An Unauthorized Field Guide to the Hunt Page 3

  Like Shane.

  Trembling more from exhaustion than fear, he tripped again. Too tired to bother lifting his spent, rubbery arms to protect himself, he face-planted into the forest floor, and the stingy amount of air he’d inhaled into his lungs escaped on a pained wheeze. Still, he rolled. He shook his head and forced his arms to push his torso up. Somehow he bent his legs under him, and groaning hopelessly, he lurched to his feet. He staggered, flinging a hand out to brace himself, but even before he found his balance, he was running again. His pace had devolved to urgent shuffling, but damn it, he kept moving.

  When the ungentle shove between his shoulder blades sent him flying back to the dirt, all Shane could think was, thank gods. The hideous race through the black night was over. The painful bounce of his body against the ground didn’t lessen his relief. The cat pounced. One hand gathered Shane’s arms above his head to manacle his wrists and push them into the leafy mulch. The other slammed down at the base of Shane’s spine. Shane arched, reared his head, and kicked—anything to loosen the cat’s grip or shake him off, but he was too depleted to put up much of a fight. The cat pinned Shane’s thrashing legs with his own. The weight on Shane’s wrists and on his back increased, at first merely uncomfortable and then intensifying. The pressure ground his vertebrae in wordless threat.

  With a hurt gasp, Shane froze. He let his body melt into the forest floor.

  The cat waited.

  Gradually the pressure on Shane’s spine relented. Shane didn’t rise or shift. He didn’t so much as twitch. Continuing to struggle would only win him more pain and possibly trigger greater aggression from the cat. So Shane lay, body loose and boneless. The cat slowly eased the hand away from Shane’s back.

  Swearing he wouldn’t fight this, Shane squeezed his eyes shut. When the cat raked claws down the line of his spine, shredding his shirt and leaving shallow, stinging cuts from the top of Shane’s shoulder to his waist, he stiffened. Cried out. Gods. His stomach flipped, but once he swallowed down his fear, Shane concentrated to assess the wounds. The scratches didn’t hurt much. He shivered at the cool night on his back, ruined shirt flapping in tattered shreds, but his blood trickled instead of gushed. The cat stroked Shane’s newly bared skin, the tip of one claw tracing the marks as though pausing to evaluate his work. Or perhaps admire it.

  Shaky but determined, Shane pressed his lips firmly together to stifle the scared animal sounds that wanted to tear from him as the cat skimmed the abraded skin with the pads of his fingers. Shane couldn’t move. The cat’s grasp locking Shane’s arms to the ground forbade that, and Shane wasn’t suicidal. He’d been caught fair and square. He wouldn’t resist. The gentle petting after the mating scratch—when he’d expected only a wild, rough fuck—unhinged him, though. He whimpered, a sound he’d never believed would come from his throat, but the cat didn’t stop. He caressed Shane softly, soothing, each skip of his fingers alarming and disarming Shane until he couldn’t take the anxiety roiling inside him a moment longer. “Please,” he said on a tremulous gasp.

  The cat wasn’t willing to give up gloating over his prize. He wouldn’t be hurried. He couldn’t be bargained with or his better nature appealed to. That didn’t stop Shane from begging again, “Please.”

  The material tightened around Shane’s chest, followed by the sound of rending fabric. Nudging the wrecked shirt apart, the cat swept a flattened palm up and down the quivering muscles of Shane’s back. “No,” he protested when the cat speared careful fingers into Shane’s hair, formed a fist, and gently but stubbornly tilted Shane’s head up in the direction of his imprisoned wrists. The cat drew Shane’s hands closer. The iron grip holding him captive dizzied him. The musk of the cat’s heat wafted around him, the aroma so rich Shane’s mouth watered at the scent. Like coffee and sex. Earthy. Irresistible. Shane breathed through his mouth rather than his nose to avoid the intoxicating smell coming off the cat, but too late. His dick stirred in his pants. His balls tingled. His asshole clenched and released as the cat’s cocktail of mating pheromones powered through him, inciting him. Inflaming him.

  The cat leaned over him, the first brush of fur against Shane’s torn and naked back like a brand. Cats were hot, their normal body temperatures several degrees higher than humans’. He’d known that. He hadn’t prepared for the sleek velvet of the cat’s pelt against his skin, though, or how bewitching that warmth would feel.

