"I felt claustrophobic without you here.” Slow strides brought her closer. Wyatt's heartbeat thundered in his ears. He damned the jeans and T-shirt that kept him from seeing her body. “I wanted to know the instant you were back."
He pulled the samples from his pocket and placed them on the end table nearest him.
"You get everything you were looking for?” she asked, closing the final distance between them.
Wyatt's arm hairs lifted. Her heat bathed him in red-gold.
"Yes, I did, except for the patio.” He wrapped his hand around her hip. The muscle flexed and rippled beneath his fingers.
"I burn. Inside.” Sharp nails raked up his torso, her claws beginning to extend. His nipples beaded, drawing her attention. Trina licked her lips. Her “mmmm” threatened to yank the cum out of him.
"I know. I feel it, too. Deep inside me."
"Our inner cat?” She glanced up at him under her heavy lashes.
"Yes,” he hissed. God, she had him dripping with want. “Endorphins. It needs endorphins. Sex. Pain. The rush of—"
"Life?"
"Yes."
Her fingernails elongated to points. As she glanced at them, the most delicious smile curved her lips. It was all he could do not to fall to his knees before her; her slave to do whatever she wished.
Trina snagged the cotton over his nipple and ever-so-slowly ripped down to the hem. The sound opened a portal in his heart, and Trina stepped through. Wyatt's balls crawled up, desperate to be near the nipple her breath caressed. He danced his hand up her spine to the base of her neck until his fingers met silk. Before he could dive into the depths of her hair, a raspy tongue licked over his nipple.
Wyatt's knees buckled. God, her cat tongue! Trina cupped his crotch. Pinpricks encircled his balls through the denim. He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.
"That's how I feel when you touch me.” She rolled his nipple between her teeth. Electric shocks zinged through his body. Her hand still clamped around his testicles, Trina guided him to the sofa and gently pushed him off balance.
"Unzip."
Wyatt tried not to chuckle. His fingers were already at the tab when she issued her order.
Her cat tongue rasped over his skin. Pleasure-pain hardened his cock to granite. His balls were already stones in her hand. He forced the zipper open a tooth at a time, afraid going faster would catch a part of his anatomy he'd rather remain uninjured. No matter how quickly he healed, it was his manhood, after all.
Trina groomed his chest hair with long licks. He wondered if she even realized what she was doing. If she even was aware she was beginning to shift into cat form. If she knew she had him by the balls ... literally. And he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so turned-on.
"Careful,” his voice trembled a little, “you'll get a hair ball."
Trina glanced up. Deep blue eyes took his breath away. Her sultry smile refused to let him take it back. “That was my intention."
She traced those sharp claws—how could he call them anything else?—along the edge of his waistband. Zipper parted, his erection thrust up through the opening in his boxers. Trina stared it in the eye, tongue moistening her lips. God, if she raked that over him now...
She kissed the tip, sucking the precum away. Wyatt cried out and thrust up, wanting anything and everything she could do to him.
Grabbing each side of his waistband, she yanked the jeans and boxers down. Wyatt jerked his legs free and tried to grab her head. Trina dodged his efforts. She flung his jeans aside. Her clothing was next, hurled on top of his with a flick of her wrist.
She knelt at his feet, cupped his calves, and danced her hard nipples up and down his legs. His cock bobbed in time. Precum trickled from the slit. Trina licked her lips, doubling his predicament. She shoved her face between his knees, nudging them further apart.
Wyatt tensed, fearing yet anticipating that rough tongue against his skin. Her breath raised goose bumps all over his body. Her smile at the sight only created more. Trina brushed her cheek over his thigh, ran her fingers up his inner thighs, then traced his sac with one claw. Breath held, Wyatt froze.
Sky blue cat eyes now looked up at him through long, dark lashes. She licked her moist lips and glanced to the erection thrust between them, down to the testicles perched on the edge of her claw. Confusion momentarily shadowed her face, then disappeared with her purr.
