Chapter Fourteen – Loss Of Control

It was torture of the most exquisite kind; Skye had never experienced anything like it. She was hardly an innocent, had shared her bed with a fair few men, though none since Miles, and it was over a year ago now since that last disastrous hookup. She'd thought Miles, a few years older than her and experienced, was a good lover, but he had absolutely nothing on Brock.

Brock was just. So. Patient. There was nothing hasty about his lovemaking, even though she'd felt how aroused he was when they kissed on the porch. He was unhurried, though certainly not casual, exploring every inch of her torso with his fingers and mouth, rasping his rough wet-velvet tongue over every sensitive spot multiple times until she was writhing and moaning, begging frantically for more.

She could only reach his head or his thickly muscled shoulders; sinking her nails in made him growl in his throat and bite down lightly on some tender spot until she stopped, but he made sounds almost like purring when she ran her fingers into his thick, slightly wavy black hair and scratched lightly at his scalp.

Knowing now what he was, Skye couldn't help but realise how catlike Brock was in everything he did, from the smoothly economic grace of his movements, not a single wasted motion, to the fuck-you-I-do-what-I-want independent attitude. And the big cats were ambush predators, patiently waiting for their moment to strike, even as he was patiently working her up to a state of utter mindlessness before finally lifting his weight off her and unfastening her jeans.

"Beautiful," Brock murmured, kissing and licking his way down Skye's flat stomach as he lifted her hips to ease her jeans over them. "So very beautiful." She shuddered, made a high-pitched keening sound as he swirled his tongue in her navel. He licked his lips as he moved lower, already anticipating tasting the sweet cream he could scent welling with Skye's arousal. And then his lips brushed over a patch of roughened skin.

"Hmm." His fingers followed. There was little light, but his adapted eyes didn't need much. He lifted his head and looked, stilling as sudden rage welled in him. "Who did this to you?"

His voice was a harsh snarl as his fingers brushed very lightly over the scars from the two gunshot wounds on her stomach.

"I promise I'll tell you," Skye almost panted, "after you fuck me."

Brock growled, lips tracing over the sensitive skin. "Whoever did this is a dead man."

Not yet, she thought, but said nothing as he kissed lower. His strong hands lifted her hips, eased her jeans down and off completely, and then he pressed a kiss to her mons, over her panties. Skye shivered.

"So wet," his voice was low and dark, and then his tongue rasped lightly over the soaked fabric between her thighs. "Is this all for me, angel?"

"Yes," she said breathily as his fingers hooked at her hips, drawing her panties down agonisingly slowly. She grabbed at one of his hands, pulled it between her legs, ground against it. "Soaking for you. Gonna be so slick and hot when you slide into me, Brock…"

He laughed against her thigh, pulling her panties off completely. "Bad girl."

"Oh come on, you're driving me insane," she whined. "This isn't foreplay, it's torture!"

"Want to come, do you, angel?" He pulled his hand free of hers, pressed her hand down to her side before tracing his fingertip in a slow maddening circle around her clit.

"Gonna take care of business myself in a minute if you won't!"

"Shackles," was all he said, and she froze again with a little squeak of shock. "I will, you know. But not tonight. I don't think you trust me enough yet."

His fingertip was just brushing over her clit now, flicking teasingly. Skye was trembling in every limb, feeling the climax edging tantalisingly closer.

"Please," she whimpered, "oh Brock, please…"

"I got you, angel," he murmured, and then his tongue curled around her sensitive, aching clit.

She came so fast and so hard she lost control, for a brief instant, of her power. Fortunately it was only the bed that shook, and Brock being basically on top of her was able to hang onto her legs and keep from being thrown to the ground. As the tremor subsided he grinned against her and slid two thick fingers deep inside, crooking them to tease over the sensitive bundle of nerves, prolonging the climax until Skye was gasping for air, black spots swimming behind her closed eyelids.

"Stop, please, please, too much!" she cried out.

"Not enough," was all he replied before his rough tongue swiped.

"I can't, I c-c…"

"Yes, you can," he murmured between licks, and apparently she could no matter what her brain thought, because another wave hit, arching her body up off the bed into his hold.

