Predator's Kiss (Gemini Island Shifters, Book 1)

by Rosanna Leo

  His breath seemed to catch just like hers as he grew more and more stunned with her every admission. “You must be dying inside.”

  She let out a pathetic laugh. “I guess that’s why I poured myself into my writing. People think Love in Chains is a sexy book. Wait until they read the next one!” She bit her lip and sighed. “It’s not so bad.” She averted her eyes. “But it got worse recently.”

  Ryland seized on her words. “Recently, when?”

  Lia gulped, sure she was on fire, hoping her saliva would douse the flames inside her. “When I got to this lodge.” She took a breath. “And it ain’t easy right now in this room.”

  Ryland got up from his spot on the bed and walked around the table, coming to stand in front of her. His face was twisted by what looked suspiciously like desire. “Did you like being kissed … by me?”

  She blinked at him. “More than you know.”

  “Oh, I know, Lia,” he said. “It was the same for me.”

  She felt the heat of a red rose blush spring into her cheeks, and grew delirious as its sinful warmth trailed down toward the top of her chest. The same chest now rising and falling with her very labored breaths. “If only…”

  Ryland stepped closer, too close for comfort, but she didn’t dare push him away this time. Didn’t want to push him away. “What do you need? I’ll do it for you.”

  “I just … you’re so…” Her head fell back and she groaned. “Dammit! I just want to come! Just once! It’s been so long.” She exhaled. “I just want to feel like a regular woman.”

  Ryland set his jaw, determined. Clearly, her passionate plea was all he’d needed to hear. He pulled Lia to him and she didn’t resist. From somewhere deep in his chest, she heard a low reverberating growl. Gently, slowly, he pulled the T-shirt over her head and then eased her silky boxers over her hips and ass. He watched her eyes widen as he let the clothing fall to the floor. And then he pulled her to the floor with him. He remained on his knees and moved her into a kneeling position. He leaned over and kissed her softly on the neck.

  Just that tiny kiss started her trembling. What would happen if…?

  Not if. When.

  He positioned her so that she was facing away from him. “Relax, baby,” he whispered over her shoulder. “Let me take care of you.”

  And then Lia did her best not to collapse on the floor in a great, wet puddle of desire.

  Chapter 9

  Lia shuddered. What was she doing, letting Ryland touch her like this? But as that thought pierced her consciousness, another took its place, affirming she’d wanted nothing else since she first saw him. She abandoned whatever common sense she possessed, and just gave in.

  He put his hands on her naked body. It was just one pair of hands touching her, but it felt like fifty, it was so good. So sensual. Leagues better than even the most realistic of her very many sex dreams.

  Years of sex-filled dreams that never reached any sort of culmination because of her failed relationships, and she’d never had as good a moment as Ryland’s hands upon her flesh. And he’d barely touched her.

  Ryland turned her face toward his, brushing his fingers along her jawline, and swept his tongue into her open mouth. He kissed her harder than before. His fingers danced toward her breast, moving, moving, stopping only to tweak her nipple here and there, bringing her to a painful stiffness. And the whole time, he massaged her shoulders with his free hand. When she grabbed at an elusive breath, he moved his mouth to the back of her neck and licked at the top of her spine.

  “You like that?” he whispered into her ear.

  She groaned in response. Her power of speech had long since disappeared.

  She heard him chuckle behind her, and the deep timbre of his voice got her more excited than the day, years ago, when one of her friends had smuggled naked pictures of the Red Hot Chili Peppers into Lia’s bedroom.

  “I can think of other things you might like, Lia,” Ryland said, turning her head so he could kiss her lips again.

  “I have no doubt,” she murmured against his full lips, almost afraid of the intense pleasure she’d already experienced at his hands.

  Surely this was too much for one woman to handle? Everywhere she looked, she saw Ryland Snow. His lips and hands, and eyes that reflected back her own raw desire. He kneaded her skin, rolled her nipples between his fingers and took turns feasting on her mouth and neck.

  She now understood fully this man was a predator, and she’d never been so happy to be someone’s prey.

