Chapter 32 - Save the Switch

Flint was drifting in a sea of pain. His wrists and ankles burned so badly he was surprised he couldn’t smell his hair singeing, the flesh melting. A thin line down his torso burned and stung. He hadn’t felt this way since he’d stumbled into Five Hills a quarter-century ago, Bryce in his arms, fever raging from the wound in his neck. Every nerve in his body was on fire and he wanted to die, to sink under the pain, to be numb by any means possible.

Voices. He could hear voices. One he hated and one that called to him, to his heart, like a megaphone on blast. With an enormous effort he pulled his head up, tried to open his bleary eyes, and when he did he could swear he saw Goldie. Was she really there? Whoever it was was being a real smartass to the bloodsuckers. Flint loved it. His head sank back to the cushioned surface beneath it, a groan escaping his lips as the pain took him under.

He came to again. How long had it been? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? There was still talking, Goldie saying someone had left. Vlade? And now a different voice. Pleading. Begging. Scent as bitter as the stink of his desperation. Trying to bargain for his life as Flint’s was ebbing away. Flint fought through the fog, focused all his energy on getting the words past his lips: “Kill it.”

The voice again, whining, cajoling. Goldie snarking a reply that made him want to smile, but he couldn’t muster the focus. Emerald light behind Flint’s eyelids gave him a surge of energy, followed by a blast of red that Flint somehow knew meant they were safe. She’d done it. The threat was over.

(she is the threat.)

This voice was different from the others Flint had been tracking with his mushy mind. It came from within and was strong, clear, driving. Flint pushed his Instinct to speak again, pleaded with his bear to listen. (you are now her prey.)

Shit, the Prowl. Flint gave his head a mental shake. Goldie had killed a bloodsucker. The way she’d been feeling after their encounter in the forest, this was going to be ten times stronger than that. He had to draw her fire or everyone was at risk. But how to do it when he was chained to the bed?

He dragged his head upright - fuck, it felt like it weighed five hundred pounds - and saw Goldie rising to stand at the foot of the bed, looking down at the floor. Her switch’s glow was so bright it was almost blinding, her hair whipping around her head as she spun in a circle. Flint’s voice croaked out of him, “Goldie, come get these chains off me.”

Goldie startled and looked at him, through him, her blue eyes glazed green. “Vampire,” she hissed, as if that explained everything. She sprinted for the door.

Flint growled deep in his gut and she stopped.

He growled again. “He’s gone. I need you.”

She was at the door, turning, not listening, about to plunge through it, into the night, after vampires. He couldn’t let her leave! But he could not stop her. Frustration cleared his head. He growled again, deep, commanding. I’ll be prey, for her, and her alone. The growl that came out of him would have scared even the Father vampire, if there was one. His growl shook the bed, the floor. Even the walls trembled.

Goldie stopped as if frozen in place, and Flint spied a shiver as it chased his rumbling growl up her back to her ears. Dark satisfaction rolled through him. You like that, don’t you, Goldie?

Flint used it, let the next growl rumble so deep he knew she’d feel it through the floorboards, all the way up to that sweet spot between her legs where she’d been so wet for him the day before. Goldie’s free hand dropped from the ruined door to her side, the fingers clenching and releasing as she stood, her feet rooted to the spot. Flint knew she was desperate for an outlet to her aggression, would be lost to it soon. He wanted her lost with him. “Hold up, Goldilocks. I got something that’ll fit you just right.”

Her head turned to the side, as if she wanted to hear him better. Her lips were parted and panting, her eyelids at half-mast, her chest rising and falling quickly with the cadence of her most urgent desires. He let another rumble move through him, to her, and felt his energy surge when her aura brightened. Aw, hell yeah.

Flint kept talking, pulling energy from deep in his being to fight off the draining agony of the bloodchains. “Come on, honey. It’s just the right size, and it tastes way better than a bowl of porridge.”

Goldie turned to face him then, and Flint almost swallowed his tongue. She was wearing a yellow nightshirt that came just to the tops of her thighs, and through the thin fabric he could see her nipples were tight and begging for attention. The socks she wore were baby-blue with gold thread shot through the weave and came to just above her knee. The eight inches of flesh between the two garments was the sexiest thing Flint had ever seen in his life. He wanted to lick that skin, suck on it, maybe even nibble a little. Leave a mark to remember him by. Flint’s cock throbbed and lengthened in his sweatpants.

The deadly intense woman across the room noticed, her gaze landing on his spread thighs with a weight he could almost feel. She licked her lips and gripped her knife and Flint groaned through the pain as his cock responded, giving a little jump as if it wanted Goldie to come on over and investigate. “Damn, Pumpkin. You look like you’re going to eat me alive.”

