by Jory Strong
Cyrin roared from his lounging place above the doorway of the dwelling, as much of a greeting as a warning. He jumped down, barring Aryck’s path for an instant before turning and serving as a guide through the maze of rooms.
Aryck’s fingers flexed and unflexed as he heard low murmurs coming from deeper in the pride home. Jealousy built with each step as over and over again the image his father had shown him played through his mind, Rebekka in Levi’s arms, crying in joy at being reunited with the outcast.
He reached a doorway and saw her sitting cross-legged, the journal in her hands, her head bent as she studied it. The Jaguar stilled as it drank in the sight of its mate. The man grew more furious when she refused to look up, refused to acknowledge his presence even after Caius, who sat at her side with Canino serving as a backrest, yelled, “Aryck!”
He managed a smile for the cub. A polite nod to the older woman also sitting in the cozy circle. Growled, “We need to talk,” to Rebekka, the Jaguar’s calm ebbing in equal measure to the man’s rising temper at being ignored.
It was all he could do not to stalk over and jerk Rebekka to her feet, to make her look at him before he carried her out of the dwelling if she refused to go willingly.
Neither he nor the Jaguar liked the way the Lion outcast was sitting close to her. It was almost too much when Levi leaned into her and murmured, “If you want to speak privately with him, you can use my room. If you don’t, I’ll see him out.”
“Try it,” Aryck said. He’d take great satisfaction in beating Levi in a fight and clearly demonstrating to Rebekka who was the better choice.
He bared his teeth in warning and fury when she reached over and touched the outcast’s forearm. Managed not to attack only because she said, “I’ll talk to him. Between what I’ve already read to Phaedra and your grandmother, there’s not much of the journal left to share. Will you finish reading the last of it? And help Caius with his letters and words?”
Lion gold eyes sent their own challenge to Aryck. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” she said, handing him the journal and ruffling the cub’s hair before standing.
Rebekka glanced at Aryck then, and the pain in her eyes was like a lance through his heart. She turned her back and walked away without a word to him, bringing a renewed surge of anger, only this time it joined a churning mass of confusion and worry and doubt.
He had only one cure for it. The moment she stopped, signaling they’d reached their destination, his hand curled around her arm, forcing her to face him.
His lips slammed onto hers in a fierce claiming. And when she went rigid, refusing to open her mouth, he didn’t relent, didn’t let her deny the heat between them.
His hands swept over her back, her sides. Around to cup her breasts. His tongue battered at the seam of her lips, demanding entry until they parted willingly and she softened against him.
No! Rebekka screamed silently, but her body betrayed her with the desperation of a junkie getting a fix.
Despite the pain he’d caused her she grew flushed and ready, felt need coiling in her belly and sliding downward, desire filling her breasts so they thrust in invitation against his palms, chafed at the clothing separating them from the feel of his skin against hers.
When he started unbuttoning her shirt, she dredged up the image of Melina standing in the doorway of his cabin, forced herself to remember the Jaguar female’s hateful words.
“No!” Rebekka said, jerking out of Aryck’s arms and stumbling backward, away from him.
He snarled and came after her, trapping her against the smooth adobe wall. His body vibrated fury. “Forget him, Rebekka. If the Lion outcast was right for you, then the two of you would already be a mated pair. You’re mine. The Jaguar chose you the day you healed me and I agree with the choice.”
His declaration cleared Rebekka’s mind. She searched his face and saw possessiveness there.
A part of her wanted to believe it meant something, but she steeled herself against false hopes and additional betrayal. No doubt the married men who frequented the brothels looked at their wives the same way, expecting them to remain faithful even as they broke their vows.
“And Melina?” Rebekka spat, putting her hands against Aryck’s chest and pushing with all her might.
He didn’t budge.
“What about her? She means nothing to me.”
He lied. Or maybe he told the truth. Maybe he cared only about having what seemed unattainable.
The misery she’d experienced since he left her the day before returned in a rush. She battled it with a fury matching his earlier anger.
“I won’t be used by you or made part of some game of jealousy you play with Melina. She wanted me to find you bathing in the stream after you’d been with her. She—”
“What are you talking about?” Aryck interrupted, voice harsh with demand.
Fury blazed in his eyes, and his body was rigid with it. “It’s been years since I touched Melina other than to warn her away from me. I regret ever having been with her in the first place. Even then it was casual between us. If she told you otherwise, she lied.”
His hands curled around her upper arms, yet despite the iron in his grip he wasn’t hurting her. “Now tell me what you’re talking about,” he demanded again, outrage battering against her empathetic senses. Confusion. Frustration.
Was she a fool to think his emotions were genuine? To give him a chance to convince her that what she’d seen and heard was a lie?
Part of her wanted to cringe away from anything that would cause additional pain. She refused to allow it. She hadn’t cowered when Abijah caught up to her. She hadn’t taken up her mother’s faith when she learned her father was a demon.
“I went to your cabin to tell you I was leaving with the Lions. Melina was there, naked and looking like . . .”
