“Emerson? How do you feel?”
She pulled more food items from the pantry. Crackers, canned meat, and dried fruit were on the island behind her.
She glanced briefly at him before grabbing some canned peaches. “I’m okay. Do you mind if I take all the peaches?”
“No.”
“Thanks.” She put the food into one of those reusable fabric bags before giving him a strained smile. “I’ve put some of the bottled water from the bottom cupboard in my room as well. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course,” he said.
He stepped around the island, moving closer to her until she tensed and shook her head.
“Has it started?” he said.
Her nostrils flared, and she cocked her head, staring at him in a way that made him very aware of his hardening dick and just how fucking much he wanted to be between her thighs. She drifted closer until she was only inches from his body.
“It’s very close.” Her voice had deepened, and when she started purring, he had to resist the temptation to pull her up against his body.
“You smell good, human,” she said. She leaned in, and he groaned when she licked him from the base of his neck to the spot just below his ear. “You taste good.”
“Emerson,” his voice was unsteady, and the sudden lack of blood in his brain made it impossible to think clearly, “you said this was a bad idea.”
She growled and then stepped back, her face pale and her body jittery. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right,” he said. “I’m still willing to help if -”
“No,” she said. “No, I can’t. I have to go to my room right now.”
“Take my room,” he said. “I’ll move the water into it for you.”
“No,” she said. “I can’t do that. It’s your room and -”
“It has a bathroom attached to it,” he said. “You won’t have to leave the room until your heat is over. That’s what’s best, right?”
She hesitated before nodding. “Yes, that’s what’s best.”
He left her in the kitchen and carried the water from her room to his. When he turned around, she was standing in the room with him. She’d discarded the bag of food on the floor, and she studied him like she wanted to - his cock pressed painfully against the fabric of his jeans – fuck him.
“I can smell how much you want me.” Emerson lifted her head and inhaled deeply. Her dark brown eyes were jade now, and he could see her fangs when she smiled at him. “Such a pretty human.”
She purred loudly, her gaze drifting down his body to linger at his cock. “Will you give me what I want?”
“I can’t,” he said. He needed to be more afraid than he was, but all he could think about was how good it would feel to sink into Emerson’s pussy. She’d be tight and wet and so fucking warm.
She purred again before crooking her finger at him. “Come here, little human. It’s time for you to make me feel good.”
“I can’t,” he repeated. “I’m leaving now, Emerson.”
She hissed her displeasure, baring her fangs at him. “No. Give me what I want.”
“Control it,” he said as he inched his way to the door. “You don’t want to hurt me, remember?”
She hissed again before her eyes shut and her hands clenched into fists at her side. He walked past her but stopped in the doorway. “Emerson?”
“Leave, Clay,” she said without opening her eyes. “Leave while I’ll still let you leave.”
He stepped out of her room and shut the door. He walked unsteadily to the living room and sank down on the couch.
Holy fuck. His hands were trembling, and his cock was as hard as a fucking rock. While the sensible wants to live, part of Clay screamed at him to stay exactly where he was, the part that had him convinced that dying while fucking Emerson was the way to go was almost winning the goddamn war inside of him.
He took a few deep breaths, sucking in the good air and blowing out the bad air, before leaning his head back against the couch and closing his eyes. Behind him, he could hear the low purrs and soft cries of Emerson drifting from his bedroom. She was in his bed right now. She was in his bed, naked and touching herself, and he had to stay right where he was on the fucking couch.
It would be a long two days.
She was hot. So, fucking hot.
The pulsing need set her insides on fire, and she couldn’t stand it any longer.
She stared up at the ceiling of the bedroom, her fingers circling her clit until, with a loud cry, she climaxed again. It brought a momentary reprieve to the heat and the need, but she knew it wouldn’t last nearly long enough.
Her jaguar was restless within her, pacing and yowling a constant litany of incomprehensible desire that was drove her mad.
Emerson tried to slow her breathing and relax in the few precious moments she had before her body demanded more. Demanded relief. Demanded an end to the constant agonizing ache deep inside her core.
She whined low in her throat as the first pulses started again. The window of relief she felt between orgasms was growing smaller and smaller. She had no idea how long she’d been in her heat, but she didn’t think it’d been more than twelve hours. She still had at least thirty-six to go.
Her jaguar growled, then whined, then purred. Sweat beaded up on Emerson’s forehead as she clutched at the quilt and tried to prepare for the upcoming onslaught of lust.
Fuck, this was agony. This was goddamn hell, and if she didn’t do something, didn’t get something more, she wouldn’t make it through her entire heat.
Clay.
Her jaguar purred at just the thought of him and tried to take control. Emerson fought her back bitterly. If she let her jaguar take over, who knew what she would do to Clay.
You know what we’d do. We’d ride his lovely thick cock until the ache finally stopped. Until the madness itching at our brains quieted and we could rest. Masturbating isn’t enough, Emerson. We need him. I won’t hurt the pretty human. I promise. Give him to me… please.