He was crazy with wanting her, grinding his crotch against the mattress in a futile effort to put pressure on his arousal, slow down the building climax. Skye was so beautiful as she thrashed and sobbed beneath him, her cries music to his ears. He lapped thirstily at her juices, drinking her in, savouring every drop. The primal part of him was close to the surface now, though, insisting that it was time, that he needed to take Skye, claim her as his, put his mark upon her. And when she moaned his name in a high, breathy tone quite unlike her usual voice, he could no longer fight the need.

Skye was near-insensible, unaware that he left her for a few moments to go to the bathroom, digging hastily in the cupboard below the sink to find a long-abandoned box of condoms. But then he was back, gathering her in his arms, his lips warm against her throat.

"Brock," she groaned, her hands fluttering to his shoulders.

"I need you, Skye," his voice was ragged, a rough snarl. She forced her eyes open to see him staring down at her intently, his eyes gleaming golden.

"Yes." She tried to put her legs around him, but they were still shaking. He smiled and pressed a kiss to her lips, slid a big hand under her knee and lifted, opening her up for his possession.

Dripping with lust, she was still small, and tight as he eased his swollen cock slowly, gently into her.

"That's it, angel," he whispered against her cheek as her nails sank into his shoulders and she sucked in a deep breath. "Don't fight me." He could feel her tensing against the pressure of his invasion. "Let me in. You feel so good, so tight and wet, I'm not gonna last long for you…"

"Unnhhh, Brock, you're kidding," she mumbled as he eased deeper. "I can't take much more!"

"Much more of me, or much more pleasure?" he chuckled slightly. "I'm pretty sure you can take all of me, angel, I'm not that big."

"Big enough," Skye groaned in response. He certainly was, in proportion to his powerful frame, long and thick enough that he had to go slowly, and she was grateful that he'd taken the time to prepare her thoroughly. More than thoroughly. She let out another strangled groan as his hips rocked against her, sliding back and forth, each time going a little deeper until she felt his pelvis press against hers.

"Ah, Skye," Brock had to stop once he was sheathed to the hilt, take a couple of deep breaths. "So tight," he muttered against her throat.

"It's just been a while," she gasped back. And then, since he didn't seem inclined to move and her body was screaming for him to do just that, she concentrated hard and deliberately clenched her vaginal muscles around him.

"Shit, Skye, argh!" His whole body quivered suddenly. "Don't – uh, don't do that…"

"Yes, that!" She ran the fingers of one hand into his hair at the back of his neck, deliberately scratched lightly at his scalp, dragged the nails of the other hand down his spine. "Now."

He'd been in total control right up until that moment, Brock realised dizzily, and then with a few tiny movements she'd stolen it all. Taken everything from him but the frantic need to finish this, to bury himself deep inside her and blow his load. He couldn't help but start pumping, trying somehow to hold on long enough to make sure Skye enjoyed herself too, even though his balls were tightening and he could feel the imminent explosion building.

"Fuck, yeah," he snarled as she dug her nails into his hip, urging him on. He moved faster, pumping, leaning back and putting a hand to her breasts, squeezing a swollen nipple in time with his thrusts. Skye arched into his touch, her head falling back and exposing the long line of her pale throat, and the animal part of Brock suddenly knew what he had to do. What he wanted more than anything right then.

He was moving harder and faster, fucking her into the mattress, and suddenly both his hands were under her hips, bracing her so that he could slam to his full depth with each thrust. Bending over her, he licked at the sensitive flesh just below her ear. The roughness of his tongue just there, the brush of her nipples over his chest as he moved, the way his groin rubbed over her clit with every thrust, combined with the building pressure inside her, was a perfect storm of sensation for Skye. Her mouth opened in a soundless scream, body bucking hard as she came again.

A snarl burst from Brock's chest as he felt the inevitable, sucking grasp of Skye's climax, felt her small body lock around him. He bit down on her neck as his back arched, come exploding from his balls up his rigid length, flooding into the condom.