  Damn it, the cat’s scent was getting to him! He parted his lips to take in cool, fresh air, but the damage was done. When the cat looped an arm around him to lift his hips from the ground, then skimmed a caress down, chest to stomach, Shane trembled, murmuring a faint protest only when the cat fumbled at the waistband of his pants.

  Sex.

  The cat would fuck him.

  And the cat hadn’t sharpened his claws on Shane nearly enough.

  Shuddering in equal parts fear and longing, drunk on the pheromones the cat generated in intensifying waves, Shane stilled as the cat snagged the waistband of his pants with one claw and tugged. The fabric inched over his ass cheeks and lower. He quivered at the decadent, silken heat of furred thighs pressing into the backs of his as the cat moved into position. The cat growled, the husky sound accompanied by the slick slide of his fat cock along Shane’s crack. Electrifying arousal bolted through Shane. As scared as he was, he nevertheless spread his legs as much as the pants banding his thighs allowed and tipped his ass up.

  The furry cockhead, oily with fluids the cats produced when their bodies primed to mate, kissed Shane’s hole. Shane opened his fists, and he splayed his fingers in mute terror. He relaxed his taut muscles. He didn’t want to hurt more than he had to.

  He keened as the first thrust breached his ass. He stiffened at the pain of his ring stretching. Only a stingy portion of the cat’s rigid length stabbed into his body. Chest heaving, a broken moan falling from his lips, Shane reminded himself that the cat’s dick wasn’t built all that much different from a human cock. He could take it and had practiced with dildos and plugs at the screening center to ensure that would be so—the ones shaped to reflect human anatomy to start, and later toys that mirrored the cats’ dicks. They were basically the same length and girth. That the cat’s cock also included a ridge of tiny backward-pointing spines circling the head to lock partners in place during sex wouldn’t hurt him as long as he didn’t try to break free. Most of the Hunt’s rejected competitors agreed the extra stimulation the spines provided was amazing, not painful.

  If Shane didn’t fight the coupling.

  Grunting, he took more of the cat’s dick inside him, senses zinging at the scrape of those ridges along the walls of his ass when the cat withdrew before pumping into him again. Thoughts already whirling, he whined into the leaves pressing to his cheek as the cat fucked into him, and then cried out in sharp agony as he reflexively flinched at the burning discomfort. Deep within him, those spines raked his insides, punishing his defiance with excruciating efficiency.

  The cat rumbled a soothing purr and blanketed Shane with his body, free hand moving from Shane’s back to his hip. The claws sinking into his flesh stung, but that hurt comforted Shane. If the cat forced him to be still, Shane wouldn’t inflict extra misery on himself. Even with that wide cock opening his ass, Shane finally managed to relax. He let the cat in because if nothing else, he trusted the cat to make him take it.

  He wouldn’t be allowed to injure himself again.

  Groaning, he shook at the tickle of the cat’s fur against his ass cheeks, and with a yelp he took the last of the cat’s cock into his hole. Body acutely sensitive and energized with adrenaline, he bore down, muscles clenching around the alien dick fully seated in his ass. The cat’s chest, warm and fuzzy, vibrated approval and wordless praises against Shane’s naked back. A rough, raspy tongue licked his earlobe.

  Shane shivered.

  The cat chuffed, hot breath fanning Shane’s neck as he eased his oily dick from Shane’s hole. Shane couldn’t contain his breathless moan a
s those spines massaged his insides, electric jolts of pleasure exploding deep within him as the tip of the cat’s dick dragged over his prostate. Overstimulated, he twitched, but the cat’s grip held him still.

  Holy shit, that was fantastic.

  He cried out when the cat pressed back in and rubbed deliciously over Shane’s gland again. Even if Shane wanted to fight, he couldn’t. Lust swamped him, pulling him under. No wonder defeated competitors returned to the Hunt despite the dangers. The scent of the cat taunted him. The rocking glide in and out of his ass enthralled him, and the stroke of the spines wreathing the cat’s dick maddened him. Nothing could ever best this helpless, abandoned pleasure. Nothing.

  Paying no heed to Shane’s mindless moans, the cat fucked him. Shane’s dick stabbed from his groin untouched yet hard as flint and leaking precum. Dazed, Shane struggled against the restraining grasp on his wrists. He had to reach down, stroke his cock in time with the cat’s thrusts. He needed to come, but the cat just snarled at him, readily controlling him. “Please,” Shane begged one last time.