Her jaguar was so confident in her belief she wouldn’t hurt Clay. Denying her jaguar hurt nearly as much as the ache growing steadily stronger inside of her. Emerson sat up and stared wild-eyed at the door. Clay was just beyond it. He was there and he had a perfectly good cock that she could use. Why was she in this room by herself when she should be with him?
Her jaguar made another push, and Emerson purred loudly before sliding off the bed. She’d find Clay, and he would help her. He had to. If he didn’t, she’d pin him down and take what was hers and –
Emerson, no!
She staggered back from the door, her voice of reasoning echoing in her head, as her jaguar hissed and growled with rage.
Emerson clutched at her head and paced back and forth. The room was so hot. She was so hot. Why did he have the heat so high?
Fresh air. That was what she needed. She’d go outside for a minute and cool off. It would help, right? It had to help.
You can’t go outside of the room, Em. If you see Clay, you’ll try to fuck him. Go back to the bed. Touch yourself. It will help.
It won’t! Her jaguar whined. Give me the human.
Emerson cocked her head in thought before staring at the window. She could use the window to go outside. She wouldn’t go far. Just a quick walk around the cabin to help clear her head. The cold air would numb the ache. It had to. She couldn’t stand the agony if it didn’t.
She opened the window, moaning a little as the cold air washed over her heated skin.
At least get dressed first! Em, please!
She studied her naked body before grabbing a red t-shirt from the dresser. She slipped it on but shut down her inner voice when it begged her to put pants on as well. She didn’t need pants. She wouldn’t be out there that long, and besides, she couldn’t cool down with clothes on, right? Right.
She climbed out the window, staring with dull apathy at her bare feet as they sank into the snow. The snow was d
rifted deep from the wind and came up to her knees. She leaned against the cabin for a few moments, the hard pellets of snow bouncing off her skin and the wind howling so loudly, it drowned out the annoying sound of her inner voice. The ache in her belly was easing as her skin cooled, and she could have cried with relief.
Better. This was better.
Her eyes popped open when only a few minutes later, the ache in her belly returned with a vengeance and the momentary reprieve of her heated skin disappeared.
“No,” she moaned. “No, not yet.”
Her pelvis throbbed to the point of pain. She pushed away from the cabin. Colder. She needed to be colder. The cabin blocked the wind, but if she walked out a few feet, it would help cool her.
Barely feeling the burn of her bare skin in the snow, she stumbled away from the cabin, pushing through the knee-high snow with dogged determination. The wind hit her like a wild beast, whipping her long hair around and driving the snow into her flesh with bullet-like force. She winced but kept walking. It was dark out, but it was hard to see even with her cat vision because of the blowing, driving snow.
She kept walking, a vague idea forming in her brain that she would walk until the ache in her pelvis disappeared. Her body shivered, and she smiled when the ache and the heat turned distant and unimportant. Her feet were burning, and her fingers wouldn’t bend, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was the ache was gone, and she was sleepy. She could finally get some rest. Maybe if she were really lucky, she’d sleep through the rest of her heat.
She turned to go back to the cabin, staggering on her feet at a particularly violent gust of wind and falling to her knees. She closed her eyes and called for her jaguar. She was so tired now. She would rest for a few minutes in her jaguar form to keep her warm before she went back to the cabin.
She called for her jaguar again as darkness descended and the world went black.
Clay paced in front of the fire in the living room. It was precisely twenty-two paces from one wall to the other. He knew that because he’d walked the fucking same straight line for the last four hours.
He glanced at his closed bedroom door as Emerson made a cry of relief. At least, he thought it was relief. It was getting increasingly difficult to tell now. He had a feeling that what she was doing wasn’t helping as much as it was earlier.
He scrubbed a hand through his hair as he continued to pace. The last ten hours were painful for him, he could only imagine how excruciating it was for Emerson. Every one of her soft cries and purrs sent a message straight to his dick and he’d been hard as a fucking rock for most of the day.
He could have jerked off, but it didn’t feel right getting off listening to Emerson. Not when what was happening to her was something she couldn’t control and didn’t want.
Also, you think she might ask you for help. Admit it. You don’t want to wear yourself out by jacking off every fucking time you hear her coming, in case she gives in and asks you to fuck her.
He wanted to deny it, but what was the point? He hoped she’d ask him for help.
You’re an idiot. You’re willing to be ripped apart just because you want to get laid.
His inner voice wasn’t wrong.
He stopped pacing and cocked his head, staring again at the bedroom door before glancing at the clock on the microwave. Earlier in the day, Emerson seemed to have periods of quiet that lasted for two to three hours. As the day wore on, the period between when she was touching herself and when she was resting had grown shorter and shorter until there were barely ten minutes between them.
Because her heat is getting worse, not better. She needs your help. Go help her.
The part of him willing to have his skin shredded if it meant fucking Emerson won the war raging inside him. He walked to the bedroom and pressed his ear against the door, listening intently.
There was no sound at all, and some of his tension eased. She must have finally fallen asleep. He started to creep away when he realized that his feet were cold. He stared at his bare feet, puzzled by the cold wind gusting out from under Emerson’s bedroom door.
Shit. She must have opened the window. He hesitated, listening intently for signs of Emerson moving in the bed. If she’d opened the window and then fell asleep, the room would be freezing in no time. The storm hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down.
