Leap of the Lion

by Cherise Sinclair

  Darcy squirmed under him in an unspoken demand that he move. Her body wanted a cock.

  He grinned. This pushy little kit would probably walk all over younger, less knowledgeable males—and coerce them to fuck her immediately.

  Unfortunately for her, she only had very experienced males tonight. She wouldn’t be getting any slam-bam-thank-you-ma’am quickies. Mature males preferred to savor their matings.

  How soft she was. He ran his knuckles along the underside of her breast, feeling the tender skin, hearing her shaking inhalation, seeing her dusky nipple pucker to a rigid peak.

  She tasted of female musk and the mint that Donal had found growing along the stream. The healer knew his herbs.

  A shame Darcy was so new. If she were more experienced, Tynan and Donal would have taken her together, extending their time, and pleasing them all.

  Ah, well.

  Ever so slowly, Tynan kissed his way down her body, smiling at the way her belly quivered under his lips. He wouldn’t stop until he had her entire body trembling and her cries became incoherent.

  And then he’d take her and satisfy them both.

  *

  After her third mating of the night, Darcy’s legs had turned to jelly. When she tried to stand, Tynan had to grab her or she’d have crumbled right then and there. She felt her face redden with her flush. “Sorry.”

  “No need to apologize, lass.” He scooped her up and carried her to the stream to wash off.

  Setting her on her feet in the water, he held her up with an arm around her waist. As the shallow creek flowed around her calves, she was still so overheated it was surprising the icy water didn’t start to steam.

  A cougar padded out of the bushes, and Owen’s scent reached her a second before he shifted to human. “I think you could use some help.”

  “I could, it is true.” Tynan moved to stand behind her, wrapped both arms around her waist, and held her against his warm body.

  Owen stepped into the stream and went down on a knee in front of her.

  She frowned. “I thought you were mad at me.”

  “I was.” His deep voice was as rugged as the surrounding mountains. “You screwed up. But so did I. I should’ve realized you didn’t know the dangers. And that you were acting on your concern for others. Can you accept my apology?”

  Shocked, she stared down at him.

  In the moonlight, his hair appeared as dark as her own, and beard growth shadowed his jaw. Even down on one knee, the rough, deadly cahir was so tall his head came level with her shoulders.

  And he wanted her to forgive him. She hadn’t lost him for a friend. Relief made her voice shake. “Accepted.”

  Tynan handed him a handful of the leaves plucked from the banks, and Owen ran the soft bundle over her body, releasing the scent of mint. When he cleansed between her legs, ever so gently, the mint added a tingle to the coolness of the water against her swollen, sore flesh. She sucked in a breath.

  “Sorry, kitten,” he murmured, not stopping until he was satisfied.

  He rose. “Let’s go back to the fire and give you a chance to warm up.”

  Tynan scooped her up, kissed the top of her head, and, to her surprise, handed her to Owen. “Her legs are getting wobbly.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  Darcy stiffened. “I’m sure I can walk now.” Surely, the cahir didn’t want to lug her around.

  He didn’t put her down. His arms were thick with muscle, and he carried her easily, holding her so close his body warmed her.

  At the fire, Donal and Gawain moved aside, making a space for Owen to set her down.

  As she curled her legs to one side in the soft grass, he sat behind her. Right behind her. His chest pressed against her back, and his long legs bracketed her sides and thighs. With the fire in front and Owen behind, she felt toasty warm.

  And oddly happy.

  The wind was a light breeze against her body. The fire crackled cheerfully, and a salamander was dancing in the flames. Its tail sent a spiral of pretty sparks upward into the black sky.

  With a sigh, Darcy leaned back, and Owen’s arms came around her waist.

  And she felt his cock thickening against her buttocks. She tensed and tried to…un­obtrusive­ly…scoot away.

  With a huffed laugh, he pulled her more firmly against him. “Little cat, a male rises if he gets even a whiff of interest from a female. Doesn’t mean anything will come of it.”

  “No?”

