“I must be in hell,” he murmured, rolling his shoulders trying to ease the tension that settled on him. He was still hard. Fiercely. Unforgiving. Tight and breathtaking. His skin fairly itched with the need to shift, to run away. For a Level 4 Senser that was simply not an option, especially when he couldn’t outrun the biggest hard-on he ever had in his life.
“How can you be in hell with so much skin in your face?” he heard his second ask with an arched brow. The gracefully tall Level 3 Wolf Senser could have made even a woman cringe with envy. His flesh was flawless; his eyes a crystalline blue that rivaled even the Earth’s waters in space, and a build that said he ran and lifted 23 hours out of a 24 hour day. That he was sprawled with reckless abandon while a rather ambitions low level Senser bounced on his lap bare ass holding on to his cropped midnight hair with all her might was something only he could achieve.
His cock glistened as he lifted the woman by her ass again and again on his cock. Her short, pixie blond hair bared her graceful neck line and Xavier felt the urge to bite slink through him. Her breasts bounced before his face, taunting him. Oron gripped her hips, standing her up. He turned her, dick shiny from her, and standing erect with blood. The paleness against his dark trousers seemed like an aphrodisiac in itself. As a Wolf Oron had said he’d often had sex in social gatherings. He’d told Xavier some mumbo jumbo about pack cohesion to explain it. Xavier just figured he was an exhibitionist at heart.
The woman sank back on Oron’s cock, moaning her pleasure to the club. She leaned back against Oron, fingering her nipples and twisting them. Oron gripped her by her knees, lifting them and spreading them. Xavier could see how shiny her pussy lips were, swallowing his friends cock greedily. Holding her up with his strength, Oron planted his feet and pounded up into her. She screamed, pulling her nipples harder and riding out her pleasure. Oron just pushed harder chuckling as she screeched, forcing her legs farther apart.
“Yes, yes, fuck me. Fuck me harder!” She arched her back, snaking her finger down her body to her clit. She flicked it wildly as Oron slammed into her. The sound of flesh sliding flesh pulled Xavier’s skin tight. He supposed he should look away but he forced himself to watch, to try to find some sort of release. His body was wound up so tight he couldn’t find freedom. He needed release and Oron had felt that perhaps coming to Posh, where sex was sold on a silver platter and the woman looked to fall into a man’s lap at the crook of his fingers, would help him. As yet, it had only strung him tighter and tighter until he could barely move, his cock straining the zipper of his trousers.
“Oron,” Xavier hissed, his teeth clenched hard enough to grind his molars to ash. He could smell the Wolf Senser female nearing her peak. The dancer had zeroed in on them as soon as they’d entered Posh in Diameter 12. She’d wanted Oron, it had been evident. His second, however, had simply sat back, let her climb on him, putting having sex with her in a separate compartment of his brain as he worried about his friend. The woman meant little to Xavier. But her scent, the intoxicating scent of a woman in heat, was tempting to him.
He should have seen the event as a good thing, as he had been unable to lay with any woman satisfyingly for nearly three months. Instead it simply made his prick harder to slam against a body. His Jag, infuriatingly, made it evidently clear that was not the woman it should be slamming into. He knew better then to ignore the animal that was his other half, the reason that humans hunted them all to near extinction. The damn thing could get rather temperamental.
He hissed, the thought of a Human cooling his ardor long enough to watch dispassionately while the dancer scream as her climax drew near. Heat returned as he smelled her flesh, felt her need, felt Oron’s as well. Oron pushed into her harder and harder. Pushing her towards climax and nearing his. With a final shove she screamed her crisis into the throbbing club and slumped on Oron’s lap.
“Pretty,” Oron whispered, distracting Xavier’s thoughts. With a careful, but strong, grip he lifted the woman away from him and pushed her into the waiting arms of a waiter. “Take her to her rooms to recoup,” he said then. With a shake and not even a small backwards glance to the woman who was being carried away from him he turned on his leader, tucking his cock away negligently.
“This is supposed to be helping,” Oron said then slowly. “Coming here was to find a woman for you Jag to sate itself with so we could get on with business.”