Aryck’s eyes darkened with deadly savagery. “She must have known you were on your way there and set out to drive a wedge between us. She’s my father’s choice of a mate for me, not mine. I haven’t been to my cabin since you left me outside the alpha’s home. I’ve been gone from camp on pack business.”
Aryck leaned in, searing her with the brushing of his lips against hers. Burning away her anger and distrust by saying, “There’s been no other female for me since the moment in the Barrens when the Jaguar saw you for the first time. I tried to fight it. But now I believe we’re meant to be together. I want you as my mate.”
“Is it even possible for us to have the same bond two Weres can have?”
“Yes. On my word as a pack enforcer, it’s possible.”
His hands went to the front of her shirt, his thumbs caressing hardened nipples and sending a bolt of heat through her belly and into her woman’s folds. “Let me love you. Let me join with you.”
A lifetime of restraint fell away. She wanted to take a chance on him. On them.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Aryck covered her mouth with his before she could take back the words. He hungered, needed to make her completely and forever his.
His cock pulsed when she parted her lips without requiring persuasion this time. It strained against his soft trousers, anxious for its own greeting as her tongue rushed to rub against his in sensual welcome.
One kiss slid into another, until the need to feel skin to skin became too great to ignore. He stripped her shirt away, hands returning to her breasts and creating a different kind of hunger.
One day his children would nurse there, their creation forever binding him to Rebekka. But for now her lush feminine curves and dark, dark nipples belonged only to him.
He left the wet heat of her mouth, kissed downward to take an areola between his lips and suckle. He purred in satisfaction at her sounds of pleasure, at the feel of her hands in his hair, holding him to her.
More. All. He wanted to lick and kiss every inch of her. To mark her skin with his teeth in passion as well as in a warning to other males to stay away from her.
She trembled against him, the scent of her arousal filling his nostrils and luring him in a siren call he was powerless to resist. She tensed when he unbuttoned her pants, uncertainty and fear mingling with the heady smell of lust.
He wouldn’t let her retreat this time as she had after they left Wolf lands. This time she’d know the feel of his mouth on her, the swirl of his tongue over her clit and the thrust of it in her slit.
With a jerk he pulled her pants to her ankles. Went motionless at the sight before him.
Rebekka froze. The heat that had let her pretend everything would be all right disappearing in a flash, leaving her shaking and trying to shore up her defenses.
He knew what the tattoo meant. It was there in his sudden stillness, in the rigidness of his body.
I won’t cry, she told herself. I won’t beg him to believe me.
She couldn’t stop herself from flinching when he touched the red P. From trying to move away from him.
He stopped her with hands on her hips. Looked up at her, a feral expression on his face instead of one filled with disgust and loathing.
“No other male will ever have you again,” he said, deadly promise in his eyes. “I’ll kill anyone who attempts it.”
Her heart pounded against the wall of her chest as if attempting to break free and escape the risk of further pain. “There’s never been anyone. You’re the first I’ve ever been intimate with. The tattoo was forced on me when I was eight. Because I was in a brothel caravan in the San Joaquin and my mother was a prostitute.”
He inhaled deeply, as if he would smell the truth on her. His eyelids lowered and there was the distinct sound of masculine satisfaction in his voice as he said, “I’ll be your first. And your last.”
She was lost with the words. With his belief and acceptance. Left defenseless against the heat from his mouth as he pressed his lips to her mound, overwhelming her, making her cry tears of happiness as well as ecstasy.
She held nothing back as he lapped at her wet, swollen folds. Went willingly when he rid them both of clothing and shoes, then urged her onto the pile of furs serving as bedding. She spread her thighs for him, anxious for him to kneel between them and continue tormenting her with carnal kisses and the hot, decadent touch of his tongue.
Aryck couldn’t get enough of her. His cock was hard, slick in its readiness to be inside her. Never had a female overwhelmed his senses the way Rebekka did.
He wallowed in the scent of her, in the luscious heat between her thighs, in the wet evidence of her desire. He wanted to rub every inch of his skin against her mound so all of him smelled of her.
She was so responsive. Her cries alone were enough to have him gripping his penis to keep from spewing his seed outside of her as he had the last time they were together.
The Jaguar screamed, wanting her on her hands and knees. Demanding he cover her that way, thrust inside her with teeth clamped to the back of her neck while in human form since she had no furred one.
Aryck kissed up her body, knowing he was too close to losing control. She deserved tenderness, adoration. He should deny the Jaguar and take her first in the way a human male most often takes the woman he considers his future wife.
He couldn’t. Beast and man were too closely aligned in their desires, their needs, his two Earth-bound souls united as they’d always been until disagreement over Rebekka set them against each other.
That foolishness was done with. She was meant to be his mate. He knew it. Accepted it. Rejoiced in it.
He rose above her, rubbing his throat over her lips, growled, “Bite. Leave your mark.” And very nearly came when he felt her teeth on him.
Fever raced through him. A wildness that had him snarling and writhing, a cat caught in a sexual trap he had no desire to escape.
She released him with the lick of her tongue against his flesh and he knew only urgency. Only the primal, undeniable urge to mate.
He forced her to her hands and knees, a part of him noting her willingness, purring in pleasure at the way she readily went to her elbows and spread her thighs, presenting him with her wet, swollen vulva.