  “No, you’re not ready for anything at all right now. If and when your need returns, you make a choice again—and you may or may not want me. Just relax and let me keep you warm.” His gravelly tone held no room for argument.

  In all reality, she was so tired all she really wanted was to be held.

  Only…

  “Do you even like me?” she asked, whispering the pitiful question.

  Owen’s muscles tensed as if she’d slapped him. “Darcy, I—”

  “Never mind.” Blinking back unexpected tears, she looked down, feeling more alone than ever before, even in captivity. Wasn’t it horrible that sometimes she missed the lack of change she’d had in the prìosan. Maybe she’d never have discovered how many other kinds of pain were in the world.

  No, she was being childish. Foolish. Her thinking was messed up by all the needs rioting through her system. The males were probably laughing at how naïve she was.

  Biting her lip, she studied the scuffed-up dirt around the fire…and wanted to scream. Heat was already rising within her, and she did want Owen. She always had.

  She’d just hoped that he liked her…a bit. She didn’t want to be with someone—even him—if she disgusted him. Would his body, his own needs, make him mate with her even if he hated her?

  The thought made her want to throw up. “This is awful.”

  “Let me ex—”

  “Maybe I don’t like you either.”

  Owen leaned forward so his cheek rested on hers and his unshaven chin scratched her shoulder. “Listen to me, little cat. Even with a full moon heat, if a female dislikes a potential partner, she doesn’t get aroused. Your body and mind must agree.”

  “But I would never have mated”—she shook her head—“so many males.”

  “Mmm, numbers are irrelevant. Right now, the only question in your body and mind is: Is this male worthy of a child of my body? Do I want to carry a cub from this male?”

  “Oh.” Truly, that was an entirely different matter. Against the rising haze of need, Darcy looked around at the males.

  Donal, the healer, whose knowledgeable touch had roused her completely—and who had been so very kind.

  Tynan, who saw things in black and white, and fought for what was right. He had been slow and incredibly, sexily thorough.

  Gawain, called by the Goddess, was like the blades he made, sparkling silver over a steel core. He’d made her first mating something beautiful.

  She would be proud to carry a child from any of them.

  Then there was Owen.

  Her body was filling her with need already. With each brush of his hands against her skin, she smoldered with the desire to have him cup her breasts. To kiss her.

  The cahir had rescued her from the Scythe in Seattle. Had come after her here in the forest. Would protect her with everything in his power. He was blunt and bossy and…would never lie to her.

  Yes, she would love to carry his cub.

  When she tried to push to her feet, he rose and helped her up. Silently, he waited, leaving the choice to her—and she knew this was the difference between humans and the Daonain. A Daonain female couldn’t control coming into heat, but the decision regarding who she would mate with was all hers.

  She extended her hand and held her breath. Would he want to be with her? Truly?

  His dark wicked eyebrows were drawn together, making him look harsh, yet the corner of his mouth tipped up. A second later, his big hand engulfed hers in warmth.

  In the tiny mating clearing, the
moon danced on the edge of the trees. The light wouldn’t last long, and wasn’t that a shame; Owen wanted to see the little female. It had been a long time since he’d truly enjoyed mating. But Darcy was special. Being with the little cat was…different…some­how.

  He laid her down on the soft meadow grass and stretched out beside her, propping his head up on his hand. “You asked me a question.”

  “I noticed you didn’t answer.” In the moonlight, her eyes were liquid pools of night. “You told me a female wouldn’t mate someone she disliked. But I bet males are different.”

  Did she have any idea how appealing her clever mind was? “’Tis true males are less discriminating. He can mate someone he doesn’t particularly favor. In a way, we see it as our duty to the race.”

  Her tiny sniff said she knew this would be the fact.

  He grinned. “However, there is a wide gap between like and dislike. No male can rise for a female he hates.”

  Her soft lips formed an O.

  He ran the back of his knuckles over her softly curved cheek, feeling the increasing warmth. As he moved down, he found the pulse in her neck was delightfully rapid. Her collarbone gave him a path to her sternum and down to rest between her breasts.