Wyatt spread his thighs wider. Trina inhaled, then nuzzled her face against his crotch. He groaned and pushed his hips up. Her low rumble of approval vibrated over his sac. She rubbed her nose between his balls, bit his scrotum with her lips, brushed her nipples over his hips.
He clutched her head in a desperate attempt to get her mouth over his cock. Sharp claws stung his flesh.
"I think someone needs fucking,” she purred, and aimed that deadly finger at his anus. Blue eyes glanced up to him. “Afraid?"
"Yes,” he whispered.
"Odd, when I trust you with my body."
She had a point, but Wyatt knew how to control his shifting. Trina didn't. He knew the dangers, bore the scars because he'd ignored them before, and yet here he was, daring again. The adrenaline rush was addictive.
Gazes locked, Trina bent her finger and wedged the joint into his anus. Wyatt arched into a gasp. She clamped her lips over the underridge of his cock and nibbled her way to the crown. She squeezed her fist around the base, thumb rubbing maddening circles just above his sac. She pushed her knuckle in.
She teased him with the promise of her lips, the threat of her tongue, over his cockhead. Wyatt gasped each time her breath washed over him. She released his penis and feathered her fingers through the hair traveling up his torso.
"This is where Ka-ra marked you as hers.” Trina traced the three parallel scars.
"I ... I learned then to never get too close to a female in the throes of heat."
Her lips curled into a half smile. “You obviously didn't learn it very well."
A second knuckle joined the first in his ass. The tips of her sharp claws kissed his sac.
"You could easily overpower me.” She burrowed her nose in his body hair and kissed the scars.
"Not before you castrate me,” he managed to say.
Her sexy chuckle rumbled through him. Trina wiggled upward until her breasts cradled his dick.
"God, woman!” He cupped her breasts and squeezed them tighter around him. “God! Suck it, Trina! Suck it!"
"Soon,” she whispered over the swollen head.
Wyatt thrust up, desperate for her lips around it. She corkscrewed her knuckles in his hole, her claws by his dick reminding him she was in charge. At that point, he wasn't sure if he gave a damn as long as she made him come.
She moistened her lips, then closed them over the slit at the head of his cock and sucked off the pearly drop.
Wyatt's eyes rolled back in his head with the groan that exploded from his throat. He stabbed for her mouth.
"Anxious, aren't we?” She dodged his efforts and slid down.
Wyatt beat his fists into the cushions. “Damn it, Trina, you're killing me."
"Mmmm ... and here I thought I was feeding the cat inside you."
He stared down at her through a red haze of lust. “Be careful of what you unleash, love."
"Hmmm..."
Her gaze followed a slow, agonizing path up and then down his erection. She pressed her lips together. Her pink tongue parted them. His anus clenched around the knuckles wedged there. Precum dribbled from his cock. In seemingly slow motion, Trina aimed for him, her breath tickling his pubic hair and raising goose bumps on every millimeter of his body, inside and out.
She nuzzled against his balls. Wyatt heard her intake of breath—hell, he felt it. It made his balls want to crawl inside her mouth. He jerked when her tongue looped around one, quivering at the sandpaper feel against the most vulnerable part of his body. Then she licked a groan right out of him.
Wyatt widened his legs as far as they could
go. The urge to pull his knees to his chest and let her have at it was overwhelming. He lay there at her mercy while Trina finger-fucked his ass and groomed his balls.
"God,” he gasped. “It hurts so good."
She flashed her nose over the base of his dick. Licked up the throbbing ridge to the crown. Popped her lips over the head. And sucked him down her throat.
Wyatt clamped his hand over her head, nailing her in place while cum shot from him in thick, hot jets he swore gave him third-degree burns. She swallowed it all, then kneaded the last drops from his rapidly deflating cock while he panted for breath and melted into the sofa.
Trina dotted kisses over his pelvis, his thighs, his stomach, idly combing her fingers through his body hair while Wyatt came back to earth. He brushed her hair away from her face, silently urging her onto his lap. Trina didn't hesitate. She crawled astride him, nestling her hot, wet pussy over his cock. Blood engorged it once more.
"Nice.” She wiggled until his erection was cradled between her labia. “You recover quickly."