  Because each time Ryland touched her, each time his lips passed over her heated skin, she felt the bond between them grow. The bond she’d felt immediately upon seeing him the first time. It had come out of nowhere, and stymied her with its intensity. It felt so real and true. As if the two of them had spent years in each other’s company rather than days. As if they’d fought battles together, climbed mountains together, shared histories. As if they’d always known each other.

  She was thunderstruck. She felt indescribably cherished and alive.

  Ryland’s hands slid down to cup her bottom. He squeezed. Then, ever so slowly, she felt his finger slide down between her cheeks. Seeking. Burrowing between her folds. His breath caught. “Oh, fuck.”

  He’d felt her moisture. How could he not? It was practically dripping down her legs.

  And then, as she began to lose all reason, Ryland moved his hand toward her clit. He played with the little pearl, circling it slowly. Over and over he ran his fingers over her wet seam. Exploring her, savoring the feel of her femininity. His other arm came around her front and reached for her pussy as well, joining his other hand. And then they began to move as one delicious unit. Sliding, back and forth, front to back, over and over. Giving her no respite from the mounting, inevitable pleasure.

  On and on, Ryland tortured her until she was digging her nails into his arms, just trying to stay up on her knees.

  Back and forth. Front to back. Sliding, slipping, excruciating beauty.

  Her heart raced. Her temperature soared. There was a foreign pounding somewhere deep in her body, demanding release. Begging for mercy. She was sure it might kill her, it was so violent. It had been so long since a man touched her this way, maybe it would end her life.

  And still Ryland did not stop.

  Then, one of his marauding fingers slipped inside her. Penetrating her core. And as swiftly as it was in, it was out again. Making her want to beg for more.

  But as soon as one finger slid out, another sneaked in.

  Once again, he built up his pattern of exquisite torment. Ryland would dip the finger from one hand in, and as soon as it was out, a finger from his other hand plunged in. Over and over until Lia was dripping her juices all over his wonderful hands.

  She held her breath. Her body seized.

  Ryland suddenly slid two fingers inside her, curling them against her while he tugged on her swollen clit with his other hand. There was an explosion inside her head. She screamed as he fingered her, feeling her pussy contract all around his hand. She couldn’t make out his face, could barely hear his labored breathing for the pounding in her brain.

  Her entire frame felt like a balloon fast running out of helium. She shot into the sky as stars burst from behind her eyes and then fizzled. And even as she sank back down to the ground like that dropping balloon, Ryland held her and continued to touch her with the intimacy she’d craved for so long. Even as her body stilled, he ran a gentle finger over her seam as if his hand belonged there for all time, and it hurt him to pull away.

  It was the greatest feeling in the world. And he’d given it to her. The most selfless thing anyone had ever done for her.

  As her first orgasm in too long faded away, to be sealed up forever in her memory bank, Lia collapsed onto the floor, her eyes closed. Strong hands reached under to pick her up. He brought her over to the bed and tucked her in.

  There was a soft kiss on her forehead. She opened her eyes for one brief moment and smiled at him. “
Thank you,” she said, feeling her heart burst. Almost seeing the invisible cord wrapped around the two of them, joining them, even if Ryland didn’t see it yet himself.

  Her body felt spent. Unable to fight the downward rush, she closed her eyes again and waited for Ryland to join her in bed.

  When he didn’t, moving instead over to the couch, Lia gulped down a disappointment that felt like razors going down, cutting into her flesh.

  He didn’t want to sleep with her either. Just like Rick.

  What a fool she was, thinking the man might want to cuddle after giving her the most life-altering moment she’d ever had. As she listened to him turning on the TV, as she heard the little zing of the remote switching on, she felt something pop inside her. And it hurt more than anything, more than all of Rick’s rejections and betrayals.

  Ryland Snow didn’t really care about her. He’d just wanted to see her get off.

  He’d called her “baby.”

  He was a liar.

