by JAX
The staff he held in his hands was the most rudimentary of weapons, nothing outwardly lethal about it. But in the right hands it was just as deadly as anything bladed might be, and his hands were definitely the right hands. The benefit of using just the staff was that it made him work twice as hard for victory, therefore working all of his muscles to the fullest extent and calling on every ounce of skill he could muster.
Jhon cracked the staff hard against the shins of his opponent and in a swift movement he hooked the thing back around to the rear of the knees and swept him fully off of his feet. His adversary landed on his back, a cloud of dirt coughing up around him and blinding him to the swift securing of the end of the staff against his throat. It brought with it a full defeat and the understanding that he was well outmatched even when Jhon wasn’t in a bad mood.
Jhon stepped away from his opponent and looked at the ring of guards standing there staring at the swift annihilation of their comrade.
“Next?” he asked.
After dusting the ground with three men successively in under fifteen minutes, volunteers were hard to come by. They all knew they were outmatched. The only one on the entire property who might have a hope of taking the big brute of a slave was the only other slave among them. And Najir was nowhere to be found at the moment.
Jhon looked them over with a frown, needing someone to give him a good run. That was when he spied the blue-skinned beauty at the heart of his fury running toward them, her long, black hair flying like a kite behind her. Jhon felt his heart lurch with sudden anxiety to see her so obviously distressed. He didn’t want to feel the compassion he felt, but he felt it just the same. It only served to make him angrier. How had she gotten so thoroughly under his skin so damn quickly? The power she had over him was becoming frustrating and so intense he hardly knew what to do with himself. All she had to do was shed one little tear and it was tying him up in knots!
He had never been the sort to fall under the spell of a woman’s wiles, so he couldn’t understand why he would do so now. Why did he make it so easy for her to work on him?
“Jhon!”
The way she called his name made his throat tighten with concern and worry…and frustration. Something terrible was upsetting her, turning the strong and confident Hanna he knew into this distressed, weakly panicking little thing. He had to force himself to remember that there wasn’t a single weak thing about the tall, proud beauty he had come to know. He forced himself to remember the marketplace and how she had been able to rip violently through full-grown men, tough men, with barely a thought.
Then Hanna broke through the ring of men surrounding him and ran to him, throwing herself against his sweat-dampened body, her elegant hands desperate as she clung to him. She didn’t even seem to notice that he had not dropped his weapon and he was not hugging her or touching her back. She didn’t seem to care.
“Jhon. I’m so sorry!” She cried it out without care or concern for the curious eyes that were on her. “I was so wrong and you were right. I’ve asked you to do the impossible and for all the wrong reasons, for reasons that are all my own and all so selfishly motivated!”
Her words began to sink in past the armor of resistance he was struggling to hold up against her. What she was saying, in full witness of her household, was finally sinking into his head. She was groveling for his forgiveness. Her. The Master of a great House. She was begging a slave for his good graces and his attentions.
Unable to stand it any longer and feeling a sudden creeping shame, Jhon held his weapon in a single hand so he might wrap the other around her. He hugged her to him strongly, closing his eyes briefly as he took in the scent of her hair beneath his nose and absorbed the trembling warmth of her body. She had never been shy about showing him affection or sexual interest in front of the household, but this was something very different. And suddenly, despite all of his earlier righteous anger, Jhon could see her behavior for the danger that it was. She was displaying a weakness for all to see. She was showing them all that her emotions could be affected at the whims of a slave. And if any one of those witnesses were to find themselves exploited for their knowledge of her, if Baron Majum were to get ahold of any one of them, then he would know without a shadow of a doubt that all of Hanna’s weakness lay in the person of a slave.
“Hanna, easy,” he tried to soothe her, trying not to feel the tumult of emotions that washed first one way and then another within him. First he wanted to tell her to control herself, then he wanted her to explain what she meant, what it was she thought she saw. Did she truly see? Did she see how damn untenable this whole situation was? He was a fighter rendered utterly powerless in this society, and more so under the simple touch of one woman’s tears.
Dropping the staff to the ground, Jhon turned all of his attention to Hanna. He wrapped her up tightly and protectively against him, lifting his head to glare at the curious eyes that yet gazed at them. Instantly they all began to pretend to look elsewhere, to inspect the weapons they held, to study the dirt at their feet. He knew it meant nothing. The only thing that mattered right then was Hanna.
Jhon bent to scoop her from the ground, her body flying up high against his chest even as she wrapped her arms like a tight vice around his neck. Her face pressed wetly against his throat and she simply sobbed. He could all but taste the depth of her regret and self-flagellation. He had no doubt whatsoever that she was feeling her mistakes with him just as deeply as he had wanted her to, and now he would wish for anything but. He wished he had not been so blunt and harsh with her. He wished that he were a better man who knew how to use words more diplomatically to slowly gain his way. Had he been a more patient man she would not now be so exposed. So raw.
