Caged

by Diana DeRicci

  Rhys tugged her lips to his and worshiped them with a lingering kiss. Sighing, she rested on his shoulder, chest to chest, when he finally let her go.

  The tender sweep of his fingers ran through the length of her hair. He loved doing it, and it was no surprise how much she loved feeling it. Her cat arched and purred inside under the attention.

  “I love that sound,” he murmured contentedly, not stopping.

  “You just like touching.”

  “And that’s a crime?” Rhys asked.

  “Not if it’s me,” she told him.

  His hand stopped. She blinked and found his eyes open for her. Open to his soul. “Always just for you.”

  Mira glanced down, loosely running her fingers through the faint hair on his chest.

  “You don’t think I mean it.”

  She winced hearing the twinge of hurt in his voice. “It’s just every now and then, I catch myself…waiting.”

  “Waiting?” he gently prodded.

  She nodded. “Waiting for it to end, or for you to not be real.”

  “Mira.” He crooned her name, a breathy caress. “Remember the night I followed you? The night I got to meet your tiger up close?”

  Swallowing, she found it hard to find her voice. “I do.” She’d left him in bed—again—to run. She had been suffering from a swarm of doubts and indecisions about the man holding her. It was the first time she admitted she was falling for him, and it had terrified her. So she’d run, in more than one way.

  Only without her knowing it, Rhys had followed her. And what he’d discovered about her that night had twined them tighter, making her want to fight back harder to keep him out, to keep her secrets safe.

  Except Rhys was having none of it.

  He’d faced her tiger, challenged her doggedly until they’d accepted one another. Then they’d played tag in the woods for what felt like hours. He’d cuddled her tiger, a huge paw on his stomach, a head on his shoulder, or his body draped over hers as he’d talked, his fingers buried into the thick fur of her neck. They’d bonded that night.

  It was the first night he’d truly cracked her secret shell.

  The tug of his fingers in her hair resumed. “Do you think after a night like that, I’d ever you let you go? So you can do something with your body that I’ll never understand. I honestly don’t know how shifting can’t hurt you,” he mentioned as an aside. “But then, you’ll never have to deal with prostate exams. Consider yourself the luckier one of us.” Aligning her body over his until she blanketed him, he continued to stroke her, running his hands up and down her sides at a languid pace. “Besides, I love you. As much as a man can love a woman, a woman who is a cat rather than just being like everyone else and owning half a dozen.”

  By the time he finished, she was grinning, pressing her smile into his chest.

  “Your tiger is beautiful,” he whispered into her ears. “All the shapes you can take are. Want to know why?”

  “Why?” she answered, barely breathing in anticipation of his answer.

  “Because they’re all a part of you.”

  She melted from her toes up. No one had ever seen her, known her, the way this man did. “I can’t believe I found you,” she murmured, her lips brushing over his chest, tingling at the skin to skin sensation. The shirt she wore abraded the tips of her breasts as she wiggled over his body. Straddling his hips, the hardness of his shaft dug into her, creating a wave of need to radiate upward.

  Sensations began registering. The swish of his fingertips. The beat of his heart beneath her. The pulse of his cock against sensitive flesh.

  “If you stay where you are, I won’t be going back to sleep anytime soon,” he warned her. His pelvis lifted, punctuating his intent though the sheet separated them.

  “You can sleep later,” she told him. Then swept her tongue over his chest. There was a light dusting of nearly black hair across his chest, creating a fine trail to his stomach. Running her fingers through it, she caressed and kissed across the solid frame of his collarbone.

  His breathing deepened when she tipped to find the bud of his nipple, the hard point growing beneath her laving tongue. Shudders rolled up and down his body as he tensed beneath each heated stroke.

  “God, that feels incredible.”

  “Are all guys this sensitive?” she asked him, blowing her breath over the damp circle she’d left behind. His fingers tightened on her waist in reaction where he held her.

  “Hell if I know,” he groaned, laughing. The laughter stopped on a gasp when she captured the pearl of flesh between her teeth, raking over the darker disc of skin. It was empowering that it was her touch making him shake like that. She loved that he would let her please him, let her take control and take her time.

  They didn’t get their weekend away at the cabin, but so far, they were getting their weekend in bed.

  Twirling over his skin, she licked at him, then encircled him with her lips, sucking lightly. His breathing increased to heated bursts. She glanced up. His head was pushed into the pillows, absorbed in sensation. That sense of power roared through her. Daring something she’d never done, she let her tongue broaden and thicken, the sandpapery texture much more pronounced.

  Tenderly, she resumed tasting his body.

  The first swipe drew a shout from him as she covered the sensitive skin of his nipple. She hesitated, unprepared for his reaction. Rhys must have caught her indecision.

  “No, don’t stop. Felt too good,” he managed, gasping through each word. His fingers clawed but didn’t hurt as they dug into her sides.