Wyatt grinned and thumbed her hard nipples. “You give me great incentive to do so.” He dusted his fingers down her belly.
She grabbed his hand before he could reach her clit. “Uh-uh, feed me."
She swung from his lap, tugged him to his feet, and led him toward her bedroom. With every step she took, something changed about her. More spots appeared, engulfing her torso and spreading over her arms and legs. Strands of white streaked her long dark hair.
Wyatt pulled her to a stop when he saw the flogger draped over the foot of the bed. Pillows were piled high in the center, pantyhose knotted the four corners. Not a good choice for binding. It was fine for minor play, but not for what Trina needed tonight.
She wiggled her fingers into his chest hair. “I need this, Wyatt."
He stared into her blue eyes. Not a trace of their original brown remained. “It's too risky, Trina, on many levels. Endorphins will flood your system. Look at yourself. Look in the mirror. You're starting the shift. I'm afraid if this isn't done right, one or both of us could die."
"If I'm changing, then I could die anyway if someone more experienced doesn't have control of me. Right?"
He acquiesced with a silent nod.
She nuzzled close. “I'm not unaware, El-ian,” she whispered. “I see the changes in me. I feel them. Please, I need this. I need proof I'm not insane like my mother. I need to know that what I'm seeing is real, not a figment of my imagination."
He wrapped his arms around her. It didn't surprise him to feel the downy fur along her spine. “It's real, sweetheart. It's very real."
"Then show me."
"Not here.” Her safety was paramount. “Your setup isn't safe, Trina. The ceremony is intense. Pantyhose could cut off your circulation, and it will never hold you during the shift. You need to be contained while the initial confusion passes. And this isn't a quiet process. Your neighbors are all eyes and ears right now. What do you think they'll do if they hear us? What do you think Leon would do if he burst in and saw a jaguar bound to your bed or roaming your house?"
She sagged in his arms. “I need, Wyatt.” She whimpered. “I need."
He understood the feeling well. The cat in her craved endorphins for the shift. If he didn't help her get them, she'd hunt for them elsewhere.
"And I'll take care of that need, love. Come.” He took her hand and beckoned her into the bedroom. “Trust me. I promise I'll take care of you, keep you safe."
* * * *
Need clawed at Trina's gut. Letting someone else have control now was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. Logically, everything he'd said made good sense. Telling that to the hunger inside wasn't so easy. Now she knew how drug addicts felt. She dredged determination from the depths of her soul and clutched the lifeline Wyatt's hand offered.
When they reached her bed, he draped her on it, treating her with the same care he'd give the finest silk. She stretched into the soft mattress, feeling the shift of muscles just beneath her skin. Shouldn't it hurt more? She was, after all, changing from one species to another. Yet, she never noticed any hint of pain from the clan. Did they feel the hunger clawing at them, too, or did that dissipate with maturity?
Fear and curiosity warred with each other. Lust for Wyatt overrode them both. If she sat up, what changes would she see reflected in the dresser mirror?
Some things are best not known when you're trying for control. Trina didn't question where the inner voice came from. She merely accepted the advice and kept her gaze locked on Wyatt, her anchor in whatever reality existed. She wasn't sure if she could accept watching herself change from human to cat anyway.
Her heartbeat tripled when Wyatt picked up the flogger. How many times had she used that on herself? Too many to count. In the privacy of her home, Trina could indulge in a desire she'd never voiced to another person. A desire Wyatt instinctively knew she possessed.
How was it possible they could be so in sync?
He tickled the chamois-soft leather up her legs. Trina parted her thighs, and he brushed the strands over her pussy. Her clit peeked from its hood, wanting more. With his free hand, Wyatt spread her labia and gave her clit a small taste of what it wanted.
Trina gasped at the gentle tap. It felt like a bolt of lightning. Wyatt released her and continued up, brushing the lengths over her body, between her breasts, around and around her nipples. They were hard before he'd ever touched them; now they were close to bursting.
