Chapter Seven
Cyclone
Stewart would never know how they managed to make it back to his apartment. All he remembered from the time he kissed Frieda to when he slammed the door shut behind their bodies was the taste of her lips. The smell of her skin. The way her body pressed against him. The pressure inside his pants that was simply too much to resist.
Briefly, it crossed his mind that he probably ought to tidy a little bit, but that thought went flying when Frieda pushed him down on the couch and kicked the coffee table out of their way. Her hands flew over his leather, undoing each of the buttons before she pushed it off his shoulders. His own hands roamed her body. He wanted to feel every inch of her and was too impatient to wait for her to undress before he started.
“Oh, God!” Frieda let her head fall back when he started kissing her neck while pushing his hands under her shirt. “Fuck! Why did I take so long to start this?”
“You start?” Stewart chuckled into her skin as his tongue flicked over her pulse. “Are you kidding me? You want to take credit for my moves now? What are you, some sort of glory hog?”
Frieda tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up to his armpits. Callouses snagged against his skin as she explored his torso, pulling away from his lips on her neck only long enough so she could bend down and begin to kiss and lick his chest.
“Good God,” Stewart moaned, this time letting his head fall back. One of her hands pushed between his legs and massaged gently while the other started to work on his belt. “You’ve got a wicked tongue.”
Frieda chuckled. Stewart let his eyes slide shut. He was actually throbbing under her touch, desperate to get free and find his way into her. One of his hands slid into her hair. He didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to stay still. He wanted to turn her over and claim her every way that was possible. His impatience burned in his gut, but he forced himself to let her do as she wished.
When she stopped, he groaned with dismay.
“Before we go any further,” she said, looking up at him, “I need to know. You want this?”
“God, Frieda!” Stewart shook his head in frustration. “How can you even ask that? You’ve got the evidence that I want you right there in your hands!”
She giggled, but her expression soon grew sober. “You know what I mean, Stewart. This isn’t just a lust thing, right? It’s not two buddies deciding that fucking is a good pastime when they’re bored… right? It’s not going to replace us watching old movies together, or going to the beach or—”
“No.” His voice was gravelly as he met her gaze. “That will never change. You are more than a fuck buddy, Frieda. And I’m a little insulted you would think so little of me.”
“Well, when you put it that way… I guess I owe you an apology.” Her hand moved again, slowly, over his clothed cock.
Stewart had a reply to that on the tip of his tongue, but it died away into a strangled moan as she undid his jeans and pulled them down to his knees. He was already hardened from her touch, and he stiffened even more when she bent over. Her lips grazed his head and her tongue flicked out, moving down his shaft. His one hand still clung to her hair, but he released her and fisted his hands at his sides. He didn’t want to jerk and hurt her.
One of her hands moved up and down his inner thigh while the other continued to explore his torso, coasting over the contours of his muscles. He allowed his eyes to close, his hips jerking up rhythmically. When Frieda took him into her mouth, her tongue circling as she did so, both of her hands came to his hips and pressed him down firmly.
“Fuck!” Stewart gasped as she sucked, lightly at first but with increasing pressure. The pressure was almost too much to bear. He screwed his eyes tightly as she moved her head up and down, making greedy little slurping noises. His abdomen twitched with his building pleasure and soon he was breathing through clenched teeth.
Frieda showed no signs of letting up on him. She continued to suck his cock, easing him a little deeper every time her head went down. Part of Stewart never wanted this to end, to be inside of her mouth, to feel the gentle scrape of her teeth over his sensitive flesh. But another, larger part of him knew that he wasn’t going to last much longer… and he wanted something far better with her.
“Fuck,” he grunted again.
Frieda pulled back, her hands moving to stroke him inside of her mouth. She grinned up at him. “That’s what I’m planning on doing.”
She moved to take him into her mouth again, but this time he shook his head and stopped her. Even though the pressure was enough to make him explode, there was something he wanted—needed—first. He pulled Frieda to her feet, then stripped off the rest of his clothing. His eyes darkened as he started on her. First to go was the tank top. She wore no bra beneath, and so he immediately went to her breasts, sucking on one nipple then the other. They hardened, pointing up towards the ceiling and his waiting mouth.