  Unfortunately the cat wasn’t interested in mercy. He fucked Shane slowly, gently. The aroused tingle in Shane’s ass zipped to his balls, drawing them tight against his body. He writhed under the cat, meeting each pump into him as much as the cat’s claws puncturing the meat of his hips would allow. The cat’s musk dizzied him. He couldn’t breathe without sucking that magical scent in, and oh gods, the mellow slide of the cat’s dick drove him out of his head. Even the purr in his ear sounded wonderful, full of sex and power. Full of greedy hunger.

  Shane arched his back as his orgasm raced up his untended dick. With a stunned shout, he spurted semen in pulsing bursts onto the ground. His world skidded sideways. He gritted his teeth while the storm of pleasure swept him away. The cat thrust into his ass, riding out the instinctive clench of muscle that wrung Shane out. Shane shot what felt like gallons, emptying his balls.

  The cat licked his neck and then pushed off Shane’s body. His still-rigid length slid free, wresting another shattered cry from Shane. The hand holding both of Shane’s down vanished.

  As did the cat.

  Wrecked, bewildered, Shane sprawled in the dirt with his ass high and his body still quaking from his orgasm. He shivered at the cooler air whispering over his sex sweat as well as the mating fluids the cat had smeared into his cleft.

  What the hells just happened?

  Holy gods, Shane couldn’t make his body work. The cat had fucked him stupid, best sex of Shane’s life. And the cat hadn’t even come. They weren’t finished.

  That thought finally spurred him to move. Sort of. Panting, he lurched forward on his knees, and because his arms weren’t listening to his brain yet, he only managed to shove his face deeper into leaves and mulch. Spitting out dirt, Shane shook his head. And whimpered.

  He had to leave, had to run. To hell with the Hunt and his strategy for retaining a cat’s interest longer than a single coupling. Shane needed to escape. He still ached, empty, and craving the cat’s return like a drug.

  Somehow he mustered the strength to push off the forest floor. He used gelatinous arms to pull his way to his feet by dragging himself up a nearby tree. Chest heaving, he stumbled into the darkness, and once he’d steadied, he broke into an awkward lope. He ran. Not from the cat this time. There would be no escaping this hunt.

  Shane ran from himself.

  He raced through the black night. He crashed into trees. Sticks he couldn’t see stabbed. Thorns he never knew were there scratched. He didn’t even remember to pull his pants back over his still-tingling ass until he tripped and skidded over the ground, rocks digging into the set of punctures lining his left hip. Whining—no point in trying to be quiet now that the cat had sampled him—Shane yanked his pants up his hips. He hauled himself up, and he fled. He forced his shaky legs into a sprint. Nothing could stop him, not the endless night or the obstacles the forest threw in his way.

  The cat would take him again. Fuck him. Dope him with that mesmerizing scent and make Shane come and come. Make him want it.

  All he could do was run.

  Many, many lifetimes later, the cat yowled and struck, slamming Shane against the unyielding bark of a tree. Winded by the impact, head spinning, he could only shake as claws tore the tattered remains of his shirt from his shoulders and then swiped at his pants, ripping a long seam to expose him this time. The cat didn’t bother with the foreplay of sharpening those claws on Shane’s flesh or with tugging down his destroyed pants. As soon as the fabric fell away from Shane’s ass, the cat’s hot, furry body covered Shane, and he thrust inside, hard.

  Shane shouted.

  It wasn’t the pain, though the rough entry hurt enough to register above the white noise of throbbing cuts, bruises, and the scratches carved into his back. He shrieked in a welcome relief that scared him worst of all. Tree bark chafed his stiffening dick, which mashed into the wood with each stab of the cat’s slick cock into his hole. The smell of their sex enraptured him. His fingers scrabbled for some kind of hold, for a nook or crack in the tree bark to hang on to, but there was nothing except the wicked pleasure in his ass and the heady arousal that consumed him. The cat snarled, pumping into him faster. Pinioned, Shane moaned. His senses whirled into the chaos of the coupling. The unrelenting heat of the cat burned into his shoulders, his spine, his ass cheeks, and thighs. It felt so damn good, soft fur an explosion of sensory delight against Shane’s skin. The cat’s dick lunged inside him, his body rocking with each crude thrust.

  Shane whimpered as his balls tightened.

  Wouldn’t be long now.

  The cat fucked him, snapping hips accompanied by guttural growls that made Shane quiver anew. Claws dug into him, piercing his hips again to lock him in place, and that was all it took.

