When a shifter talks an already half-mad doctor into merging science and dream to create a shapeshifting formula, the results are nearly catastrophic, and the only one who can calm the good doctor in his newly changed forms is Mara. But, she will half to appeal to the beast in him in ways that truly reach the core of his ravenous sensibilities.Heat Level: 5 out of 5Length: 4252 wordsInside: Tentacle sex, monster sex, shifter sex, coercion, bargaining, paranormal romance, rough sex, macrophilia (huge shaft), lactation, breeding, impregnation, instinctual breeding, curvy heroine, curves, doctor, mad scientist, tentacles, deep penetration, retro stylings, seducing the assistant, multiple sex scenesExcerpt:The shifter leaned into the doll-faced woman, a red ivy vine tentacle wrapping itself around her tiny waist. His teeth nipped into the half-dollar aureola tipping her breast. She arched her back and moaned despite herself.“What are you?” She managed to ask between pants.“A walking orgasm. Want some?” He answered, pulling her nipple out of his mouth. The receptionist gasped watching the fibrous tendrils circling his arms like vinework grow into something much more substantial. He grinned, lifting her dress, and ran his fingers over the peach fuzz smattering of hair covering her snatch. “I want to be in you, Eli,” he said, breathing heavily in her ear. “Do you want me in you?”“W-Which part of you?” She asked, her pussy betraying her thoughts with the small trickle of wet slipping of her teardrop hole.“Depends on how wide you want me to spread that sweet fruit coming in my hand, babe.”Eli moaned when the thickest of his tentacles slid up her dress and slithered into her tight channel, plunging and retracting itself in a dizzying, ramming rhythm. Another followed, thrusting into her tight fleshy cup when the other retracted. She clapped a hand to her mouth, her slanted eyes widening with surprise before she squeezed them shut, groaning as the shifter’s tentacles pounded her with relentless strokes, ramming her against the wall, where the red bun at the top of her head bumped the bricks repeatedly.