Not used to being a man of indecision, he scowled at the way he stood in the hallway before easing open Emerson’s door. He would close the window while she slept. She’d been awake for hours this time, and despite her jaguar hearing, he was confident he wouldn’t wake her. He knew how to be quiet when his life depended on it.
He stared in surprise at the empty bed before his gaze slid to the bathroom. The door was open, and he could see the toilet and part of the shower. Emerson had to be in the bathroom, but why wasn’t the shower running? Was she standing behind the bathroom door for some reason?
His scowl deepened. What was Emerson doing in there?
He walked silently toward the bathroom, skipping the floorboard that creaked, and poked his head into the bathroom. The shower was empty. Hoping like hell she didn’t slice open his jugular, he stepped into the bathroom and swung the door closed. “Emerson, what are you… what the fuck?”
The bathroom was empty. He pivoted in a slow circle as if he thought Emerson might appear like a mirage in front of him. Where the fuck was she?
He left the bathroom, scanning the bedroom before opening the small closet and peering inside. What the fuck was going on? Did she somehow slip past him and out of the bedroom while he was in the bathroom looking for her?
He started toward the door when a powerful gust of wind rattled the window frame. He turned, staring at the open window as a horrible image poked to life in his brain. No, she wouldn’t have left. She couldn’t have left…
His heart pounding in his chest, he stuck his head out the window and looked to the left and then the right. The wind howled, and hard snow struck his face and throat. There was no sign of her, but…
He studied the faint path in the snow leading away from the cabin. The wind blew snow across it, but he recognized fucking tracks in the snow when he saw them.
“Fuck!” He yanked his head back into the cabin and slammed the window shut before sprinting for the front door. He jammed his feet into boots, took a flashlight from the kitchen drawer, and grabbed his jacket. He yanked it on as he opened the door and ran out into the howling wind and blowing snow.
He winced, putting up his hand to protect his face as he ran around the side of the cabin and used the flashlight to follow the rapidly disappearing path of Emerson’s tracks. He’d only gone about thirty feet when the light caught a flash of red in the dark and the snow.
“Emerson!” The wind tore her name from his lips and carried it away.
He surged forward through the deep snow, dropping to his knees beside her and flipping her onto her back. She was wearing just a t-shirt, and he brushed the snow from her face, a weird kind of panic infusing his system at how cold and pale her skin was.
“Emerson!” He pressed his fingers against her throat, some of his panic easing when he felt the steady beat of her pulse. “Emerson, baby, wake up.”
He patted her cheek lightly at first, then harder when she didn’t move. “Emerson! Open your eyes, goddammit!”
He slapped her hard across the cheek, and her eyes popped open. She stared at him for a few seconds before her eyelids fluttered closed again.
“Fuck! No, baby, don’t go back to sleep. Look at me!” He shook her hard, and she blinked at him.
“Clay? Tired.”
“I know, baby, but I need you to stand up for me. C’mon, stand up.” He slid his arm around her waist, grateful when she tried to stand. He got her to her feet and then cursed when her eyes rolled up in her head, and she crumpled toward the ground. He caught her before she could sink back into the snow and heaved her over his shoulder.
He trudged back to the cabin. It was barely
visible in the dark and the snow, even with his flashlight. He hurried inside and carried Emerson directly to his bedroom. He set her on the bed, took off his jacket and boots, and left them on the floor.
Her skin was ice cold. He rubbed her feet and hands briskly until they went from white to soft pink and then tucked her under the sheet and the quilt. He sat on the edge of the bed and cupped her face. “Emerson, baby, wake up.”
Her eyes rolled behind her eyelids and her body shivered. Clay smoothed her hair back from her face, happy to see the shivers and the goosebumps on her skin. “Emerson, look at me.”
She blinked at him. “Cold. So cold.”
“I know. You’ll warm up soon.”
Her eyes closed again. He tucked the quilt a little tighter around her and waited. When after five minutes, her shivering was worse instead of better, he stood and stripped off his clothes before sliding into the bed beside her.
“Turn on your side away from me, Em,” he said.
She turned obediently onto her side, and he spooned her. The cold material of her t-shirt brushed against his chest and abdomen. He rubbed her arm and thigh with brisk movements as she burrowed her head under the covers.
He snuggled in even closer to her. Their bodies aligned perfectly, but her ass nestled up against his crotch didn’t make him hard. Not when he was still worried that she had hypothermia.
After ten minutes or so, her shivering had all but stopped. Despite the coolness of the room, it was warm and cozy under the covers with her. He stroked her hip through her t-shirt. “Warmer now?”
“Hmm,” she said. “Tired.”
“Why did you go outside, baby?” he said.
“Hot,” she mumbled. “So hot. I couldn’t stand it.”
He smoothed back her hair. “Get some rest.”
It was after seven, and the room was dark, but Emerson had left the lamp on the nightstand turned on. He studied her face in the dim light before pressing his nose against her silky dark hair and inhaling. Fuck, she smelled good. She was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen, and her soft curves were the perfect fit against him.
Rise of the Jaguar Page 10