Jhon carried her into the house, using his foot to shut the door behind them. He quickly brought her upstairs and into his room. As soon as he had her laid in his bed, he took both of his hands and smoothed them over her face, wiping away her tears before he leaned forward and kissed her on her forehead.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice so high-pitched it was like facing a child who had done something bad. It clawed at Vejhon’s heart to see her so low. “I have done so many things wrong. I’ve wronged you in so many ways and I don’t know how to make it up to you. I don’t know how I can change what I’ve done. How will you ever be able to stand me?”
“Ah, Hanna,” he sighed, wrapping her up tight and hugging her as closely as he dared. As strong and vital and powerful a woman as she was, she felt fragile just then in a way he had never thought possible. “You think I hate you, but I don’t. And it’s unfair of me to lay all the blame at your door. I did make choices here. Maybe they weren’t fully informed choices, but it was my choice to go ahead recklessly into them without seeing I knew everything there was to know. I am a powerful and independent man and I could have said no to you at any given moment, slave or no slave; you gave me that choice at almost every turn.”
Jhon pulled back until they were no more than a nose’s tip apart, looking fiercely into one another’s eyes. “But I need you to know that I cannot live my life with all these secrets. One I can manage, but a shipload? You ask too much of anyone to ask that of them. I can keep the secret of the bellcat, and I agree and understand why it must be kept. I know people, whether they are here or on my world or anywhere in the universe. People destroy what they don’t understand because it frightens them. You think I don’t see the danger here? I do. I see it all too well.
“But you can’t also ask me to be a slave but not a slave. It’s a lie and an illusion on both of our parts. A pretend slave is still a slave. Still a man with no rights. I’m not even allowed the freedom to choose to defend my own life. Armlet or no, if I defend you or myself I still have to face the antiquated laws of your people that say I am lower than even the lowest murderer and must die if I take his life. Where in anyone’s mind is that sane? Where does it make sense?”
“It doesn’t make sense. None of it does. And I have been wrong for being quiet about this
in the COM. You’ll see,” she sniffled. “Tomorrow you’ll see. I’ll be better. I don’t care what it takes…what it costs me. I’m going to change this. I’m going to fix it. I won’t rest until it’s no longer another secret for you. Do you believe me?”
She was so earnest, so eager for him to believe what she was saying. He also knew as well as she did that it wasn’t going to be an easy road. It wasn’t going to be as simple as flipping a switch and saying it.
Hanna reached with a stretch of her neck to kiss his mouth, her soft, full lips trembling with her emotion, but still lush with the ever-present sensuality she had always exhibited. Jhon found himself instantly taken in, the amazing aroma of her suddenly penetrating his senses. It was a real task to let her pull away relatively unmolested, but he knew she needed more than just the lusty bellcat within him.
In fact, he needed more than that lusty cat as well. He wanted to ease her hurting heart, make her understand that he trusted her. He wanted her to know how he felt. But it had never been easy for Jhon to be familiar with emotions outside of anger or righteousness. He had spent so much of his life as a fighter, he had no idea how to truly be a lover. But for the first time in his life he felt close to it. He felt something more than just sexual intimacy with a woman. Something more than just the hunger of attraction. Damn it, he wished he knew how to put it into words. He wanted to know the right way to speak the things he was feeling.
“Hanna, you know I care for you.” It was weak. A lame expression of the things he felt for her, but it was the only thing he could offer her just then. He needed time to sort it all out and figure the right way to connect with her.
“I care for you as well,” she said. “A very great deal.”
He realized he already knew that. He had known it the moment she had come running out to him begging for his forgiveness. If she hadn’t cared for him, it wouldn’t have mattered to her the things he said or thought. The understanding made him smile down at her, the grin irrepressible in the face of his understanding. He reached to brush back her hair, his fingertips gliding over the exotic contours of her cheek.
“You may not think that I do, but I count myself very lucky for the turn my life took in order to come to this. To come to you. I was made a slave long before you ever came into the picture, my fate sealed by enemies I will never lay eyes on again. But I know you were a one in a million stroke of pure luck. Had it been only a matter of minutes later, had Najir not stopped by that auction, I know I would be dead. Had Majum bought me…”
Hanna shuddered, shaking her head in an attempt to negate the thought that hung between them. He didn’t need to speak it out loud. They both know he would have rather killed himself than ever submitted to the likes of the Baron. He would have found a way. It was a terrible thought and one that Hanna couldn’t bear. She reached to kiss him again, her fingers diving into his hair and grasping onto the strands like a life preserver she refused to let go of. She opened her mouth to him, the flutter of her tongue against his lips enticing him to do the same. Before he knew it he was deep inside of her sweet mouth, savoring the luscious flavor of her.
And just like that the cats within them took over. Her nails scraped across his scalp, seeking out every nerve he had in his body. She made a low noise, a cross between a moan and a rumbling purr. Beneath him, her back arched and brought pressure to her breasts against his chest. He took in a breath through his nose and suddenly all he could smell was the divine scent of her needy little body. It made him growl low in his chest, made his hands streak to her sides and run hotly over her body. Suddenly the pronunciation of her ribs against his palms had him mad for the feel of her beneath him. But not this way.
