(MxM) Tales Of A Shifter (P1) - The Meeting

Chapter 23 - Frying Pot To Fire

Chapter 23 - Frying Pot to Fire

Damn! I... I liked that a little bit too much...

Ezekiel panted to himself. He wasn't tired, but the adrenaline crawling all along his heart made him gritty. As did the Leopard inside that was wide awake and snarling to get free.

And it wasn't mad like he was. No. It had enjoyed the chase...The Leopard was pouring its power into him, scratching at his mind, trying to break free. It liked the hunt.....maybe a little too much.

Ezekiel ignored its mewling calls in his head and tried to focus on the strange green-eyed mortal who was proving to be as slippery as an ell, even with his exhaustion clear to the naked eye.

How in god's name is he still able to move!

Ezekiels asked himself.

He was two seconds from death this morning. What the hell did mom do to him?

Knowing that these questions were really the last things he should be worried about, he shook them away like the demanding call of his inner beast.

Hoping to waylay any more of the mortal's crafty moves and thus the mortal's desperate attempt to escape, Ezekiel pinned the mortal to the wall with his thighs and chest while his hands held the mortal's arms immobile above his head. The mortal screamed profanity at him and struggled mightily against his hold, and though Ezekiel had to tighten his grasp on his wrists to keep the mortal in his power, he could feel the frailty of the man's body as it pushed against him. But beyond all this. Beyond the screaming and the aggression was the reality that the mortal was right up against him. His heat, amplified by the fever burning in his pale skin, poured into Ezekiel's chest and stomach as the mortal pressed into him. His mint green eyes were full of cool calculation and fury.

He was obviously furious at Ezekiel for boxing him in, but beneath that, Ezekiel could see the calm edge of his thoughts. He could see that the mortal was trying to get a grasp of his surroundings and maybe even think up an escape plan.

And then there was the smell of him. A curious scent that had haunted Ezekiel ever since their meeting in the woods. There was no set way for Ezekiel to describe the smell. It was more of the feeling that came with the mortal's scent that haunted him. He in-hailed, and it was like a spike of awareness strait to his gut and spine, a hum, a burn. Pleasant, but unpleasant. It was warm and shocking but constant. That awareness had stuck with him for days, and now here he was with the mortals' scent all around him.

With the mortal standing before him he felt that same spike in his stomach. That same awareness.

The mortal had finally stopped screaming at him and sagged up against him slightly. He was exhausted. His legs shook against the front of Ezekiels thigs and the heat of fever wafted off the mortal's skin, making him wonder if they would have to put him into a tub of ice sometime soon.

Ezekiel took this time to regain his own breath, and as he dropped his head and sighed deeply, his face came closer to the mortal. The stranger's head was tipped back, giving Ezekiel a clear view of his throat. As the mortal also tried to get back his strength. So close to his pulse, Ezekiel caught his breath as the stranger's scent washed over him thoroughly.

He began to lean forward, chasing that...smell.

Unbidden his nose, then his lips brushed against the side of the mortal's throat.

God, I must be losing my mind, but....his scent is just....

Ezekiel's eyes drifted shut as he felt the soft warmth meet his lips. His skin suddenly felt like silk, which made Ezekiel want to touch him more. He inhaled and ex-hailed, drowning himself in that smell before he let his mouth drift open and slowly let his teeth ghost across his throat in a soft bite.