Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

M ax’s mood had improved one hundred-fold.

As time wore on, he’d become totally engrossed in the historical gems he was uncovering, and less aware of Charlie. Gods, even he hadn’t realized how much valuable information was housed here.

Reading through Athelrose’s diaries, at times he’d almost felt tears forming. The young mothman had been forced to take the helm after the death of their commander in chief, an orc called Talbot Turgon, had left the monster army in disarray. Athelrose had been a mere private in the army, but he’d had an innate understanding of how to rally the monsters to pull together. He’d also possessed a ruthlessness when dealing with uprisings in those turbulent times.

As for Charlie, well, she was being the perfect research assistant, running around and finding him texts, taking down titles of books that might be of use to him and grouping them under headings on her laptop. “It’s all on my computer,” she explained.

He thanked her absent-mindedly. “Obviously, we’ll have to spend several days here in the near future, going over Athelrose and Amelia’s diaries,” he murmured, almost talking to himself. “Amelia’s account of severing all ties with her family and setting up in Motham, with only monster species as her allies, is riveting. Also, Charlie, if you can find anything about Selina, the first witch of Motham, that would be fantastic. She’s very under-represented in accounts so far, but I believe she opened the first apothecary.”

She’d nodded, her eyes sparkling, then dashed off to gather more volumes for him to check out, until he was practically buried under books, jotting down notes and headings frantically.

The Making of Motham was going to be a much longer book than he’d envisaged; already more chapters were taking shape in his head. He didn’t even think about lunch. Didn’t even consider that Charlie might need to eat. He was on a roll, and when Max Hunt was deeply engaged with his intellect, the rest of the world receded into the shadows.

It was mid-afternoon when he noticed she was standing in front of him with another dusty, leather-bound volume.

“I just found this.”

Max frowned, pulling himself out of an account of the early days of the Motham docklands, when humans had made monsters work for them in chains. Grueling stuff.

“What is it?” He raised a brow as she handed him the book.

“An account of the wolf mutiny.”

Max took it, frowning, and opened it to the first page, then looked at her in surprise. “This is an account of the wolf mutiny by Oliver Felcin himself. Gods, I didn’t have any idea it existed.”

She nodded, eyes shining. “Thought you’d like it.”

“Could you go check if there’s anything more about the mutiny?” Max asked, bracing himself for a shocking read.

“Sure, I found it at the top of one of the furthest shelves. I’ll go take another look.”

He made to stand, feeling suddenly ashamed he’d let her run around after him all day. “I can get it if it’s hard for you to reach.”

“Max, I’ve been up and down those ladders all morning, it’s great exercise,” she threw over her shoulder as she headed back along one of the rows.

Slowly, he opened the book, and started to read the words in spidery handwriting. It seemed like a confessional of sorts.

On the 18th of May, 48,351, I, Oliver Jeremiah Felkin, Colonel in the First Regiment of Motham City, did make an attempt with his men to overthrow our venerated leader, Athelrose Motham…

There was a sudden crackle, a blinking of the lights above Max’s head. He glanced up to the see the bulb sputter and then there was another, louder crack, and… darkness. Everywhere.

He waited, exasperated. Surely they had a generator?

Nothing happened.

Fuck.

Suddenly through the darkness, he heard a high, reedy call for help. “Max, I’m stuck.”

He jumped up, bumping into the desk, pushing his glasses up his nose as if that would help him see better. Which of course, it didn’t. “Where are you?” He fumbled for his phone, turned on the flashlight.

“I—I’m up a ladder, and it’s sliding around a bit. I can’t see a thing.”

“Hold on, I’m coming.”

He shone his flashlight along the aisles. “Call out again, so I can locate you.”

“Up here, next row.”

Finally, in the narrow band of light from his cell, Max located her at the end of a row of shelves, clinging to the top of a ladder, close to the vaulted ceiling, and much higher up than he’d expected her to be.

“If you shine the flashlight on the steps, I can probably see to get down.”

“Sure.” But when he got closer and shone the torch up, he gulped; the beam of light shot right up her skirt, revealing a slice of her thigh. He dipped it.

“Do you want me to hold the ladder?” he asked.

