Cyr tore his lips away, giving her a chance to catch her breath. His gaze was dark, the rush of hot air as it fanned over her face as he tried to control himself. He was just as turned on as she was, and the evidence was thick and heavy against her inner thigh.
“If you don’t want this, say something now. Once I get started, I’m not going to be able to stop.”
“I want this,” she said, and to prove her point, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. Cyr lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist while his free arm slid down until his hand was firmly planted on her ass. He walked them into a wall at first, and they almost knocked over a vase.
“Careful,” he whispered against her lips.
“That was you, not me. I’m not the one walking.”
“Right.”
They continued their journey down the hall into the guest room she’d originally been staying in, and with the ease of a man used to doing things his way, Cyr positioned her on the bed.
“You’ve done this before.”
He grinned. “How could you tell?”
Onessa smirked up at him and shrugged her shoulders before scooting farther up on the bed.
“Oh, I don’t know, something about you screams pro.”
Cyr reached behind his neck and tugged his shirt over his head with one arm while unbuckling his belt with the other. Yeah, he’s a fucking pro.
One moment, he was clothed; the next, he stood naked in all his manly glory. The tattoos on his body were works of art. A puff of air left her chest as she lay there gawking. Each arm was covered in tribal markings, but they weren’t anything she’d seen before. Onessa’s eyes devoured Cyr’s skin, from his defined abs to the dark trail of hair that led straight to his straining erection. He wasn’t the least bit shy and had no problem allowing her to look her fill.
She didn’t want to come off as too eager, so she slowly peeled off her jeans and top. Left in her boy shorts and sports bra, she waited for Cyr’s reaction. She didn’t have to wait long. He stroked his length as he gazed longingly at her. Her body heated every place his eyes wandered.
“You’re beautiful everywhere. Turn over, show me your ass.”
Onessa didn’t argue, she turned and presented her backside. If anyone else had asked her to do that, she’d have balked. But not with Cyr. For some reason, he made her feel empowered. His sharp intake of breath explained the movement of his hands over her skin. He’d gotten a good look at her back. Her tattoo. But if it affected him in a particular way, he didn’t say anything. The heat of his hands drift across the backs of her thighs before his fingers skimmed the edges of her underwear. Her back arched as she moaned. She wanted him. There was no denying that.
Thoughts of them tangled together invaded her mind as the heat of his mouth whispered over her lower back. His hot lips made her shiver as he traced her spine with his tongue.
“I may just pass out,” Onessa murmured.
“Why?” he asked.
The full press of his body was on her now. She realized, much to her amazement, that he was rubbing his body back and forth over hers. Like a cat. Cyr placed his hands next to hers as he leaned forward. The heat of his dick pressed into the crack of her panty-covered ass.
“I want you now.” It was the only coherent answer she could give him. Cyr nibbled along her shoulder, his stubble doing wonderful things to her skin. Onessa’s body was strung tightly enough to cause her to tremble.
“Patience. Let it build. It’s better this way,” he implored against the back of her neck. She looked at where his fingers touched hers, and she could see the strength in his hands as veins protruded from beneath the skin. Cyr held the sheet beneath them in a tight grip, and she could have sworn she saw the hint of claws. Instead of being scared, she was excited by the thought of being taken by Cyr. A werecat, part man, part predator. Never in a million years would she have ever believed any of it was real. Unable to control her own actions, she pushed back and wiggled her ass against his length, letting him know she was ready.
“Another night, I’m going to pay homage to this ass, but right now, I need to do other things.” Cyr worked quickly. He wound his arm around her waist, lifted her, and then turned her, pulling her beneath him.
Onessa was surprised at the soft heat coming from Cyr’s gaze. He slowly peeled off her underwear, tossing them on the floor. He rose above her and slowly kissed a path from her neck to her belly where he lingered. His hands roamed over her skin, causing her to cry out in pleasure. The feel of his roughened hands against her skin deepened the desire already tugging at her core. Cyr removed her bra next, and his hand kneaded and pinched, heating her further.