  With an abandoned wail, Shane tensed. His mind splintered. He painted the tree with his semen, dick shooting ropes of cum. His ass clamped down on the cat’s cock buried inside him, but the cat bucked, fucking him through the orgasm a second time, wringing every last drop of pleasure from Shane’s wasted body. When his senses righted and he could swim up through the fragmented insanity of his release, the cat purred against his nape. Before Shane’s moan died, the cat tore his dick from Shane’s hole and sprang away.

  Without the cat’s support, Shane collapsed at the base of the tree. He panted, shaking and sweat-soaked, too exhausted and clumsy from their sex to move. He flung out an arm because he had to. No matter how his body hummed and his messy cock tingled, he had to go.

  Because the cat hadn’t come.

  He still wasn’t done with Shane yet.

  Shane forced his gluey muscles to obey his brain’s urgent commands. He planted his palms against the craggy bark and heaved, propelling away from the site of his latest wanton disgrace. When he shifted his torso in order to crawl, his legs tangled in ragged, fraying material. Losing his precarious balance, Shane crashed to the ground with a pained groan, only then remembering his destroyed pants. He kicked free from the twisted and tattered mess, but the remnants of his clothes hung up on his boots. So he toed them off too.

  Wincing because of his sensitive dick, he mopped his sticky groin with a scrap of cloth and tossed the ruined fabric aside. Naked, he stretched, hands grasping dead leaves and skinny vines lacing the forest floor. He speared his fingers through it all to dig into the dirt and pulled himself forward. Shoving his wobbly legs under him, he crawled. When his racing heartbeat slowed, he struggled to his feet.

  He didn’t know where he was anymore or where he was headed.

  He just knew the cat wasn’t finished with him, and he had to run. He stumbled. He tripped and fell. Every time, he whined at the fresh hurt pulsing through his body at the increasingly awkward landings, but he still pulled himself up. The fastest he could move was a shambling lurch, but he hadn’t given up or given in. He kept going.

  No sign of the cat. None.

  Maybe he’d lost interest? Shane wasn’t cooperating.
He wasn’t fighting the cat, no. Other than brief flares of panic, Shane had yielded to the cat’s every lust, but he wasn’t welcoming the cat to the use of his body either, despite the slap of pheromones that stirred Shane’s need to a fever pitch. Two mind-crippling orgasms hadn’t even persuaded Shane to invite the cat in. He’d surrendered his body when he’d had no other choice. But he hadn’t truly submitted.

  Cats liked a challenge. Shane was counting on that.

  Had his tenacity proved too tiresome? So many competitors crowded the arenas, inventive lovers eager to be taken. Why waste another moment of the Hunt on one stubborn human?

  Crushing satisfaction warred with hopeless dread when the cat pounced again, this time knocking Shane into a waist-level ledge of rock covered in springy moss. Disoriented, Shane grunted as the cat’s heavy weight bent him over. Shale crumbled beneath him. Then he groaned in dazed protest as the cat grabbed his waist to flip him. His rubbery arms flew up at the sharp yank, fingertips falling to the loose, moist dirt over his head. The scratches on his shoulder found immediate relief the moment damp moss pressed into the shallow wounds. The ledge dug into the base of his spine. He shuffled his feet to find his balance, but the cat made short work of keeping Shane exactly where the cat wanted him with a muscled arm over his abdomen.

  Hot wet enveloped Shane’s soft dick.

  He screamed.

  The cat licked, the gritty surface of his tongue on the head of Shane’s cock horrible and amazing all at once. He sucked, and Shane’s senses tensed to vibrant alert.

  He couldn’t.

  Not again.

  The cat pinned Shane’s wiggling hips in place with the arm at Shane’s stomach and slurped at his dick as though Shane were a special treat. Crying out incoherent objections, Shane reached down to the cat’s bobbing head, nerveless fingers encountering tufts of hair and a thin ridge of flesh that must’ve been one of the cat’s ears. He instinctively curled his leg toward his molested, overstimulated groin. The cock in the cat’s mouth smothered the snarl, but there was no mistaking the clatter of claws scraping clumsily against one another and the burn of new stripes scoring Shane’s thigh in response. He gasped at the sting, snatching his hands away. Only a warning. Disappointingly, the hurt didn’t flare laser-hot. The cat growled around Shane’s dick, so heart thudding, he splayed his legs to give the cat room to work.