“Yes, please. And could you shine the light up higher, so I can see the steps?”

He tried to aim the beam upward and not pay attention to her gorgeous legs as she descended, but it proved impossible. The way the soft material of her skirt swirled around her legs gifted him tantalizing glimpses of her inner thigh, and… gods help him, he caught sight of the top of her stockings, pale silk against the dark of her skin.

Stockings!

Suddenly his libido sprang into life, his cock pressing against the fly of his pants. The ladder slid slightly along the rail, and Max had to lunge for it. In so doing, he managed to drop his phone. The light went out and they were plunged into darkness once more.

“Oh!” Charlie wailed. “What happened?”

“Dropped my bloody cell,” Max growled, looking around helplessly in the dark. “Can you keep climbing down?”

“I—er, yes… can’t see anything, but...”

“I’m holding the ladder again.”

“Okay, coming down.”

He held the ladder firmly and a moment later, the hem of her skirt brushed his face.

She let out a squeak. “Oops, my foot slipped.” Instinctively, he reached out and grabbed her ankle.

“Could you, maybe, help me down?”

He guessed that was an invite to reach for her, so he put his arms up, until his hands gripped either side of her hips. “Okay, I’ve got you.”

Her skirt skimmed his head as she came down the ladder. The sweet scent of her made his nostrils flare, his mouth fill with saliva.

“I’ll turn around, shall I?” she said.

“No! Charlie don’t come down forward, that’s not safe.”

But already she’d twisted around in his grip, and called out, “Catch me.” A second later she landed on his shoulders with a thud, her legs splayed either side of his head.

“Oops,” she giggled.

Max found himself incapable of speech as he tried to untangle himself from her skirt, but even as one part of his brain fought to disengage, the other part was reveling in the feel of her nestled right there, her pussy nuzzled close to his face… and the scent of her overpowering him…

And then she moaned… She fucking moaned his name.

Light-headed with desire, Max’s hands slid around her butt to steady her, the gusset of her panties now skimming his face. Her hands clutched his head, and instead of pushing him away, she was tugging him closer. He drew in her scent, relishing the sweet muskiness, the slippery silk of her panties against his nostrils. So close now that he could feel the nub of her clit through the material, the spreading warmth of her arousal.

Max grabbed her butt tighter. “Tell me to stop,” he growled desperately, and then he heard her gasp, “Don’t stop.”

And even though he knew he should override her pleas, that he should stop right now regardless, that he was her boss and he needed to get a grip, it had gone way too far for that already.

In the velvet darkness, a kind of madness overtook him, and with a groan his lips closed over that silk-encased bud. Charlie let out a whiny little gasp, her fingers winding into his hair, her knees pressed hard against his ears as she ground shamelessly into his face.

Max licked and sucked her clit like a starving beast, and she shivered and begged for more.

His tongue laved her faster, his grunts joining her mewls, echoing through the basement.

“Oh yes, Max, right there… oh gods, more…” she gasped again in that sweet, pleading voice.

By now his cock was so hard he was sure it was going to burst through his pants, and he had to press his groin into the side of the ladder to slake his lust. It wasn’t enough, he needed his tongue on her flesh. As he made to nose aside the scrap of material, he realized Charlie’s fingers had joined in to help him.

Max tore that scrap of silk off of her with his teeth and dropped it gods knew where.

Without constraints now, he lapped deep between her folds, dove his tongue inside her tight little hole then went back once more to suck on her clit as she dragged her fingernails through his hair and rocked back and forth, keening his name.

Gone were all considerations of bookish things… Gone was his beloved book research. Only this mattered… Charlie’s thighs shuddering around his ears, her sopping wet perfect little cunt pushing into his mouth.

Barely recognizing his own voice, he ground out, “You want this?”

“Yes. Oh yes…”

“Then fuck my face, sweetheart. Come for my mouth baby.” As he held her, his hands felt like massive paws, his fingernails like claws digging into the soft fullness of her butt cheeks… but it was too late for regret, too late for reason to win out over the wolf.

He had to carry this right through to its climax.

Her climax.

And with that, Max buried his face into Charlie’s sweet cunt and ate her with a ferocity he would not have believed himself capable of a week ago.