“Please…I need more,” Onessa panted.
Cyr didn’t disappoint. He cupped her cheek as her eyes searched his. She saw it then. The yearning, the need for her. “I’ve wanted you from the moment you walked into my office, Onessa. Sorry I’ve been acting out of character. Sometimes my mouth gets away from me. Everything about you is beautiful and kind. You’re an unexpected breath of fresh air, and you totally threw me with your gorgeous eyes, and soothing lyrics. The other night, I did watch you, but it was your voice that called out to me, led me to you.” The words were passion-filled as he ran his nose up her throat and licked the shell of her ear before growling softly against the column of her neck. Best apology ever. He used his free hand to travel the length of her body where he placed his hot palm against her opening. She knew she was wet; she’d been primed since dinner.
Onessa hissed. “Inside me. Now.”
Stretching her arms above her head and spreading her legs wide, she grabbed the headboard and urged him forward with one of her legs. Their bodies fit perfectly, skin against skin. The deep tan of his against the warm shade of hers. Cyr was more than familiar to her, she could see it now. Her grandmother had once said that all lives were tied together by destiny. Some more than others. The tattoo on her back was a testament to that. She’d been dreaming about him for years.
The long glide of his cock slid against her opening incessantly. Cyr didn’t penetrate her, but continued to rub against her in the same fashion he’d done with his body. It made Onessa wild with wanton desire. A soft purr echoed from his chest. Like the big cat he was, he rubbed his body against hers again until finally positioning himself at her opening.
“You’re so wet,” Cyr crooned against her throat before sliding inside.
EIGHT
ONESSA FELT LIKE HOME. Like his. He wasn’t going to think about what it all entailed; instead, he opted for his earlier statement. When she’d presented her ass to him, he’d been momentarily stunned. The tattoo on her back was him. Or at least it looked like him in cat form. The eyes, the markings, the tree the cat lounged on—it looked exactly like the tree he would sit in with his late wife, Una. Focus on the now.
Sliding into the slick opening at her core, Cyr hissed. He couldn’t help himself. She felt so fucking good. He didn’t want to be away from her, he didn’t want to lose the connection they shared. He refused to be quick. He would take it nice and slow.
Cyr glided his fingers along her stomach and hips. He placed his hands underneath her thighs, lifting her legs so she’d wrap him up nice and tight as he thrust deep. A continuous movement that threatened to take him over the edge. The walls of her pussy milked him until he had no choice but to give in to his primal desires.
Picking up the pace, he rode her harder. His thrusts became precise. He was falling to pieces, over a woman he hardly knew. When she clawed his back, Cyr swore he could see stars as his eyes closed against his will. He quickly changed positions, making her straddle him. “Ride me.”
He was close, but she was closer. He lost concentration as she rode him while his hands gripped the globes of her ass.
Grinning up at her, Cyr said, “Gotta keep up.” He pushed her onto him with brutal force. He could feel the tip of his cock touching the very heart of her, and by the sounds coming fr
om her mouth, he could tell she loved every minute of it.
“You just worry about staying up, I can handle the rest,” she breathed against the side of his neck. Her back arched, and her hands tangled in his hair as she clutched him to her. The force of her orgasm was his undoing, and as her body shook in his arms, Cyr let go, his loud grunt drowning out her passionate cries.
Onessa collapsed on top of him, her body shifting slightly to the side.
“I can’t move. Don’t ask me to. The answer is no,” she said on a quiet exhale.
Cyr pulled her deeper into his side and kissed the top of her head.
“Sleep. Tomorrow we cook.”
“You think my ankle will be okay,” she asked groggily.
“Yeah, you were fine tonight. If it starts to bother you, I’ll bring in a chair.”
Her response was a deep snore. Cyr smiled to himself. This could work.