Wyatt nestled the handle in the valley between her breasts and fanned the leather strands over her stomach. Hands braced on either side of her, he bent forward and pulled one taut nipple between his lips. Trina gasped and lifted to him. He rolled the beaded flesh into his mouth, then swabbed it with his tongue. Nothing more, nothing less.
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and watched him move toward the other nipple. He glanced up, stealing her breath once more before he looped his tongue over it. Too soon he moved away.
Her gaze tracked him while he removed the pantyhose, rolled them into balls, and placed them on the dresser. He was so gorgeous to look at, so perfect. Trina could stare at him for days and not get her fill. The sweep of muscles down his back. The divots in his butt cheeks. He turned around. That path of dark hair pointing downward to the springboard of his erection. He made her mouth water, her pussy weep.
Her heat leaped when he returned to the foot of the bed. She expected him to climb on, literally. Instead, he cupped her foot and massaged his thumbs over it. Muscles Trina didn't know she had crumbled in submission.
"I'm glad you're not ticklish.” His voice felt like a kiss all its own.
"Mmm, so am I.” Trina gave a lazy stretch and nudged her other foot his way.
Wyatt didn't hesitate. Easing the left foot to the mattress, he cupped her right and slowly rubbed her arch, ankle, and then back down to her toes, pressing on the ball of each before gliding over her arch and back to her heel.
She let out a little squeak when his lips touched her ankle, then giggled at herself. Wyatt's soft chuckle echoed, melting her all the more.
"I bet I know where you're going,” she singsonged.
"I bet you're right. And I'm going to take my time getting there, too."
And he did. He licked and nibbled a little way up one leg, then moved to the other to catch up. Each time Trina spread herself a little wider. Her arousal floated on the air, her not-so-quiet moans filled the room. Every so often his joined hers. Climax coiled in her clitoris, but the rest of her body had never felt more relaxed.
Then he kissed her ... right where she needed it most. Trina gasped. A little suck ... and the orgasm rolled out of her and into him. He licked through the valleys of her labia, bringing her down from orgasm as sweetly as he'd lifted her up. When she settled, his body covered hers.
He entered her in a slow, deep glide. Plunged the head of his cock against her womb ... and came. She wrapped her arms around him, rubbing circles on his bac
k while he shuddered with the impact of his release.
"Yes,” she whispered. “You were right. That was exactly what I needed."
"Me, too.” He brushed his fingers over her cheek and kissed her.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Nine
Never in her wildest imagination did Trina think she'd ever return to the Prentice estate. Once was enough, and she'd only come then out of curiosity and the promise of a “once in a lifetime adventure.” At least, Liam Prentice hadn't lied; he just never intended for any of the people on his Yucatán expedition to live long enough to enjoy the fruits of their labor.
Trina remembered the day she and Jeremy Gibson had driven up the winding hill to the mansion perched on top. The Prentice home was built to resemble an old rancho. But there was more to the place than apparent from the bottom of the hill. Things Trina and her colleagues should have taken as warnings. Evil, disguised in a beautiful, oh-so-tempting package.
She laughed to herself. They'd been on their guard once they saw the Prentices’ architectural nod to the Maya throughout the home. But Liam Prentice had researched the invited archaeologists well. He'd truly made them offers they couldn't refuse. Two members of their team lost their lives, as had Liam and Viola Prentice, the skinwalkers. Those who remained alive reaped the benefits the Prentices promised them. For Trina, that meant nightmares in addition to the million dollars the Prentices had given her.
I should have asked for two million. I could have done a lot of good with two million. But Trina had thought Prentice was bullshitting at the time. She never imagined the man would call her bluff. At first, the money felt tainted. Even now, thinking about it left a hollow feeling inside. But Trina wasn't foolish. She tucked away a safety net and used the rest to surreptitiously help others ... like Mrs. Wallace.
"I remember how impressed I was the first time I saw this place.” She brushed a chill from her arms. “Now it just gives me the creeps."
"I know what you mean. It gave me the creeps, too. One of the first things we did when we were given the place was deactivate Prentice's little show in the atrium. It no longer resembles his cenote lair."
Into the Night [Into the Heart 2] Page 12