Another time he’d stop to nuzzle, to lick in approval. This time he came over her, found her opening.
In deference to her virginity, he worked his way in, one torturous inch at a time. Each one of them a test of his endurance.
She was so wet. So hot and slick.
Her channel clung to him. Tightened on him mercilessly. Resisted even as it enticed him to surge forward.
He was panting, shaking by the time he was fully seated.
And underneath him she was whimpering, trembling.
Not in pain, but with the same ecstasy rippling through him.
She rocked backward, urging him to begin moving, and he was helpless against the feminine command. His fingers found her clit, rubbed over it as his hips thrust. Thrust again. And again. Not giving in to the Jaguar’s need to mark her until after she screamed in release and he followed, pumping through the hot, wet evidence of her pleasure and filling her with his seed.
Shivers of pleasure ran the length of Rebekka’s body in the aftermath of lovemaking. Her channel clenched in protest as Aryck’s cock left it, but her emotions soared when he repositioned them on the furs so they lay facing each other, limbs entangled.
She traced the flow of muscles along his upper arm. It felt so good to be held by him, to feel the press of his chest against her breasts and the warmth of his penis nestled in the juncture of her thighs.
Her clit pulsed like a softened heartbeat where it touched smooth foreskin, and his subtle rubbing against it sent sparks of renewed desire through her. She understood now the lure of sex, what brought men and women to the brothels even if their money didn’t buy them true intimacy.
A blush slid upward and blossomed across her cheeks as she became aware of voices. Unlike the Jaguar camp, there was no privacy to be found among Lions. The open windows and doorways meant the sounds of passion carried throughout the dwelling as well as beyond it.
Aryck’s rumbled laugh made her blush deepen. He stroked her cheek, his teeth flashing white in amusement. “Embarrassed? How can you be after growing up among prostitutes?”
“This is not the same. This matters.”
“I’m glad,” he said, taking her mouth in a series of slow kisses that filled her with pleasure, making her labia swell and part in readiness for him.
Her hand slid down his side, then between their bodies. Seeking him out. Finding him. Her fingers curling around his hardening cock.
This time his laugh held rising desire and purring anticipation. He nibbled at her lips, whispered against them, “Coupling is not something cats feel any shame in doing, or in being seen doing. But I’ll admit, I don’t have the necessary control at the moment to allow any other male to watch us together and fantasize about having you.”
She brushed her thumb over the head of his penis. His buttocks flexed and his hips gave a quick thrust. Levity gave way to intensity of expression as he rolled, flattening her back against the soft fur.
Her thighs splayed voluntarily, hips canting to make it easier for him to fill her. But when she would have guided him to her opening, he stilled and gave a low, threatening growl.
It took an instant to hear what he heard. She guessed whoever approached was purposely making enough noise to alert a human.
The footfalls stopped just beyond the doorway. Levi said, “There’s a sick Lion, Rebekka. My grandmother would like you to accompany her to the boy’s home. After what happened to the Wolves, the pride is wary.”
With lithe grace Aryck got to his feet. Rebekka followed, blushing again when his semen escaped her slit and further marked the insides of her thighs with his scent.
He leaned in, teeth clamping down on her shoulder. Biting her then soothing the tiny pain with the caress of his tongue.
He collected his pants and stepped into them. She gathered her clothing and quickly dressed, toeing on her shoes at the doo
rway, then stepping out of the room.
Levi’s expression was neutral, but she knew him too well not to see his worry, feel it. Some of her happiness fell away with the realization that in two days he would have to return to Oakland. With or without her.
Aryck’s hand curled possessively around her arm. Her eyes met his and a pang went through her heart as she wondered what lay ahead for them.
Magena waited near the dwelling entranceway. “It’s best you remain inside,” she told Levi.
He handed the journal to Rebekka. She slid it into her pocket and followed the Lion healer outside.
In tiger form, Caius bounded over to Rebekka. He stood on hind legs, powerful front limbs wrapping around her waist and nearly knocking her over with the exuberance of his greeting. She gave him a quick hug and he dropped to all four paws, padding back to Canino.
“This way,” Magena said, turning to the left.
Rebekka had thought there were a lot of Lions present when she arrived; now it looked as though their numbers had tripled in the time she’d been there. A great number of them were agitated.
They paced, filling the late afternoon with the sounds of their roars. What cubs she saw were gathered and contained in circles of adult females who made it clear with teeth and claws they wouldn’t let even the most energetic of their charges leave.
All but Magena wore fur. Rebekka understood why Levi’s grandmother had directed him to remain in his family’s home.
From somewhere in the mistletoe-laden oak forest that started where the eucalyptus grove ended, a burst of giggling came, high-pitched and eerie. It was followed by grunted laughter and the telltale whooping of hyenas.
It made the hair stand on the back of Rebekka’s neck. Her heart raced in trepidation and dread built with each step.
Several Lions charged in the direction of the noise, more for show than with the intent of entering the forest. They stopped after going little more than a hundred feet, paced and roared in warning, gouged the trees with the rake of their claws before turning and padding back to the clustered dwellings.
