The desk started to move, squeaking as our hips slapped noisily. My foot pressed into the floor, hoping to add leverage. I was seconds away from coming so hard I could feel my spontaneous shifting problem imminent.
Or, I would have, but then there was a loud knock at the door.
Aster froze atop me. Her thick frame hunched as the knock sounded again. “Aster? You in there, bosslady?”
How did they not hear us, I wondered. Of course they did, those meddling, bearded busybodies. They were all out to cock block me, I’d swear it. It was a Garden Gnomes conspiracy.
As Aster slowly sat up, and I thought she might actually get up to get dressed and answer the door, I panicked and shot up. My hand clapped over her mouth, my free hand situating her so I could scoot off the desk and she could wrap her legs around me without dislodging me, and before she could blink, I had her in my arms, stumbling towards the closest wall, to press her against it. “We're not home right now, leave a message. Not a word,” I whispered, lifting my hand to take her mouth as I proceeded to pump into her, deeper and harder until her hands were sliding up my back, clutching me to her, and I felt free to ignore the nosy person at the door.
A soft noise left her as she started to fall apart, tipping over that sweet precipice. Her channel convulsed, clenching around me rhythmically. With a guttural cry, I slammed home, my new favorite place to be, and followed her over.
As my shaft began to expand, shift, those tendrils reaching out for right where they wished to bury deep and plant, her skin rippled around me.
A garbled noise left me as she too began to shift. There was a glorious moment of pure sexual euphoria, like I was floating or something, in pure bliss, her sex pulsing in reaction to the tendrils along my shaft burying deep inside her to begin undulating, and then I was coming, and coming, so hard and fast a cry that I’d like to claim was exultant and not all high pitched or girlish, left me.
Marsh on Marsh matings, or so I’d been told, were something all their own. They’d been downplaying the entire affair. It was… I was still making noises that were EXULTANT, I say, and will continue to deny were girly in any way, shape, or form, nor of the likes of which implied I was greatly pained, my flower of a female rumbling so loudly as she writhed in my arms it nearly drowned me out. Nearly.
When the rush of it was over, her head fell back, her features, like mine, still mostly human but for the vines now covering us. Our lower halves were a different story, our trunks rooted, bodies entwined. As her head fell back, gently smacking the wall at her back, I slumped against her, my cheek pressing to her chest. I had to bend to accomplish this, but it was worth it to listen to the wild pounding of her heart, thundering in time to mine, so loudly in my ear.
Soft little noises continued to escape her, grunts from me following, as our bodies continued on without us. We were slaves to the pleasure, willingly, happily. A groan left me as my nose nuzzled her collarbone. Her scent was so strong there, mingling with mine, pleasure blossomed in my chest.
I felt it, her hands around my back shifting, until vines were wrapping around me, curling me to her tighter. Marsh were most vulnerable after a heavy mating session, or when in Human form. I stiffened when I heard the sound of shuffling just outside her office door. Instinctively, I shifted, wrapping myself around her. It was something a male did for their female. I’d rather have died than see harm come to her. While this left me open and vulnerable, the shell I formed around her would keep her safe.
“Is he still alive?” Someone whispered.
The door slowly creaked open. I couldn’t see anything like this, my body fused to hers, our faces frozen as they’d been moments ago, in sated rapture. Strange noises erupted from the crack in the door, deep-voiced, excited chittering. My vines shot out from my trunk, curling around the door to slam it shut. More excited noises issued from just beyond the metal door serving as a barrier. Some of the tension riding me eased as a vine flicked the lock into place.
MINE, I thought wildly, the fierceness roaring through me to protect my flower sending my leaves trembling. When her body began to tremble, and waves of pleasure washed over me, I realized they were coming from her. My heart swelled until it hurt. MINE, I thought again.
Chapter 12
Aster
My face kept flushing whenever my eyes found him. He couldn’t see in the dark, I was strangely happy to note, hiding my burning cheeks from him as he kept brushing me, finding excuses to touch me as our bodies eventually slid back into their respective persons and we once more looked Human.
“Aster?” Gren’s eyes were glowing in the dark.
Straightening as I finished tugging down the spare shirt from my duffel I’d grabbed from the office closet, Audrey the man-eating plant demanding Seymour feed her across the front, I glanced up to find my mate so close his breath coasted over my shoulder.
My skin prickled and my breath caught.
“I- Yes.” I was suddenly flustered, nervous anew. I had no clue if I’d ever get over that, the initial nerves.
“I can’t wait for our date.” He smiled then, the quirking of his lips cute in his handsome face.
“Lunch,” I blurted, as my nerves won. My hands shook. I was flustered and stammering as he focused all of his attention on me.
He blinked but his smile remained, brows furrowing slightly. “Dinner,” he said suddenly. His gaze never left me as he slid the pair of spare track pants I’d lent him higher on his lean waist.
“It’s a lunch,” I croaked out, my throat suddenly gone dry.
“A dinner date, after work,” he murmured. His voice was growing husky. My butt was weak where he was concerned, I was ashamed to admit, even after all that had happened. Our mate connection was undeniable. It was too late before I realized he’d backed me into a corner. “Just you and me,” he whispered, his arms coming up on either side of me to box me in.
“Lunch, I think you mean,” I gently argued. My hands went to his chest, fisting in the shirt he’d also borrowed from me. One of his hands slid over my clenched fist, his thumb smoothing along my aching knuckles, and he leaned in and brushed his nose along mine.
“A date,” he corrected with a rumble in his chest, then pressed his lips to mine.
Just when I’d started to melt, our tongues tentatively touching, dancing as I opened to him, he pulled back. His white teeth flashed in the dark at the whimper that escaped me. “I can’t wait,” he called cheerfully, pressing a quick kiss to my nose to release me and dance backward, “for our date!” The door swung open, sending me squinting like I was half vampire in the shock of light, and he stepped out of the safety of my office. “I’m hoping to be able to spend time with you before then, if you’ll quit hiding from me and let me get to know you, but if until then,” the goofy man blew me a noisy kiss, a silly grin on his face, then closed the door behind him. The man began singing some silly song as I watched his shadow pass by the window.