And then something else happened. Something that never had when he took himself in hand, as he'd done far too often thinking of Skye in the last few days. A curious prickling sensation around the head of his penis, a little painful but pleasurable enough to make his eyes roll back in his head at the same time, and he kept on coming; he could feel the continuing little spurts surging up his still rock-hard cock.

Skye let out a choked sort of squeal and shuddered; he tried to pull back a little and she cried out with what was clearly pain and clutched at him.

"Ah, no!"

"Skye," he groaned, resting his weight on his elbows. "Ai, ah, something's happening…"

"Don't move."

"Mm, 'kay…" It felt good, too good to want to move anyway. And Skye was enjoying it too, now he'd stopped trying to pull back, he could feel her muscles still clenching intermittently around his length, sucking still more come from his body until he felt drained utterly dry.

It was, he thought, about ten minutes before he felt himself begin to soften, the prickling sensation around the tip of his cock easing. Skye was still letting out occasional little sounds of pleasure as he kissed her, figuring that if they were stuck for a little while he might as well pass the time pleasurably – or even more pleasurably, anyway.

Finally he eased back and felt himself slip free of Skye. She sighed and stretched languorously, eyes opening wide with startlement as he swore.

"Fuck, shit, bollocks!"

"What?"

"Skye – I'm so sorry…" the condom was nearly shredded around the tip of his cock, ripped in multiple places.

"What the actual fuck?" Skye couldn't help but mutter incredulously as Brock swore again, getting off the bed and going into the bathroom to dispose of the useless scrap of rubber.

"Are you on birth control?" he asked, coming back in and looking down at her.

"Well I was, but you didn't exactly give me time to grab my packet of pills when you kidnapped me!" she snapped defensively, gathering a blanket around her.

He winced, rocked his head back on his shoulders. "Fuck."

"Yeah, well, we did that and apparently your eyes and your tongue aren't the only catlike things about you when you're in human form!"

He looked utterly puzzled. Skye sighed. "You didn't read up on feline mating habits, then?"

Brock's eyes widened. "I wasn't planning on going out and finding a female tiger to mate with, so no!"

Skye couldn't help but giggle at the look on his face. She patted the bed beside her and watched as he sat. "Barbs," she said succinctly, and giggled harder when he shook his head in confusion. "Male cats have small barbs on their penises. I think they're cartilage? Anyway. It helps them to lock inside the female so she can't escape during sex, and also to, um," how she could still blush around him considering the ridiculously amazing, incredibly intimate sex they'd just had, she couldn't imagine, but… "stimulate the female's pleasure. Apparently yours are sharp enough to render condoms completely useless."

Brock groaned and collapsed face-first into the pillow, swearing long and low in several different languages. Skye couldn't help but be impressed by the length of time he managed to go on for without, so far as she could tell, repeating himself.

"I take it you didn't know," she said when he finally fell silent.

"Fuck, no!" he turned his head to look at her. "It – well, I haven't felt them when I jack off. And I haven't been with another woman since I changed. I swear I had no fucking idea that was going to happen, Skye. Did it hurt you?"

"No," she shook her head. "Felt good, except that one moment when you tried to pull out." She decided not to mention the other function she remembered from the one time she'd read up on big cat biology. That the barbs were thought to help stimulate female ovulation. She shied away from the thought that he might very well have just gotten her pregnant. He'd tried to protect her, after all, it wasn't his fault that something he had no way to know about his own biology had just defeated his precautions.

She felt uncomfortably sticky between her legs, and after a moment got out of bed and went to the bathroom to clean up. Returning, she found Brock sitting in bed looking at her uncertainly.

"Do you want me to go?"

Skye shook her head instantly. "No!"

He smiled and held out his arms: she curled into them, a little self-conscious about her nudity until he pulled a blanket over them both. They lay quietly together for long minutes, relaxing, Skye's head on his chest, until she sighed and asked the question that had to be asked.

"What are you going to do with me?"

Hmmm… that's a really good question now, isn't it?

Well, you'll have to wait until tomorrow to find out what Brock's answer might be!

Hope you enjoyed that and it was everything you hoped for after waiting patiently this long for the smut… please let me know in the comments below!