“Nope, I won, so I’m claiming my reward,” he said, and plopped her down on the couch, nudging her thighs open and settling in between them.
“Oh,” Misty said in surprise. “I guess—I guess I’m not complaining.”
“Mmm,” he said, nuzzling the soft skin of her inner thigh. She shuddered and opened her legs, letting him lick right up until he was parting her lips with his tongue and licking a long stripe up her clit. “Oh, God.”
Ty made an appreciative noise and kept going. Misty clutched at his enormous shoulders and let herself go—for once, let herself just relax and appreciate the sensations in her body.
His tongue was hot and clever, catching every little twitch of pleasure and drawing it out, making her quiver. Misty had always thought of herself as slow to climax, but Ty was proving her wrong—she was feeling the edge already, and he’d only been licking her for a couple of minutes.
He teased at her opening with a big finger, and she lifted her hips for it, wanting. He slipped it inside, and then another—and then a third, thick enough to stretch her out, bring the pleasure in her clit to a sharpened point. He sucked hard, licked quick and deep from his fingers up to the tip, and then sucked again, and orgasm rolled through her.
“Up,” Misty groaned when she could form words again, “come on, up, get up here—” She hauled him up, tearing at the waistband of his boxers—she heard the fabric rip, and had a moment of smug satisfaction; Ty wasn’t the only one who could tear people’s clothing off. Shifter strength was good for a lot.
Finally, finally, the boxers were out of the way, and Ty was over her as she laid back on the couch, lifting one leg, setting her foot on the back of the couch, opening herself to the air. It felt deliciously transgressive to be naked out here on this couch—she was never naked out here; there was never any reason to be.
But now Ty was settling between her legs, his cock nudging at her opening where she was wet and ready, already thrumming from her orgasm, open from his fingers. She made a desperate noise, and he thrust in.
There was no resistance, no tightness, just a smooth slide and a rush of pleasure, wet and warm, like falling into a bath. She closed her eyes and drank it in. Ty’s breath in her ear, his hot skin against hers, the shift of his muscles under her hands, the drive of his cock as he started to move.
“Oh,” she heard herself saying on a long, throaty sigh. She hadn’t known her voice could sound like that. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Ty said, deep and close. “Just like that. Misty, God, you’re so beautiful—”
She’d never thought herself beautiful in her life, but right now, caught in their rhythm together, she believed him. She lifted her face for a kiss, and he gave it to her. Their tongues slid against each other as she panted for air, and his cock drove deeper and deeper into her—reawakening her pleasure, reminding her body that she’d only come once, and she could go again.
“Oh, God,” she managed as he started to speed up. Whenever he bottomed out, he’d pause for a second deep within her, rotating his hips so sensation shot through her clit. It was simultaneously dirty and profound—the deep grind of pleasure combined with the knowledge that they were as close as two people could possibly be.
She realized her eyes were still closed, and opened them just in time to catch Ty’s mouth falling open, his face twisting in pleasure as he bottomed out one last time and came. Misty felt the surge inside her as though it were own pleasure, tipping her right over the edge into her own climax.
It seemed like it lasted forever.
***
Misty was woken up by her phone ringing.
She always kept the ringer on in case there was an emergency, and middle-of-the-night calls usually qualified. Eyes snapping open, she grabbed it and answered. “This is Sheriff Dale.”
“Sheriff,” said a woman’s voice, rough with emotion. “My boy’s in trouble.”
Misty sat up in bed. Next to her, Ty had come silently awake; he watched her alertly, no doubt able to hear every word of the conversation, with shifter hearing.
“Who is this?” Misty asked.
A sniff. “It’s—it’s Diane Bigelow. I need you to come down here. Ryder came by, he says he and Zeke were up in the mountains, and Zeke fell, and—and he doesn’t know if—”
“All right, ma’am, we’re going to get out there right away,” Misty said, in her calmest voice. “Were they in the Park? We can mobilize the rangers right now.”
“No—Ryder says no. They were out further east.”
“Okay. We can get the rangers to help anyway, I know, and I’ll wake up the deputies. If we have to, we can get the whole town to help. Meanwhile, I’m coming down right now.” Misty got out of bed, fumbling in her closet for her spare uniform jacket. Her other one was still in the Davidsons’ guest room, she remembered. “I’ll bring help. Is Ryder still there with you?”
“Yes, he is.” Diane’s voice turned sharp. Misty had the sense that Ryder wasn’t the subject of Diane’s good graces right at this moment. “Should I keep him here?”
“Please. I’m going to need him to show me where he left Zeke. I’ll be there in just a few minutes, all right, Diane? Stay calm and I’ll see you soon.”
“All right,” Diane said in an airless voice, and hung up.
Misty set her phone down and went back to getting dressed. Ty was already up, pulling yesterday’s clothes on. “Am I coming with you?”