She met his eye. “If you’re offering.” Goldie took three steps to the foot of the bed, her hands coming up to unwind the chains around his ankles. In her right hand Flint saw a familiar object.

What the hell? Flint blinked to clear his vision, unsure if the bloodchains were fucking with him, but no. Goldie was gripping his grandmother’s silver carving knife like it was her lifeline, not letting go even as she unwound his second ankle, the dead weight of his legs falling to the bed. Already he could feel the fog of the bloodchains lifting, and Flint’s curiosity got the better of him. “Goldie, whatcha doing with my Grandma’s knife?”

Goldie paused abruptly as her aura gave a surge that Flint could feel, a wave of shades from shamrock to pine needle green that filled him with strength and power, erasing even more of the pain that had dragged him low. A dreamy smile took over Goldie’s face as she gazed down at the weapon in her hand. “Is that where you got it? I love it. It’s mine. Has pumpkin vines on it.” She lifted the handle so he could see. As if he hadn’t been staring at it for the last decade and a half and wondering why.

Could it be? Was that knife Goldie’s Resonant? He was hers as sure as the earth was round. But could she possibly be his, too? He’d hoped. Prayed. Wished. Dreamed. That knife said he could know, without a doubt.

The serene expression faded from her face to be replaced by a wicked smile. “As for what I’m doing with it…” She sidled around the corner of the bed and reached for the waistband of Flint’s sweats with her unarmed hand, pulling them away from his body. The very tip of her pink tongue flicked out to slick her lips and Flint felt his stomach shudder with electric anticipation.

Goldie pressed the point of the knife against the fabric of his pants and Flint watched it come through the inside then travel up, rending the fabric like it wasn’t even there, slicing through the elastic waistband like butter. As the two sides fell away Goldie met his eyes with her baby blues and smirked. Fuuuuuuck. Flint gave fervent, silent thanks to the Great Bear. And I promise not to complain even if takes me two weeks to recover from what’s about to go down. A Prowling switch is sexy as fuck.

A satisfied smile bloomed over Goldie’s face. She spun the knife in her hands and, with an adorable little grunt that made Flint’s toes curl with desire, stabbed it into the wooden footboard between his feet. He couldn’t help but taunt her. “Come and get it.”

She turned to face Flint with a naughty gleam in her eye. “I’ve never had a shifter before. You sure I’m going to like it?”

Flint nodded his head and steadied his breath. She didn’t even have to say the word, just knowing Goldie was talking about fucking him made Flint harder than he’d been in years. His dick throbbed, grew, long enough to peek from beneath the ripped cloth of his pants. “Undo these chains and I’ll make sure you love it.” Hell, Flint didn’t mind a little pain, and he sure felt better than he had with his legs bound, but the bloodchains at his wrists were still an irritation.

Goldie looked at his arms and pouted. “But I like you all tied up. I get to be in control.” She reached under her nightshirt with both hands and wriggled her hips, her pink cotton panties rolling down her legs until she could kick them to the side. Their eyes met and Goldie licked her lips. “Right where I want you.”

Flint’s heart rate sped up. He could tell she liked it, her scent going sweet like candied basil, like rosemary-infused honey. She wanted him. Would take him. Now, in her Prowl. Flint knew he was strong enough to take it. He would never let Goldie hurt him, for her sake as much as his.

He pulled at the chains burning his wrists, making the bed creak. “Don’t keep me waiting, honey.”

A shaky breath shuddered out of Goldie as her hot gaze met his. She kept their eyes locked as she stood next to the bed and grasped each side of the ruined waistband of his sweatpants, slowly pulling them apart. His dick sprang free at once, the soft caress of cotton making it bob in anticipation. Goldie’s shuddering hot breath blew over him in a wave as she pulled the shredded garment down and off. She smiled shyly up at him, her cheeks going a deep, rosy pink. “Oh, Papa Bear, what a big stick you have.”

Shit. Fuck. That should not sound as hot as it does. Flint’s cock twitched in response to Goldie’s awed proclamation. Great Bear, what the hell is this feeling? Flint wanted to give and give and give to Goldie, whatever she needed until he couldn’t anymore. Serve her body with his until they were both spent and unable to move. Feed her, bathe her, make her scream his name in ecstacy. Claim her. Another throb of his cock, almost painful in its intensity. “The better to fill you up, Goldilocks.”

A charmed giggle erupted as Goldie whipped her nightshirt over her head, her slender, slim-hipped body on unabashed display. Her bare breasts made his mouth water, their pert pink tips looking as sweet as candy. The golden curls at the juncture of her thighs made his cock throb with the memory of how soft she’d been under his fingers the night before. She leaned over Flint’s torso with a grin, her hands going to his thighs, her breasts mesmerizing him with their sway until he realized where her mouth was headed.