Next to go were her pants. The sweet scent of her arousal filled the air as he tossed them aside, then knelt so he could remove her underwear an inch at a time. It was her turn to clench her hands into fists. Her head fell back as he pushed a hand between her thighs. She clenched them on his fingers, but he still found her slick center. He grinned at her wetness, then glanced up at her and cocked a brow.
“Mind sitting down for me?”
Frieda let out a moan and collapsed to the couch. She spread her legs wide, lifting her knees over his shoulders. Stewart kissed her inner thigh, enjoying the way she shuddered. He slowly made his way up. She spread wider, opening up like a flower to him. His tongue flicked over her entrance. She was as sweet as he always imagined her tasting. The soft whimper that came from her throat was just as he imagined as well. A grin curled his lips as he slowly made his way to her clit.
It was already hard, and when he laved his tongue over it, Frieda’s whole body gave a jerk. She lifted her hips, mashing herself into his face. It was so unexpected that Stewart pulled back with a grunt. He glanced up at her face and found it beet-red. She opened her mouth, but before she could apologize, he dove into her again. He kept his gaze on her face as he worked her clit. Her chest heaved, her eyes widened, and her jaw went slack.
“Fuuuuuck,” she groaned, and Stewart grinned into her. He could feel his wolf in his chest, growling with pleasure. A sense of triumph and connection went through him. He’d imagined this for so long, he hadn’t realized he feared what might occur if she didn’t enjoy it.
But she was enjoying it. Her legs were starting to tremble, her knees jerking back and forth. Her back arched and she clawed at her own hair, panting and crying out in turns.
And that wasn’t enough. With a slight snarl in the base of his throat, Stewart pulled back. He plunged two fingers inside of her, happy to find her soaking and ready. He moved her hips so she lay across the couch, then took up a position kneeling over her. Giving himself a couple strokes to get himself hardened again, he pressed against her entrance.
Frieda’s hands moved up his arms. She sighed, and he looked up into her eyes as he pushed in. The pleasure he saw there echoed his own. Her back arched, her hips lifted, and her eyes fluttered shut. Stewart clenched his jaw against his arousal. She was so warm and welcoming. They fit together perfectly, like pieces of a puzzle.
“I’m not going to last long,” he warned. “It’s been a while since I…”
“Same.” A shiver ran down her back, and he loved the pink flush in her chest as he started to move. “Oh, Stewart! I had no idea you were this big.”
Stewart chuckled as he gently fucked her, then moved down so he could capture her mouth with his as he continued. “You’ve seen me naked before.”
“Mmmm, but I never looked. On purpose at least.”
He chuckled as he picked up speed. Freida’s eyes flew open and she let out a strangled cry. The pressure inside of him was blinding now, pleasure coursing through him so powerfully that he could hardly keep himself in a steady rhythm. Her fingers scratched down his back and he kissed her again. Their mingled tastes drove him crazy. He could feel her clenching and releasing around him. With a wild roar, he jackhammered into her, the whole couch shaking with the force of his thrusts. She lifted her hips, matching him, her fingers now digging into his arms.
They flew apart on the same note, her clenching down on him as waves of darkness washed over his vision. He collapsed over her, his thrusts jerky and hard as she cried out, gasped and kissed him. Slowly they both became still and held one another. Stewart buried his face in her shoulder, breathing in the scent of sweat clinging to her skin. He finally registered the pain from her nails digging into him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
Eventually, Freida let out the softest of sighs and stroked her hands down his back. “We can change positions so you don’t have to hold your weight up like that. I can feel you trembling.”
“Not because I’m too weak to hold my own weight.”
“Never said you were weak.”
Stewart pulled back anyway. They shifted their position on the couch, and he eased gently out of her. They lay face-to-face, she pressed against the worn backing and he on the edge. Her eyes sparkled and glowed as she stroked his face. Stewart’s heart swelled, filling with so much warmth that he thought he might burst apart. How was it that after so many years, they had finally jumped across the breach? He knew without a doubt this was one thing he would never regret. He opened his mouth to say so—
The door opened.