  She was holding her breath.

  He gave her the honesty she’d asked for. “I like you, Darcy.”

  At the release of her held breath, he smiled despite the ache in his chest. He was an ill-tempered weasel for making her doubt her appeal.

  Awkwardly, he gave her the rest of the truth she was owed. “I was…poorly treated…as a cub and somehow figured all females were manipulative and self-centered. Since I’m gnome-stupid, it took me this long to realize not all females are the same.”

  Her expression held compassion, and she stroked his shoulder in a way he enjoyed all too well. “I’m sorry you had such a rough time, and your mother was so cruel.”

  She knew about his mother. By the God, the females had been gossiping about him. He started to pull back, then closed his eyes and wanted to groan. Aye, he was an idiot.

  “Even knowing better, I keep seeing females as the enemy.” He laid his palm on the side of her face. “Please grab me by the tail and yank if you see me fall into the trap.”

  Her lips curved. “Now there’s a nice invitation.”

  He knew this female had the courage to tell him when he was messing up.

  And now…after all the unkind words he’d given her, he owed her the good ones, as well. He stroked a finger over her lips. “I like your honesty—how you come right out and say what you want, what you’re feeling.”

  Her startled look was a delight.

  He trailed a finger down her pointed…stub­born…chin. “I like that you don’t cave in, and you have the courage to do what you think needs to be done.” He snorted. “Although the Cosantir might not be as appreciative.”

  Before she could overthink his warning, he took her hand, kissing the callused fingers. “I like your talent with those human devices. Your delight in making something work reminds me of Gawain’s pleasure in a finely crafted blade.”

  Whether with tools or lives, this little tinker tried to fix whatever was broken.

  Ah, the smile had reached her eyes.

  He put his hand between her lovely breasts. “Perhaps more than anything, I like your loyalty to your villagers and your brothers. Even when you’re afraid, you press on.”

  Her lips were soft under his, and he took his fill before lifting his head long enough to whisper, “Yeah, I like you, Darcy.”

  And he wanted her with a need that throbbed through him from his paws to his whiskers. His balls ached as if a gnome was squeezing them.

  Still… He was going to take his time and enjoy every second he had with her. He kissed her cheek and nibbled on her jaw, under her ear, and down. The hollow at the base of her neck held her scent, the fresh green of oak moss after spring showers. He tasted between her small breasts, kissed the undersides, and licked over the puckered nipples.

  She gasped, and her back arched up.

  Nice. He could spend some time here. He licked around one nipple, then closed his lips around the peak and sucked. Nibbled, sucked.

  Under his hand, her heart was beating violently against her sternum. Her moan made him smile.

  He fondled her beautifully formed breasts, enjoying the firmness and the softness, feeling them swell until the skin was tight and the nipples long and pointed.

  “Please. Please, Owen, I need more.” She tugged on his hair, interrupting his play, and reminding him of his duty. In the moonlight, her dark eyes met his straightforwardly.

  And he realized this one night wasn’t going to be enough for him. He hadn’t lied to her…he did like her, and he would want her even when the moon wasn’t full. It might be fun to mate a female not influenced by the full moon heat. A female—this female. “All right, little cat.”

  “I’m not little, damn it.”

  His lips twitched. Fuck, she was cute. “No, you’re definitely full grown.” And he would thank the Mother for the gift of her. “And I’ll give you more.”

  But, rather than impaling her on his cock as she’d obviously hoped, he moved down. As he licked her belly, he was pleased to see her ribs were now hidden under beautifully soft flesh. When he rubbed his chin on the crease between her thigh and pelvis, she inhaled sharply, and her hips started to rise.

  “Oh, none of that now,” he murmured, breathing her in. Her fragrance here was richer, more sensual, redolent with her excitement. Under his hands, she was almost quivering. “You’ll have more fun if we take our time.”

  “You-you dumb dumbass, I don’t want to go slow. Take me, dammit.” Her voice—he did love her sultry voice. Instead of her tone rising to shrill, her cute demands were even more throaty than usual. The smoky sound laced around his heart.