  Gliding down his body, she took her time, running over his ribs, over the flat of his stomach, delving into his bellybutton. His hands fell away, leaving him at her mercy. She’d never known anyone who trusted so deeply and she had to draw a breath to center herself. Fabric bunched into shaking fists when she lowered the offending sheets off his body, exposing his cock to her.

  “Ohh shit.” He quivered at the first pass of her tongue over his hip, trailing the indent of the muscle. “Mira?”

  She froze.

  “No teeth, right?”

  Peeking back up his body, she caught his hooded gaze. “None.”

  His head fell to the pillow with a groan and a plop. “I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

  “Not yet, you haven’t,” she warned him. Maneuvering between his muscled legs, she made herself comfortable, kneeling before her target. Her fingers feathered over his shaft and it pulsed. With excruciating slowness, she started at the base and licked upward, letting the feline rough of her tongue arouse him further.

  The musk of his sex filled her nose with each breath. His moans grew with each wrap of her tongue. Taking him between her lips, she let him fill her mouth. Shudders tore up and down his body. Sliding over his flesh, he brushed against her tongue on every motion. His hips jerked and she put her hands on him, holding him down.

  She was the one in charge. His body twitched, wanting to fight her, wanting the same way she wanted him.

  Rising, she let him go with a hungry, sucking sound. “No.”

  “No?” he rasped, panting.

  “No.” Then she resumed her torture.

  “Oh, God,” Rhys moaned. He was going to die. Never in all his life had he ever experienced anything as incredible as what she was doing with her tongue. Long swipes up and down his length drew his balls tight into his body. The heat of her mouth combined with the wickedness of her tongue was making his toes curl. He had to grip the bed. He was too close to leaping up and attacking her to ram his dick into her body and pound into her heat like he couldn’t breathe without her.

  At that moment, he almost couldn’t.

  The rough texture was sending fire blazing through his body. Then she lovingly licked over one of his balls, tugging it lightly into her mouth and he groaned. Loudly. Her chuckle made his whole body twitch as the vibration slammed into his nerves.

  “Mira.” The breathy growl was a plea, a warning. He wasn’t goin
g to be able to take much more. Glancing down, he found the top of her head, followed the swipe of her tongue, engrossed in its differences, then in how good it felt flowing over his cock. Now he could understand why some people couldn’t live without certain sex toys. Not if they felt as fucking good as what she was doing with her longer, rougher tongue. He watched as she licked up his cock like he was a candy, stopping to swirl over the tight head, claiming the dewdrops of his need from the slit at the tip. “Shit, Mira.”

  “Mmm,” she purred over him and the muscles from his jaw to his calves snapped tight. She straightened to rest on her knees and yanked the shirt over her head. Delicious, round and full, her breasts captured his attention.

  “Now,” he growled.

  She shook her head. “My turn.”

  Kneeling above him, her golden blonde hair swirling around her, she looked like an angel to him. A decadent fallen angel. Then she swung over his hips, straddling his body. With a control he wasn’t sure even he could match, she sunk down on his shaft. Gasps filled the room as she adjusted to his size, swollen to painful with her teasing. Rhys was positive he could feel every inch, every slick pulse when she finally rested, poised.

  Watching her through half closed lids, he had to touch her. Trusting he had some thread of control, he dropped the sheets to cup her breasts and she trembled. Berry lips parted with a sucked breath and she began to ride him. Her hips rocked. Golden hair swayed around her shoulders. It was all he could do to watch her. Massaging her breasts, he rolled and played with her nipples and her spine arched. Tugging her down, he lipped her skin then sucked a hard tip into his mouth, making her cry out.

  Her pussy clenched down. Flicking over the aroused button, he knew she was on the edge. With practiced pressure, he sucked her into his mouth, rolling her over his tongue, then bit on her flesh.

  She jerked back, her body growing tight as pleasure ripped through her. Dampness flowed over his cock and Rhys couldn’t take any more. Clawing commanding fingers into her hips, he held her still as he thrust upward, spiking as deep as he could reach, dying to fill her, to feel her.

  “Rhys.” She whimpered his name between panting gasps.

  Rocking with him, she met him, thrust for thrust, sucking him deep with a tight desire that sent fire coursing through his veins. He couldn’t stop looking at her, couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sheer beauty of her climb to pleasure.

  She sobbed gently, the walls of her pussy fluttering, and he knew she was on the edge, ready to fall careening over the cliff. Rhys drove into her. Her fingers were splayed on his chest, her nails scratching thin slices, but he didn’t care.

  “Come on, baby,” he told her, his voice growled and raw. “Fuck me.”

  His head snapped on his neck as his world exploded. Hot cream coated his cock on her next stroke. He groaned. It felt so good. Silk and steel. Liquid heat. Desire like he’d only known with her tightened his balls hard into his body.

  He burst wide open with a roar of ecstasy. His orgasm exploded through his body, stealing his air when he felt the first pulse rocket through his cock. Driving into her, every shot tore his sanity to shreds, each thrust rushing through his body, clawing through him to reach her.