The next couple of weeks were a blur of cooking, laughing, and lots of lovemaking. Onessa was fascinated with all things Cyr. They lounged on a thick branch of one of the willow trees, the hanging leaves creating an intimate curtain around them. She had her back to the trunk, and Cyr’s heavy head rested in her lap. He’d shifted and climbed up so he could lounge on her. She sat rubbing his head; his black fur thick and soft as she tugged on his ears. He purred like a house cat, only louder. His large body straddled the limb with his tail and legs hanging on either side as his head rested in her lap. From a distance, he looked completely black, but up close, she could see his leopard print pattern.
“You two look super cozy up there.”
Onessa looked down at Alaric, who smiled.
“Thought you were making dinner for all of us tonight? We want to see what you’ve learned.”
She’d learned a lot from Cyr, and time was dwindling down. Don’t think about the time. But lately, it was the only thing on her mind. Time. He hadn’t asked her to stay, and she honestly didn’t know the answer even if he had asked. Let it go. Enjoy the moment. Right. They had a dinner to prepare.
“Yeah, keep your claws sheathed, we’re coming down.”
“Cute, Nessa, real cute,” Alaric said, walking away.
Tonight, was a special night for Cyr and his people. The females in the community were announcing their commitments to their males. For werecats, it was the females that chose their mates. The males recognized who their mates were on sight, but it was the females who decided.
Cyr lifted his head and watched Alaric walk off before turning his beautiful gray and teal eyes up at her. He couldn’t talk in this form, but she liked to think they had a connection.
“All right, pussycat, let's go and show them how it’s done in the kitchen.”
Cyr nudged her with his head and dropped gracefully to the ground on all fours. Never missing a beat. Onessa climbed down and followed him back into the house.
They made love in the shower, her back to his front as he entered her. Cyr growled in her ear. “You think I’m a pussycat, do you?” Cyr fisted his hand in her hair, tugging almost painfully as he glided in and out of her from behind. Onessa’s hand slapped the tile as she braced herself against his powerful thrusts that had her on tiptoe. Each movement pulled lustful moans from her throat.
Onessa turned to look back at him, and he licked the side of her neck before biting down on her shoulder gently. Cyr pulled her into his chest, and his arm banded around her stomach to hold her in place. The sting of his teeth was almost her undoing.
“Touch yourself, gorgeous. Give me what I want.”
Onessa rubbed her clit frantically as Cyr pumped into her from behind. They shuddered their release at the same time as steam from the shower billowed around them.
“Geez, remind me to call you names more often.”
Cyr laughed at her as he gently pulled out and turned her in his arms.
“You can call me anything you want as long as I’m yours.”
Whoa.
“Mine?”
“Yeah, yours.”
Onessa wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He hadn’t asked her to stay longer, but he hadn’t asked her to leave either. Maybe he will tonight.
Dinner was a hit. Everyone loved Onessa’s cooking. Well, she did have an excellent teacher. Cyr chuckled to himself before raising his glass of wine to everyone at the table. He was there with friends and family. Alaric liked her, and if he did, that would mean everyone else did. Everything was going fine, and he was about to give a toast to the chef when Una’s mother walked in.
She looked pissed. Which wasn’t good. He hadn’t expected her to show, and Alaric had told him inviting her wasn’t a good idea. At least not right now. Tilly still mourned the loss of her daughter, and although Cyr hadn’t thought about Una while he was with Onessa, the guilt he hadn’t felt previously was now digging into his veins.
“You would so easily replace my daughter and grandson, Cyriaque?” Tilly asked in a shrill voice.
“Mother, you shouldn’t be here. You’re in no condition—”
“Shut up, Alaric, you, too, betray your sister’s memory. Allowing him to walk around happy with her.” Tilly pointed in Onessa’s direction. “She isn’t a cat, she’s fragile. Human. Breakable,” Tilly cried.
“Please, Tilly, I love your daughter, I love my son.”