He gritted his teeth against the sensations as Goldie’s agile hands wrapped around his shaft from root to ridge and squeezed firmly. She set up an undulating rhythm with her fingers, milking his cock as she guided his head closer to her waiting mouth. The pain in Flint’s wrists had dulled and his strength surged until he almost felt he could break the chains himself, but he didn’t try. He didn’t want to spoil his switch’s fun on her first Prowl.

The touch of Goldie’s lips nearly undid Flint. Her darting tongue flicked at his skin, warm and wet, and she sighed like she loved the flavor just before she wrapped her whole mouth around the head of his cock and sucked him deep. A growl started in his balls and made its way out his throat to greet her. Flint looked down at Goldie bent over his dick and wanted to tear the bed frame to pieces to get at her. He groaned as he let his head fell back to the bed again.

Goldie must have thought he was in pain. Her sympathetic but sassy voice washed over him. “Poor bear. Let’s see if I can take your mind off it.”

Flint choked out a reply, his gut clenching with the desire to be back in her mouth. “No hurry.”

But the next second he felt Goldie climbing on the bed, and he had to lift his head to watch. No way was he missing this picture. But she didn’t go straight to riding him as he’d suspected she would. With a wicked gleam in her eye, Goldie was aiming higher.

Sensual as a cat she crawled up his torso, not even stopping to kiss him as she planted her hands on the wall above his head. Flint realized what she was doing just as her scent hit him. Lush, fresh, with the same herbal notes but Bear almighty, fuck, so sweet he wanted to drink her down deep. His eyes met hers, urging her on as her knees came to rest beside his ears, her feet hooking under his bound arms. She smiled greedily down at him. “There. That help?”

Flint couldn’t answer immediately. He was caught up in her sweet scent, in the sight of her soft pink flesh just inches from his mouth. If there had ever been a moment in his life he was more grateful for than this one, he couldn’t think of it. “You’re perfect, Goldie.” And then he tasted her.

Teasingly at first, raising his head to nuzzle his nose against Goldie’s downy curls and let his hot breath caress her skin. Flicking his tongue out for the barest taste of her honey on her lips as she gasped above him. “More.”

You have no idea, Pumpkin. Wishing he had the use of his arms to hold her to him, Flint gave another teasing flick of his tongue and was rewarded with a gasp and a whine. He felt Goldie’s slender fingers caress his forehead and slip into his hair, then curve in a grip that had his follicles crying foul. Flint’s eyes opened inquiringly to see Goldie looking down at him with her jaw clenched. “Quit screwing around, bear, or I’ll go back to hunting bloodsuckers.”

With a growl that made her gasp, Flint gave her what she wanted. One strong lick and his tongue found her clit, sucking it into his mouth as Goldie squealed and wriggled above him, her mouth going wide with helpless arousal. She rode his face with abandon, one hand planted on the wall as the other pinched and rolled each of her nipples in turn.

Her pulsing power built under his tongue, her flesh spasming as she ground against his lips and shook with lust. Goldie cried out over and over, her forehead knotted as if in fear or confusion as her hips jerked and fuck, goddamn, Flint was drowning in her but he’d never been more content. Licking, sucking, teasing, pressing, finally curling his tongue against her grinding clit and listening with primal male satisfaction as Goldie went off like a firecracker, screaming in abandon, her sweet release covering him in bliss.

For a few breaths she said nothing, only sighed and panted above him, her hips twitching against him every few seconds as Flint continued to gently tend to her with soft licks and caresses, his own happy-meter off the fucking dial. He had almost climaxed when Goldie did, just from the sounds, smells, all the sensations surrounding him, but had held back with an iron will. One orgasm wasn’t going to satisfy this switch’s Prowl. Not by a long shot.

Above him Goldie seemed to come to, her blue eyes fluttering open, an expression almost like fear crossed her face as a moan escaped her mouth. “More. I need more.”

Flint used his tongue to tease her still-hard clit and heard another moan from above him. He smiled against her sweet softness. “I’ve got plenty more for you, Pumpkin. Take what you need.”

At once she was scrambling down Flint’s body, blonde hair and perky breasts bouncing as she threw one petite leg over his torso, her lower lips trapping his shaft, pressing it against his belly. She swivelled her hips and gasped and Flint knew why; the swell of her clit pressed against the underside of his cock. Throbbing against him as she slid back and forth. “Come on, Goldie. You can do better than that. Let me inside.”

His heart was hammering as he teased her, but Flint knew they weren’t out of the woods yet. If anything distracted Goldie she could be off on the hunt and he’d have no way to chase her down or alert anyone else to the danger. Plus he’d be sporting the biggest case of blue-balls this side of the Mississippi.