  Squeezing a tear out between her eyelids, Lia stifled a cry and burrowed deep inside the covers. The wetness on her inner thighs was like a fresh wound, stinging, and she wanted to wipe it away. She squeezed her legs together, hoping to forget the evidence of her delirious pleasure. Biting her lip and swallowing the lump in her throat, she tried hard to fall asleep.

  * * * *

  Ryland sat on the couch. Frozen to his spot. Hands shaking. His eyes glued to the TV, but not seeing the infomercial advertising a knife that would cut through cans as well as tomatoes.

  His thoughts tormented him, barreling through his mind with furious speed.

  What’s wrong with me? And what kind of man finger-fucks a woman under his protection? He’d never lost it like that in his entire life, even though he’d been with a number of pretty women.

  His eyes focused on the television, Ryland wondered. God only knew he was desperate to turn around, race into the bedroom, and wake Lia in a way she’d never forget. She’d been so beautiful in that moment when she’d come for him. So bloody grateful, even though it was his heart that was filled to bursting with fucking gratitude.

  As he’d slid his eager fingers inside her, almost touching her soul, he’d never felt so connected to another living being. He wanted to explore what was happening more than he’d ever wanted anything.

  Even though her scent was already ingrained in him, for his olfactory sense was his keenest, he brought his shaking hand up to his nose and drank in her intoxicating perfume.

  She’s our mate.

  The words slammed into his skull, demanding to be heard. He whipped his hand from his nose and shoved it under his leg, the one that was nervously wobbling up and down on the couch cushion.

  What kind of crap was that? But as much as he refuted the unexpected words, he couldn’t deny the primal force of the voice speaking them. His inner voice. A voice that had never spoken up with such passion.

  What the hell? His body felt cold. Surely his blood had turned to ice. It was why he’d had to leave Lia alone on the bed. He couldn’t face her like this. She’d think he was a basket case. If he didn’t remove himself from her vicinity, he just knew he’d do something stupid, like get down on one knee before her and beg her to run to Vegas with him.

  He’d had to step away. Far, far away. Outer fucking Mongolia would have been nice, but he’d had to settle for the couch.

  He couldn’t forget her reaction. He’d witnessed her intense pleasure, so powerful it could have been supernatural, and he’d realized something. He’d made her happy in that moment. And nothing in that incredible interlude had been more important than making Lia happy.

  She’s our mate, you ass. Once again, the words echoed in his ear, sounding from the invisible, impatient voice.

  How was this supposed to work, even if he wanted it to work? His brother was breathing down his neck. He had strange men loitering in his resort. A stalker possibly hunting for Lia. And God knew what else.

  And so, not knowing what to do, Ryland sat on the couch. And stared, unseeing, as the knife sliced through the tomatoes.

  * * * *

  Ryland left his suite early the next morning, and tried really hard to tell himself it wasn’t because he was trying to escape Lia’s reproach. Not that he believed she’d say anything about his unwillingness to canoodle in bed. He just couldn’t bear to see any hurt in her eyes, couldn’t bear to hear silence between them.

  Plus, he’d gotten no sleep and knew he must resemble a hairy zombie … in a plaid shirt.

  He posted a couple of his security staff outside the suite and made his way to reception. The day was made even more joyous when he spotted yet another horde of Soren fans harassing Marci. Cursing his luck, and heaping a few curses on his brother to boot, he joined his frazzled clerk and made the Soren-crazed ladies disperse.

  Once the situation was handled, he hid in his office and attempted to answer a few e-mails.

  Within minutes, Soren had barged in. Ryland looked up. “What do you want?”

  Soren looked offended. “Jesus H. Christ, Ryland. You are one ornery dude.” He plunked his big frame into the chair opposite Ryland. “Have you ever considered anger management?”

  “Don’t start with me, Soren,” he warned. “Not today.”

  Soren arched a blond eyebrow. “Why not today, specifically?” He considered, drumming one finger on his temple with dramatic flourish. “Hmm. Is it because the lovely Lia shared your room last night? Are we hot and bothered?”

  He had no idea. “When are you leaving anyway?”