“Then how? Tell me how could you do this? She doesn’t have your mark.”
“Mother, fate has seen fit to give him another chance at happiness. Why can’t you be happy for him?”
“I told him Una was fragile and not to saddle her with a child right away. But he didn’t listen, and because he didn’t listen, I lost my daughter and my grandson in one night. I lost it all in one night!” she yelled.
“I lost her, too!” Cyr bellowed. “You’re not the only one, Tilly. I lost her, too. There will never be another Una. There is no replacing my late wife. No one!” Cyr screamed. He didn’t know if he said it out loud more for himself or to convince Tilly, but it was true. He should never have started this thing with Onessa. She was leaving. She wouldn’t stay, and if she did stay… Tilly was right. She wasn’t a shifter. Beau would be an issue, especially after the death of his cousin. Cyr couldn’t put Onessa’s life at risk. He had enough to worry about with his own family and the restaurant. He was too busy to fit her into his complicated life. Again, you chose the job over someone you love. Someone he loved? No, that wasn’t right at all. She wasn’t someone he loved. He barely knew her. You know her body like the back of your hand. No, that didn’t count. Not at all. The room started to get small. His anger rose. Cyr fisted his hands at his sides and prayed for strength. His gut twisted. He tightened his jaw and grunted.
Cyr backed away from the group and out the back door. He didn’t think, he didn’t wait. He shifted and ran. He ran as far and as fast as his paws would carry him. He ran away from the memory of Una and his son, and he ran away from Onessa. But really, he was running from himself.
NINE
“DELIA, what mark was Tilly talking about?” The others had all gone out to participate in the ritual. During the ritual, the females decided who they would mate with, and whether it was just for the night, or if they’d tie themselves to the males. If the male was accepted, then the female would shift and submit her neck to the male. It all sounded intimate, and Onessa would have asked to be a spectator if Cyr hadn’t walked out. She appreciated Delia staying behind to help her clean up the kitchen.
“A male panther will mark his mate when she chooses him. After her submission.”
Onessa had chosen Cyr. She’d said as much when they were in the shower earlier. But Cyr hadn’t accepted her. If he had, the upset at dinner would have turned out differently.
“Okay, so what do I need to do?” Onessa asked. She wanted things to progress with Cyr. It meant something to her; otherwise, what did the tattoo on her back mean? She wasn’t going to chalk it up to coincidence because, like her grandmother, she believed that everything happened
for a reason.
“Nothing, dear. If it’s meant to happen, it will happen. Cyr knows you’ve chosen him, now he needs to accept you. He will.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
“It’s his loss, and yours, too. Destiny knows her mind. She chose you for him, giving Cyriaque a second chance to find happiness. Affairs of the heart are never easy. If they were, everyone would love, chèr.”
“I understand, Delia. I didn’t realize he’d lost so much.” Onessa couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose your mate and child. She couldn’t stomach the thought of losing her parents.
“That’s Cyr, he doesn’t like to let people in. Don’t worry, he’ll come back. Once he understands you’re going to give birth to his cubs.”
Onessa dropped the plate in her hand. The sound of the dish shattering was loud in the small kitchen.
“Wait. What? Cubs? Birth? What the hell are you talking about?”
“You’re gonna have a baby girl. Two of them. I can feel it, I can smell it, too.” Delia placed her weathered hand over Onessa’s belly and smiled. “Yes, honey, two little ones. Two girls. Both shifters.
“You’re wrong. You’re dead wrong. There is no way. It’s too soon. I’m on the pill.”
“Doesn’t matter, chèr. During the breeding moon, all bets are off.”
“Breeding moon?”
“Yes, the last three days, the moon has been at her strongest. A breeding moon. It ends tonight. You’ve been having relations, and maybe Cyriaque forgot with you two being so caught up in your lust for each other that the cycle of three always cancels out anything that could stop procreation between two compatible partners. But what’s done is done. It can’t be undone.”
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