Goldie rocked her hips again once. Twice. Spreading her sweet honey up and down Flint’s shaft until he thought he’d go crazy with the wait. Then she rose up on her knees, took him in hand, and pressed the tip of his hungry, hard cock at the soft give of her entrance.

And stopped.

No no no no no, what the fuck is wrong? Flint searched Goldie’s face for why she’d hesitated and saw her looking back at him, searching his face, with an expression of confused concern. His heart cracked open and Flint said what he thought would reassure her. “Do it, Pumpkin. I want you to.”

With a shuddering cry she sank down on him, her eyes never leaving his. The sweet slide of her warm, wet core gripped him, surrounded him like the softest velvet and Flint gritted his teeth to keep from uttering every curse word he knew because holy fucking shit this had to be Heaven and they were gonna kick his sorry ass out if he didn't watch his filthy fucking mouth. His muscles tensed and contracted and the bedframe creaked until he backed off but oh fuck nothing had ever felt so good as sweet, lovely Goldie taking his cock into that perfect little honey pot and moaning like she loved it as much as he did.

She leaned back, her hands braced on Flint’s thighs, and rode him hard, hips undulating in a primal, frantic rhythm. Flint was rapt, his eyes locked on the view of her sweet pink flesh engulfing his dark purple shaft, on the little wrinkle between her eyebrows that said she was close to climaxing again. Flint wished his hands were free so he could push her over the edge.

Goldie pumped her hips on his, the look on her face as their eyes met one of pleasure so intense it was almost pain, gasps and mewling moans rushing out of her trembling lips. “You feel so good. So big. I want more.”

Flint was holding on by a thread, the knowledge of Goldie’s pleasure the perfect cherry on top of the way she rode his dick. He gritted his teeth and held his lover’s gaze. “Take it. Take everything.”

It seemed to be just the encouragement she needed. Without missing a beat Goldie planted her feet next to Flint’s hips, both hands on his chest, and slammed her body against his. She was wild, uninhibited, working him ruthlessly, squeezing him deep, a breathless moan on her lips with every plunge. But her eyes were squeezed shut, her mouth open in a silent scream. Flint knew she needed more.

He couldn’t touch his woman with his hands, but he could still guide her. Push her to and over the edge just the way she needed. Make her feel it.

Flint braced his unbound feet against the bed and speared high into her core as she slammed down hard against him. Goldie’s eyes flew open and she gasped, smiled like a cat in a canary store. Flint grinned back. “You feel that? That’s all yours.”

Her smile spread, a flush taking over her breasts as Goldie swivelled her hips on his. “All of it?” He pushed up once more, his cock surging to rock-hard when Goldie’s eyes fluttered closed and her mouth opened wide. “Oh. Flint. Do it again.”

She couldn’t have stopped him if she begged, not when she’d just said his name in that sweet-hot tone. Flint blocked out the pain in his still-bound arms, braced his feet, and bounced Goldie on his cock as she screamed and held on tight, her fingernails digging into his chest, her hot, wet core pulsing with a power that dragged him to the edge, but he wouldn’t go over without her.

Her moans were wild and she begged for more, leaning over and pressing her mouth to his, sucking his tongue deep as he speared high and hard inside her with everything he had. Sweat poured off of Flint’s body but he wouldn’t stop. Not ever. Not while Goldie needed him.

She broke rhythm, a desperate look on her face as she backed just inches away, eyes locked on Flint’s, and ground against him. Goldie worked her hips like a fucking butter churn, grinding, sweeping, pressing hard so he felt himself deep inside her, stretching her with every continued thrust into her sweet heat.

Then, with a gasping breath, he felt it. Her climax pulsing, clenching, drawing at his plunging cock. Flint groaned. He wanted her breasts in his mouth. Wanted all of her pressed against him, inside him, around him,

As if she could hear his thoughts even through her bliss, Goldie leaned down. Her blue eyes caught his for just a split second before their lips met, greedy and demanding, generous and giving. It was more than Flint could do to hold back. With a mighty growl that turned into a roar he thrust once, twice more into Goldie’s welcoming core, spilling into her with all the love and devotion he felt in his heart. Her mouth against his was gasping, mewling, dripping words of satisfaction into him, all over him. “Flint. Yes. So good.”

But even through the fog of his blissed-out brain, Flint knew they were racing the clock. She was going to need him again, and soon. With a flex of his hips that made them both gasp, Flint snagged Goldie’s attention and spoke in the sexy growl he knew she liked. “Now set me free, Goldilocks, and I’ll show you all the ways I can make you feel just right.”