  He ran his hands up and down her legs before settling between her soft thighs. “I will. When I’m ready.” Smiling, he teased his tongue over her pussy, savoring the musky taste of her—and silencing her completely.

  Her hips squirmed enough that he ruthlessly pinned her down. Wasn’t it nice his cahir’s hands were so big he could hold her in place as well as use his thumbs to part her folds?

  The moonlight showed the sweet nub of nerves was swollen and ready for his tongue. He puffed a warm breath over it—and she jolted upward. She’d need a light touch.

  Using just the tip of his tongue, he teased around the nub, wanting to bring his fingers into play, as well. However, new to mating, she would be tender inside.

  Instead, he’d tease her in a different area.

  Mother of All, every drag of Owen’s tongue sent her higher. Oh, she needed more, wanted him to take her.

  But his hands mercilessly pinned her hips to the ground, and she couldn’t even move as he teased her to the brink, then slowed, then teased her to the edge again.

  Her clit was impossibly sensitive and so swollen it throbbed. Nothing had ever felt so good, if only he’d let her come. Why didn’t he let her come? Just a tiny extra…

  He moved a hand down and her breath caught as she waited for him to touch her pussy, to enter her. His hand slid lower, and he slid a finger between her buttocks.

  She stiffened. “What…?” She felt his finger circle her anus. “Not there.”

  His lips closed around her clit—and his laugh vibrated through the exquisitely sensitive nub until nothing else registered. Then his finger moved again right there, engulfing her in strange tingling sensations that somehow only added to what she felt from the front.

  He licked around her clit, and his finger circled back there, and a clawing need rolled through her in an entirely new way. Oh, oh, oh.

  As he sucked in teasing pulls on her clit, the pressure at her core increased until she trembled on the precipice. Every nerve in her lower half was awake and needy.

  His finger breached the tiny rim of anal muscles.

  Oh my Gods! The shocking sensation flu
ng her right off the precipice into a molten lake of pleasure. Wave after wave of sensation surged through her, flooding her from toes to scalp until everything in her body simmered with satisfaction.

  “Ah, now, what a nice reaction.” Like a cougar setting a giant paw on a cub, he held her down with a hand on her pelvis and studied her with intent eyes. He licked over her clit and watched her as she shivered. Licked again.

  “It’ll do for the moment. Come here.” Lying down beside her, he pulled her over his body as if she were a blanket.

  Her head spun for a second. She was on top. Of Owen. His body was a furnace beneath her and so, so hard.

  Freed of the full moon need—for a minute or two—she propped herself up with her forearms on his chest. She had questions.

  Owen smiled as the soft waves of her hair spilled over him in a black wave, cool against his skin.

  She frowned at him. “You touched me…behind. It felt so strange.”

  Inexperienced. Embarrassed. Yet so refreshingly straightforward. Fuck, he really did like her. Reaching up, he gathered her silky hair and rearranged it down her back, letting the last of the moonlight illuminate her face. “I did. You’re undoubtedly getting sore, so I used the other hole.” He paused and decided to be equally honest. “When shifters share a female, they often use both holes. I wanted to see if anal sex was something you might eventually enjoy.”

  “Share a female?” The moonlight showed her cheeks darkening with a flush. “Sex with…” She shook her head, muttering to herself. “Of course they would. Don’t be a stupid tinker.”

  “You’re not stupid, little cat.” He combed his fingers through her hair, releasing the lingering scent of her shampoo. “Far from it. Did you think you would learn all about the Daonain in a month?”

  Her exasperated grumble made him grin.

  “You don’t smile enough,” she murmured, running her fingers over his lips, tracing the lines beside his mouth. “So, what you’re saying, brothers mate a female at the same time. Do only lifemates do that?”

  “Anyone. If the littermates want and the female agrees. Most littermates believe enjoying a female together makes a mating more special.”

  “I thought you and your brother had been apart since you were teenagers. How do you know?”