“I’m sorry, when you’re stark naked and rock hard, everything you say sounds like a double entendre. Please. Proceed.” Cliff took a deep breath. He curled his hands into fists, and she saw his biceps flex and swell. He closed his caramel-colored eyes, and a ripple of concentration appeared between his brows. She realized he was focusing hard to draw out his shift so she could see every change – see how he flowed from one state to the other.
He parted his lips and she saw that his canine teeth had lengthened into fangs. His fingernails narrowed and lengthened into claws and his fingers curved, drawing back. She quickly looked back to his face and saw that his mouth and nose were pushing out into a muzzle, his ears swiveling and drawing into points.
She imagined her own ears doing the same, and felt the faint twitch of unfamiliar muscles in her scalp. She imagined the almost invisible, silky-fine peach fuzz at her hairline prickling over her face, the feeling staticky and ticklish, as she watched silver-grey fur wash over Cliff’s wolfish features.
He dropped to all fours and gave a sharp yip, then grinned a doggy grin at her, pink tongue lolling from his mouth as he panted.
She stepped cautiously towards him, some part of her screaming that she was walking up to a wild animal, even though she knew it was Cliff. She buried her fingers in the heavy, shaggy fur of his mane, enjoying its raw silk texture.
When she released him, he shook himself like a wet dog. Then, with the same painstaking slowness, he began to change back into human form. His ribcage expanded and his thighbones lengthened, spine uncurling as he stood, flexing his fingers and rolling his shoulders. There was a quiet pop as he cracked his neck to the side, as if working out the stiffness.
He settled down on the couch, stark naked and dangerously close.
She forced herself to look him in the eye and ignore his enormous erection.
“So you can shift any time you want, and control the speed?”
“I can control the speed. Most people can’t. And we don’t have full control over our shifts until we’re adults. Children don’t start turning until they’re around kindergarten age, and they have very little control over it. For most shifters, it’s much easier to shift if someone is attacking us or we sense we’re in danger. But the week before the full moon, our animal nature starts to come out. We crave red meat, and we become more aggressive, and hairier. The evening of the full moon, we all turn, and it’s different from when we voluntarily shift during the rest of the month. We abandon ourselves to our animal nature on the full moon. We run through the woods and hunt and howl. No human would be safe near us then.”
She shivered. “That’s a little scary. Losing all control like that.”
He reached out and took her hand in his. “No harm can come to you. The reason we have these enormous grounds is to ensure there’s no chance we’ll encounter humans when we turn, and that’s the only possible risk to us. We also have some extremely well-paid human guards on patrol outside the property. When you turn, I’ll be with you the whole time. We’re going to do these meditation exercises every day until it’s time for your turn. The turn won’t come as a physical or emotional shock to you.”
She did her best to believe him, and not to feel frightened. Being scared wouldn’t help.
“How do you keep your existence hidden from the world, if you turn every full moon?” she asked.
“Well, most of us lead pretty private lives, and we live on pack property. Now, people like Shelley, who live off pack property for various reasons, come back here during the full moon. But we make sure that Shelley is away from the company frequently, not just during the full moon, so it won’t be obvious that she vanishes at the same time every month. The same thing with me and Grant. We travel a lot around the world; sometimes we’re publicly visible and available, sometimes we aren’t.”
He was still holding her hand, and she felt the air in the room growing warmer. She squirmed a little in her seat.
“Stop tempting me. We’re training.” He tried to sound stern and failed.
“You’re the one sitting there stark naked and handsome as a Greek god! A statue would be tempted.”
He slid a finger under her chin. “Do you know what happens to students who don’t pay attention to their lessons?”
Her breath caught in her throat. “No, but I hope I’m about to find out.”
“Their teachers have to punish them. I see a spanking in your very near future.”
“But what are you going to do to punish me?” she taunted him, and scooted away on the couch. “You’re an Alpha. You like the chase. If you’re going to punish me, you’re going to have to catch me first.”
She leaped to her feet and ran for the door.
She was halfway down the corridor before she heard Cliff’s naked soles on the tiles as he came after her, but the head start did her no good. He seized her around the waist and, as she kicked and shrieked with laughter, slung her over his shoulder as though she weighed nothing. Then he loped easily back towards the sitting room. He took a seat on the couch and wrestled Taylor over his lap. She struggled – but not too hard. The idea of being spanked was deliciously intriguing, and her breath was coming quickly, not entirely from the play-fight.
Cliff flipped up her skirt and settled his palm on the back of her silky panties. He made an appreciative humming noise as he ran his hand over the curve of her buttock, and she squirmed in his lap, very aware of the press of his erection against her tummy. Being sprawled over his naked lap was enough to make moisture trickle from her core.
“You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?” he murmured, playing with the band of lace at the waist of her panties.
“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” she shot back.
Cliff’s fingers stilled. “Hmm,” he said. “Sassy.” And he yanked her panties down, leaving her bare bottom and her damp pussy exposed to the air.
She gasped and wriggled, but he held her in place with a firm hand on her backside.
He rubbed his hand in a circle on the tender flesh, then drew back his palm and brought it down with a resounding smack. The sharp sting on her buttock quickly turned into a spreading warmth that lit up her nerve endings and had her biting back a moan of arousal.
