Copyright © Nicole Austin, 2014
Chapter One
Almost there. Just a little bit more.
Every muscle in Sirena Petra’s body stretched taut and she panted to draw much-needed oxygen into her burning lungs. Perspiration glistened on her skin as she writhed against black silk sheets, desperate to crest the plateau. Her need to orgasm had surpassed the crisis point and become painful agony.
Fumbling with the buttons beneath her fingertips, she shifted the silver vibrating marvel into overdrive. The device buzzed louder and metal beads in the shaft sprung to life, rotating against her sweet spot as devilish projections tormented her pulsing clitoris.
With her other hand, Sirena palmed a heavy breast and pinched her taut nipple. Fiery jolts of sensation arced between the two pleasure centers. Her body clenched, going statue-still for several heartbeats as she teetered on the edge of the precipice…
And once again fell flat without finding satisfaction.
She reached between trembling thighs, the still-humming toy creating a wet slurping sound as she pulled it from the tight clasp of her pussy. When she dropped it onto the bed, the plastic toy gave a halfhearted, weak jiggle and shiny silver balls slowed then ceased spinning as the motor wheezed, coughed and gave one final death rattle before falling silent.
All she wanted for Christmas was an orgasm or two. She didn’t think that was asking too much.
Cursing a blue streak, Sirena grabbed her cell phone from the nightstand and texted “911” to Kenyon Fort. Less than a minute later music from her favorite indie rock band filled the room. She slid her thumb over the touch screen and shivered as Kenyon’s rich smoke-and-whiskey voice glided across her sensitized body in a velvety caress.
“What did you break this time?”
“The expensive as hell Platinum Powerhouse,” she huffed. Oh, she hadn’t paid full price. Never did. She had a great deal worked out with Kenyon. He sold her toys at cost and she designed and maintained his website at a majorly discounted rate. Theirs was the perfect partnership.
Kenyon sighed his frustration. “Well, now you’re really screwed, Kitten.”
Her heart fluttered hearing his pet name for her but her gaze narrowed on the vibrator, brow furrowing with her irritation. “How so?”
“The Platinum Powerhouse was the big guns, Sirena. The last resort. You’ve tried all the strongest vibrators available. Hell, I made that one specifically for you.”
“So that means…” Her words trailed off and she swallowed hard.
“You’re shit out of luck,” Kenyon finished for her. “There is no vibrator that can survive the abuse you dish out.”
He muttered something under his breath she didn’t try to make out, all her thoughts wrapped up in her current dilemma. Major downside to the strength inherent in being a shape-shifting lioness—the strong contractions of her pelvic muscles. She’d strangled all her vibrators to an untimely death and had yet to find a living, breathing man who could get her where she needed to go during sex.
“But Ken—” She cringed at the plaintive tone of her voice. “What the hell am I going to do?” If only her kind weren’t so rare then she’d have a chance of finding a mate.
Sirena shook her head. She didn’t really want a mate. Male cats were either loners who never stayed in one place for long or polygamists who had a pride of women they fucked. They certainly weren’t committed to any one female. Her footloose and fancy free father stood as the perfect example, constantly shuffling around between eight lionesses who shared him. Sirena wanted children but had no desire to be a sister wife or a single parent trying to raise a shifter cub in a predominantly human society without the support of his or her father. No thanks!
“Have you considered trying a real cock? Because, damn, Sirena, I’ve got to be honest here. That powerful pussy of yours has become the star of my favorite fantasies.”
“Gee, Kenyon, now why didn’t I think of that?” Sirena sighed heavily. “Every real cock I’ve tried hasn’t lasted long enough. Size and shape don’t matter—neither do skill of the user. Even the porn star with the supposed legendary stamina wasn’t able to go the distance.”
Kenyon’s breathing quickened and he groaned. If Sirena wasn’t in such a state of abject misery she would have laughed instead of getting irritated by his rather typical male reaction.
“Kenyon?”
“Yeah?” His voice had deepened, taken on a sexy rasp.
“You better not be whacking off or I’m going to hunt you down, string you up by your balls and spend hours torturing you.”
“Damn it, Sirena, would you stop trying to turn me on.”
His unexpected comment brought her up short. What kind of man got hot and bothered by a threat? “Don’t give up your day job to become a comedian because you’re really not very funny.”
“That wasn’t a joke but whatever, I have an idea. I’ll need a couple of hours. You weren’t planning on going out, were you?”
“In my current mood… Hell no. I’d probably rip some poor slob’s throat out for daring to glance my way. But, um—”
“Okay, good. Hang tight.”
Hang tight?