As the leader of the Sensers who had congregated on Diameter 12 in Acvaria to escape prosecution and death from the hands of the very beings they had once protected from the shadows, Xavier had little time to care for himself. His entire existence was devoted to the protection of his people and the express hatred of Humans. His kind had protected them from eons, and, when they became public, they were shunned. Now only fear, hatred, and violence remained.
Acvaria had become a world of nearly primitive existence for a time. Only areas where Sensers resided were well-developed and functioning. The humans had hated their advancement. His ancestors had begun being murdered, much like the long ago, nearly forgotten Civil Rights Movement of Earth.
In three short decades since his step into the mantel of leader he had made the Sensers a household name for top of security, infiltration, and mercenary work. He was richer then the long dead Onasis, and stronger then the pithy human president. He had many more years to live. Sensers, with a residual quirk from the Fates, often lived for several hundred years. That his cock was driving him insane and was going to kill him when his own people’s plight had not was simply ludicrous.
“I smell them,” he growled, fangs slowly extending in his salivating mouth. His tongue felt thick in his mouth. It he moved it the wrong way one of his canines would splice it in two he was sure of it.
“I can taste their essence in the air, feel their hormones against my skin. Shit, O, my dick is hard enough to evaporate the nearest woman that takes it on, but none of them, not a single fucking one are impressing him.”
He didn’t have to elaborate on who he was. As a Wolf Senser, capable of shifting into the ethereal form of a massive wolf, or a hybrid of both man and animal, Oron understood the demands of the other half. It had been a standing joke between them that Xavier was Feline Oron’s wolf was following the pussy. Shifted they still had to keep iron control of their other halves so that they wouldn’t instinctually fight. Natural enemies and yet best friends.
While some Sensers could control a certain element or had other powers of coercion or another, shifters were rare. The Fates had grown tired of their vigil over the human race. They given birth to the Sensers to protect the charges that the old gods had forgotten from the threads of time and the wombs of Oracles. Depending on the strength of the Oracle mother gave the born Senser their level of strength. Many Sensers couldn’t even pass 0, let alone reach the heights of 4. Xavier was the only one they had now. His own inner circle comprised of Level 2 Toxins, Sensers who could spew biological weapons with a well pointed shot and a Level 3, Oron, who stood at Xavier’s right as beta.
When they had gone public after the end of the world had obliterated the old ways the humans had not welcomed them. They systematically hunted down the Oracle mothers, killing them, and so killing their line as well. The few Oracle mothers that remained were protected now within Xavier’s castle so that they could live normal lives. They no longer gave birth to more Sensers, now that the Sensers could have children of their own with mates, but their very lives fueled their descendants. One day they would find a way to safeguard the link, no matter how much Xavier had to spend on the research.
“This is more than simply need then,” Oron replied, shaking his head sympathetically, and dragging Xavier from his thoughts. “Your other is not going to be happy with any woman and you cock wants you to grab the nearest one. It’s mating season for you I would say. You’re shit outta luck my friend.” Xavier growled low in his throat, his hackles rising.
“Careful, puppy,” he whispered softly, his voice all the more deadly because of it. He knew he usually jade eyes were glowing gold in the darkened club. He could even feel the bristles of his coat pushing through his skin. A mate would complicate things more then what he needed. For a time he would be wrapped up in only her. She would become his priority above all others. As leader he couldn’t afford the distraction.
He felt his vision switch, knowing his pupils were nearly completely dilated. His Jag was close to the surface and he was more dangerous in this moment then anyone could imagine. His other self struggled to break free, wanting to find what Xavier now knew was his mate. He snarled low in his chest, body beginning to curl so that it could shift. He heard a quiet whimper, surprised out of his anger long enough to see his second with his face averted and exposing his vulnerable neck. The move was not lost on Xavier. For a wolf, presenting its neck was an act of submission. He struggled to fight the shift. Fought his animal soul down far enough with a promise of soon, soon we will find our mate. He sighed heavily, he must be in hell.