  Rhys didn’t stop. He wasn’t sure he could. He pumped, her body captured to his, striving to mark her in every way there was that she was his. The shudder of her sheath held him deep, pulled the last ounce of his will from him as he ground his pelvis upward. Focusing on her face, her lips were plump and soft, her blue eyes glazed, watching him.

  Bringing her forward to lay on his chest, both gasping for air, he wrapped his arms around her, and cradled her tightly in his arms. He could barely think after that. Shudders struck them both as they rested in his embrace, two hearts slowly finding a calmer rhythm.

  Burying his face into her neck, he held her close, telling her without words what he felt. He didn’t want to destroy the wonder of what they’d experienced with a single sound.

  Chapter Four

  “Whoa! Slow down Mom,” Rhys said into the phone the next morning. He gave his mother a moment to catch her breath. “Tell me again.” He had to make sure he was hearing her right, and not because she was obviously terrified for him. After standing, he walked around his desk, nodding to the mechanic in front of him, then he closed the door to have some privacy. He was afraid he was going to need it.

  “Seth Bellham called this morning.” Rhys nodded, expecting her to continue. He knew who Seth was, the new property owner adjacent to the land his grandfather owned in the Catskills. Rhys didn’t know him well, but was not liking what he’d already heard from his mother. “He thought he’d passed your truck on the road to the cabins this weekend and wanted to tell you to be careful. He said he spotted a tiger and caught a cheetah!”

  Her voice rose on the end of her outburst.

  “Seth caught it? Are you sure he wasn’t drunk?” Rhys’s stomach wanted to hurl his breakfast. Now he knew who had set the trap. But why?

  “I can’t believe it either. Someone from the city must have had illegal animals and have let them loose up there. Can you imagine? A tiger!”

  Actually he could, but he didn’t say so.

  “What happened to the animal he caught?”

  “You won’t believe this! Someone broke into his stock yard building and set it loose! Cut the cage in half.”

  Rhys smiled, biting back his chuckle. Not in half, Mom. “So there’s a cheetah roaming the streets now, is there? Don’t you think that would have made the news? Where are all the reporters hunting for this wild, dangerous animal?” And it hadn’t been at the stock yard, the lumber yard the man owned, with the fifteen-foot tall security fencing all around it. A logical place if the cat did get loose. Then Rhys would’ve known right away who had captured Mira. So Seth was the one hunting for her, and was daring to lie about it? Asshole.

  “Oh,” she murmured. “You don’t believe him?”

  Rhys shook his head, then told her, “No Mom, not about there being large cats up in the mountains. I don’t know what he might have caught, but there’s nothing up there that isn’t supposed to be.”

  “Well, I just wanted to let you know,” she said a little disappointed, most likely feeling foolish for believing Seth, and being had. “I didn’t even know you were going up there last weekend. He was positive the tiger had been dangerously close to the cabin, like it had come from that direction. He’d left to get his rifle, but it was gone when he returned to where he’d spotted it.”

  Rhys sank into his chair behind his desk, his stomach churning again. God, Mira could have been shot! He swallowed, fighting the sensation until he felt he could talk again. His legs felt cold. His entire body felt like he’d been sandwiched between layers of ice.

  Rhys drew a breath, knowing he had to tell his mother he had been at the cabin, or she’d think he was hiding something, which he was. “Yeah, I took Mira up there to get away for a couple days. Did he see anything else besides cats?” He tried to fight his nervousness, but thankfully his mother didn’t catch on to it.

  “Seth didn’t say.”

  Shit. What if he saw us? What if he saw Rhys with Mira? They’d run through the glade like kids for over an hour before collapsing together. Maybe, if he were a lucky man, Seth had stumbled across her before Rhys found her, then lost her when they disappeared into the darkness, when she’d tried running from him.

  He ran fingers across his eyes, a chill settling onto the top of his spine. He hoped that was the way it had gone, otherwise, his mother was being played by Seth, which only pissed him off more. If Seth knew more and was using his mother to get information from him, Rhys was going to hunt for the man himself, save him the trouble of looking for them.

  “I’ll be careful, Mom. But I really don’t see how it’s possible.”

  “I know,” she allowed. “But he was convincing. Said the person who rescued the cat left the cutters behind. It had to be one of those extreme animal preservationist peopl
e. Wild animals like that need to be in their own homes.”

  Damn! He completely forgot to grab them in his rush to get the hell out of there. “I agree,” he replied, his mind still circling over what he’d learned. “Mom,” he asked. “Why would he be trapping anything up there? Why would he have a cage?”

  “I don’t know, Rhys. I think he hunts for turkey, but I don’t have any idea when that is.”

  Rhys didn’t either, but he was sure it wasn’t mid-summer, regardless. When his mom hung up, he dialed home, needing to hear Mira.

  “Hey there.” Her voice instantly put him at ease when she picked up on her end at the house.

  “Hi kitty-cat. How’re you doing?”