  Soren deadpanned, “You know, your familial affection knows no bounds.” He fidgeted in his seat for a moment, chewing on his fingernail. “Actually, I’ve been thinking. I really should get out of your hair. You were right, Ry. It was selfish of me to drag you and your lodge into my problems. You have a lot going on here and I don’t want to mess anything up for you. I’ll get my stuff together and go.” He stood.

  “No, wait.” Ryland motioned for Soren to sit again, and he did. “Where do you plan to go?”

  Soren shrugged. “I haven’t been to New York in a few months. My apartment there could probably use an airing out. I’ll crash there.”

  Damn. Normally Ryland would be doing jumping jacks at the news his brother was looking to escape. But this time, he didn’t want Soren to go. He might be perpetually pissed off at him, but he was still his brother. His little brother. Well, his younger brother anyway.

  The one who was convinced a hit man was after him.

  Ryland sighed. No, it was better Soren stick around. His time with Lia was obviously muddling his mind, making him think bizarre things. Like wanting to keep family close. “Look, Soren. You might be a pain in my ass, but you’re my brother. And with Mom and Dad corrupting all the aging hippies in Victoria with their weed, we need to stick together. I hate to say it, but your problem is my problem, little brother.”

  Soren stared, his blue eyes wide with awe. “Uh, okay. Thanks.” He looked away, and then returned his dumbstruck gaze to Ryland’s face. “But do you mind if I ask what brought on this change of heart?”

  “I don’t know,” he said as he ran a hand over his unshaved jaw. “I’ve just been feeling a little protective lately. I know it’s not like us to hang out and do shit together, but I’ll cover your ass if you cover mine.”

  “Sure.” Soren’s lip twitched into a half smile. “I’ll be happy to cover Lia’s ass too.”

  “Soren, let me make myself perfectly clear,” Ryland threatened in a deceptively amiable tone. “From this point on, you don’t even get to look at Lia’s ass.”

  Soren backed down, as if seeing a new light in Ryland’s eyes. “Okay, Chief.”

  Ryland thought of her, remembered the unique timbre of her sweet, passionate cries, and was stymied at the instant, debilitating power she had over him. “Bro, have you ever felt … mated to someone?”

  Soren blanched and his shoulders jerked as if he were about to lose his lunch. “Mated? By all t
hat’s holy, no way! Isn’t the whole mate bond thing just myth anyway? Superstition?”

  “I don’t know. Is it?”

  “Well, damn,” Soren uttered as realization sank in. “You feel mated to Lia!” He stared and then true realization smacked him across the face. “Oh my God, you fucked her!”

  Ryland winced. “Seriously, dude. You gotta stop with all the fucks.”

  Soren’s face broke into a huge, randy grin. “I don’t know whether to congratulate you or take a hit out on your ass. You lucky son of a bitch.”

  “I didn’t … take her to bed,” Ryland whispered. “But stuff happened. And Soren, I feel so weird. Like someone has ripped my heart out and shoved it back in the wrong way.”

  “Or maybe the right way?”

  “She’s human. And on the run. Her life is a mess. What am I supposed to do? Ask her to marry me so she can live here in the woods that she hates so much?”

  At the word “marry” a visible shiver passed through Soren’s body. “Well, I guess the first step is to keep her here for a while so you can figure this out. But Ry, whether the mate thing is a myth or not, it’s serious business. They say there’s no going back once you acknowledge your true mate.”

  “This, from the shifter historian.”

  Soren arched an eyebrow at him. “What do I know?” From under his arm, he pulled a book Ryland hadn’t noticed previously, and laid it on the desk before him. “Oh, I thought you might want to read this.”

  Ryland stared at the book. It was a large paperback with a sensual image of two bodies entwined on the cover, those of a buff man and a beautiful woman. The title read, Love in Chains. Many pages were dog-eared.

  Soren actually blushed as he pushed it toward his brother. “Oh, ignore the highlighted sections. Those were just for my reference.” He stood up again. “Listen, I’m gonna go make some calls to friends and see if I can suss out this Valdez situation. Maybe check in with Gina. Make sure she’s okay.”

  “She’s married,” Ryland reminded him with a glare.