Stewart twisted as Frieda gasped. He let out a bark of warning and saw Roxy, Andy, and Daniel for a brief moment before Roxy slammed the door shut. Peels of laughter burst from the other side. Stewart and Frieda stared at each other in horror.
“You’d better get dressed,” Guinevere’s lilting, languid tones came through the door.
“You should knock!” Stewart spat back. He rolled off the couch, casting an apologetic look at Frieda as he reached for his pants. She covered her face, shoving her fist in her mouth to muffle her giggles.
Stewart grabbed her clothes and threw them at her. Shifters might not think much about nudity, since it was something that was going to happen from time to time, but having his family walk in on him having sex? Ugh! Well, at least we had finished the sex.
Frieda continued to giggle madly as she threw on her clothes. Stewart dressed quickly and dragged his fingers through his hair as he strode for the door. By the time he reached it, his face was no longer flaming red, and instead, a scowl stretched across his lips. What were they doing, just walking into his house like that?
“I told you we should have called,” he heard Guinevere say just before he yanked open the door.
“You should have,” Stewart agreed. He held the door open for them to come in. Frieda had gotten her giggling under control by now and nodded to each one of them as they entered.
To his surprise, Andy looked furious. He poked a finger into Stewart’s chest. “The hell do you think you’re doing? Both of you! You shouldn’t be doing that.”
“Chill out, Twister.” Frieda rolled her eyes. “As though you never fucked with any of the crew before.”
“That’s different—”
Stewart stepped in front of his brother. “We’re both adults and we make our own choices. You don’t get to say what we should and shouldn’t be doing. What are you doing here, anyway? This is my place now, you don’t get to just walk in without even knocking!”
“It’s my fault, Uncle Stewart,” Daniel said. His hands were shoved into his jeans and he shrugged, looking a little red around the ears. He looked up at the ceiling, as though too embarrassed to look at Stewart directly. “You said I could come over any time, so I thought it’d be fine if we all just came over… Mom said we should have called.”
Stewart let out a breath, trying to calm himself. If it was any other situation, he wouldn’t have been angry at them for just walking in. Honestly, this was as much his fault for not locking the door. People in his family rarely knocked or told each other ahead of time when they were coming over. It just wasn’t something they did. He dropped to the couch beside Frieda while the others found spots to sit. Andy still looked furious, but when Guinevere gave him a stern look, he shrugged and sat as well.
“So, what brings all of you here, anyway?”
Guinevere and Andy exchanged another look. The rest of the anger faded off of Andy’s face and he sighed. “Daniel.”
Stewart twisted to look at his nephew. Just as he opened his mouth, though, Roxy started talking. Daniel shut his mouth, annoyance flashing over his face.
“We’re all dead certain that the reason Daniel has not been able to fully tap into his shifter side is because he’s surrounded by vampires all the time. So, he’s decided that he wants to live around shifters more. Since you’re family and you’ve already got various security systems in place,” she nodded at the door; this whole floor of the apartment building had various shifters associated with the Savage Brotherhood living on it, “we decided it was the best place for him. And we think it’s going to be good for his personal growth, too, not to have to be the prince all the time. Being able to be a little more anonymous.”
Stewart turned to Daniel. “Is that what you want?”
“Yeah. Well, I thought it might be better if I had my own place but—”
“But that is far too dangerous,” Guinevere interrupted. She put a worrying hand on her son’s shoulder. Pain flashed in her gaze even as she tried to hide it. “But he’ll be safe here.”
Stewart met Daniel’s gaze. He saw the frustration there and nodded slightly to show that he understood. Daniel was a grown man, both physically and mentally. It was only natural that his parents would fret a little, but this? It was coddling him. He understood where they were coming from.
On the other hand, it was a good idea for Daniel to come live here. It’d let him have some independence. “Yeah, that’d be fine. I’ll get a key made for you.”
Daniel dipped his head toward him. “Thank you.”
“Yes,” Andy said, a little suspicion slipping back into his voice. “Thanks. But there is something else that we—”
“No, we don’t have to talk about it,” Frieda said flatly. “Stew, I gotta hit the road. See you later.”
Stewart nodded at her. They shared a quick kiss, and then Frieda left. He sighed as he looked back to his family. This was going to take some explaining.