No. He had another way in mind. And just like that he had her rolled over beneath him, face down on the bed. He lay over her, his cock nestling well at home in the space between her round cheeks. The instant he settled against her he was hard with wanting her, with needing her. As always, it felt exactly as it had that first time, all animalistic and uncontrolled. He rubbed against her fiercely, making his need known to her in no uncertain terms. As if he couldn’t help himself he opened his mouth on the back of her neck and bit down hard, holding her still for the surge of his hard body all along the back of hers. The cry she let out was nothing near distress and everything about pleasure. It made him harder just to hear it. It was a sensation that rippled over him like a wave of chills, only ten times stronger. He slid his hands beneath her and filled them with the heavy weight of her breasts. His knees wedged between hers, spreading her thighs apart.
Then he rocked back up onto his knees, turning his hands to brace against the bedding as yet another powerful shudder ran through him. Lust was like a beautiful red haze in his head, but there was more to it than that. There was more to them. He wanted to describe the feeling to her, to explain just how gorgeous it was, but he found he couldn’t speak. He was aware of her turning around beneath him, of her hands cradling his face.
“Don’t fight it,” she whispered to him. “It’s like being born, Jhon. You have to push your way into the world. You have to follow the will of each contraction and then slide free.” She ran her hands over his head and down his neck, stroking him over his shoulders and back until he thought he would purr with pure pleasure. He felt what she was talking about, as if he were hovering on the cusp of two different worlds. One was familiar, with Hanna, full of his overwhelming need for her, and the other…the other was vastly different. So much sharper. So keen in its way. His vision changed, color washing out to black and white at first and then slowly the monochrome changed so that the blue of her fabulous skin was the only thing to stand out for him.
His tongue seemed to grow too large for his mouth, so he opened it and began to pant in rough coughs of air. Every muscle in his body went tight and tense, almost to the breaking point and then…
Like birth, he slid into the Otherside.
He had thought such an enormous transformation would have to be painful in some way. He had thought he would need to be in motion, concentrating on it or somehow willing it to happen, and that might be true of the future, but like the bellcat instincts that had taken him over during the fight in the bazaar, this just overtook him and was in control before he even knew it. It was strange because at first he felt like a man trapped in a big cat’s body, and that it was a bad fit for him, like it was not meant to be. But then, like the aligning of planets to make a perfect horoscope, he settled into his new form as if they’d been the oldest of friends for the longest of times. He was aware of having all of his thoughts and logic firmly intact, but they immediately took a backseat to the call of his instincts, and his instincts were saying he had his mate beneath him.
As if she had read his mind, she rolled back over onto her stomach, settled squarely between his massive paws. He thought then of how fragile her skin was, how easily any one of his claws could puncture her in a deadly manner. She was his mate…but only almost.
With one large paw he swiped claws down her back, shredding the back of the gown she wore and exposing the rosettes along her spine. He only had a moment to look at them before they began to spread across her skin and ripple into black fur with barely discernable brown spots. Then she was bucking up against his deep chest, her spine writhing with a soft stroke of fur along his chest, belly, and groin.
That was when he was made to remember the true depth of his lust and need. He desired her more than anything, more than food or warmth or air. She, above all else, was the one thing he needed. He backed away from her slightly, his muzzle skimming her sides and then her rump. He could smell the heat on her, the depth of the musk scent on her making his head spin with need. He nosed his way beneath her tail and then used his rough tongue to lap at her several times, taking her wet taste like the aphrodisiac that it was.
It was all he needed. That and the receptive purr that rolled out of her. Before he could gather his thoughts he was dragging her beneath the huge press of his body, biting her o
nce again on the back of her neck and holding her still. He nudged his way past her tail and in all of an instant was sinking himself deep inside of her.
Here there was no trick to her body, no trap. In this form it was nothing but pure connection done absolutely perfectly. Jhon didn’t even think about what he was doing. He had her pinned beneath him and he wasn’t going to let her go until he had put his seed into her…possibly even his children. The man that he was knew that it was all right, that Hanna would do everything in her power to see that those children were born free. Free of slavery, free of the curse that hung over her family. The mating between them then turned savage and frantic. It wasn’t meant to be lovemaking or tenderness, although it was all of that within their minds; it was meant to be a claiming. He was taking her as his mate, for now…forever. She would be his and no one else’s. He would protect her, care for her, and carry her through good and bad times the best as he was able.
They would face the future together.
And as he felt orgasm racing up on him, he shook her in her place between his jaws to make certain she was well aware of it. She agreed to the message by raising her rump high in the air and making it as easy as possible for him to thrust inside of her. It was an act of total submission.
She was his.
18
When the couple broke apart, they fell aside and out of the Otherside as if they had synchronized the act between them. Changed from their cat selves to man and woman once more, they were left lying on their backs and trying to catch their breath. Hanna had no idea where his sudden change had come from, but she had recognized the struggle the instant she had seen it. She had known the minute he had changed what it was he would demand of her and she was more than willing to give it. Her heart was racing so hard in her chest she felt as if it would explode, but never had she felt so overwhelmingly satisfied. Never had she thought a mating could feel this way. She had never mated while in her bellcat form before, so how would she have known?
