by Fel Fern
He kissed her deeper, and she eagerly leaned towards him. Her brown eyes flickered hungrily to the pale green of her leopard, and she strained herself forward to him despite the chains.
Damn, but he wanted nothing but to touch her. He needed to touch her and hold her sweet, delicious body in his hands. Lars licked, sucked and nipped her lower lip impatiently. His cock stirred inside his jeans, demanding attention, wanting to feel Cas’s pussy around it.
Their tongues caressed and dueled for a few seconds, but Cas eventually let his prodding tongue in. Instantaneous heat leapt from her mouth to his.
The black leopard inside him surged to the surface, eager to meet its fated mate and eager to protect her and rescue its consort.
Lars withdrew his lips, despite wanting more. Cas gave him a tight, small smile.
“I love you, Lars.”
Her words hit him like a bullet. No one had ever said those words to him before. An unnamed emotion began to painfully swell in his chest. When Des made his crazy proposal at the club, Lars thought the consort was insane. The old him wouldn’t have even considered staying on, let alone being caught up in a mess not his own.
Things changed, sometimes for the better. Lars realized he’d take responsibility for an entire pard, just to make a home with Des and Cas. He wanted to see Des’s mischievous eyes looking up at him as the consort wrapped his lips around his shaft.
He wanted to see Cas’s smile every morning, and since he was on a roll, he wanted to see those phantom cubs become a reality.
“I know it’s sudden, but I just wanted you to know. Before you came, I always felt dead inside, like a corpse going about its errands. I’ve never felt so alive in ages. Thank you.”
“Sweetheart, you’re making me nervous by talking like that. No one is going to die. Not you, not Des, and not me.”
Lars tested the silver cuff again. This time, he expended more energy and the satisfying sound of metal followed. Cas’s eyes widened as Lars finally freed himself and then turned to her.
Feeling around the place, they’d discovered Trig and Razor locked them up in some kind of basement. Using his shoulder, Lars forced the door up the stairs opened. The interior of a designer kitchen looked back at them.
“Not Trig’s place. It probably belongs to Razor,” Cas mused.
“Let’s go rescue our consort,” Lars told her.
Catching him looking at her undress, she crooked one questioning eyebrow at him.
“I like to admire my woman undressing, even in emergencies. Is it such a crime?”
She laughed. “Am I your woman now, Lars?”
Lars grabbed her cheeks and looked deep into her eyes.
“I’m sorry for taking so long, but I’m all in, Cas. Is the job still available?”
She smiled, and the dimples on her cheek stood out. Lars thumbed her dimples.
“Is that a yes, then?”
“Come on, my king. Let’s not keep Des waiting.”
Lars dispensed with his own clothes and found a deadly, slender spotted leopard looking back at him intently. Cas’s leopard pelt was a deep gold color and patterned with circular black rosettes. She thumped her tail to and fro, watching him as he shed his human skin for his cat.
The change was smooth. Bones popped and human skin was exchanged for black fur, but the shift was painless. They caressed their fur against each other before breaking out into a run out the house and into the streets. Night had fallen and the darkness was their ally.
They kept to dark corners and empty streets, and used the pard bonds to sense where Des was. Lars took care not to pull on the pard bonds too much. They didn’t want to let Trig know they were coming.
After the pummeling the coward did to his queen, Lars wasn’t in a very forgiving mood.
* * * *
“When I’m not here, it’s your job to protect Cas. You understand, Des?”
Despite the throbbing pain in his head where Trig last hit him, Gerald’s words painfully echoed back to him. The words hurt. Hurt even worse than the blows he’d had to endure under Trig’s care.
“Trig, I think your cat’s pretty enough. Let’s get a move-on. I don’t like leaving the black leopard and his bitch alone for long,” Razor whined.
Des bit his bleeding lip, and tried to ignore the shoe nudging at his battered ribs. Trig continued to sneer down at him. Disgust and distaste were imprinted on his features.
“I was right. You’re a fucking weak coward with no pride, Des. I’ll show you what a real man’s like by making you watch me fuck your bitch.”
Des couldn’t care less about his pride. He squeezed his eyes shut. Oh, Cas. Trig’s words hit him like a sack of bricks. Des didn’t think he could stand seeing the enforcer taking Cas.
“You think taking a woman against her will makes you a man, Trig?” Des grunted, ignoring the pain shooting up his ribs as Trig kicked him again.
He had to keep talking and buy more time. Des had to believe choosing Lars was the right decision. The more pain wrecked his miserable body, the more his belief shattered.
“Still want to spout bullshit, Des?” Trig taunted.
“Enough, Trig. We better get back—” Razor didn’t finish his words.
A slender golden leopard rammed right into the werewolf’s legs, bringing him to the ground. Razor’s curse soon turned to a cry of pain. Des’s chest swelled with a mixture of hope and pride. Cas. He’d recognize the graceful predator anywhere.
His queen didn’t waste her time. Cas could be ruthless when she needed to. She knew Razor would be able to overwhelm her due to his sheer bulk alone when he shifted. Her canines closed on his throat and didn’t let go.
Des didn’t have the luxury of time to watch her finish her kill. He was being dragged up through his bloody by Trig when an unstoppable black force launched itself at the enforcer. The large cat wouldn’t be mistaken for anyone else but Lars. Trig never stood a chance.
Lars wasn’t as merciful or as quick as Cas. He toyed with the screaming leopard like he had all the time in the world, and Des had the best view in the house. Remembering Trig was responsible for the deaths of Gerald and the other pard enforcers, Des coldly approved.
Sensing Cas, his attention shifted from the black leopard to his queen. Back in human form, she knelt down beside him, her expression concerned. Seeing the fading bruises on her skin, he let out a croak of protest. He felt her hands on him, examining him for any injuries.
“Everything’s fine now, Des,” she murmured.
Satisfied he had no serious injuries, Cas affectionately stroked his hair. Her touch was gentle and soft. How could he miss her and want her so terribly even if they’d just seen each other this morning?
Despite his shame, Des let her bring his head to rest on her lap. Pressing his nose to the tender flesh of her thigh, he inhaled the sweet, lovely scent of her. His hands gripped and clutched her hips. She was solid and real. Cas was safe.
Gods, if he lost her, too, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.
He took deep breaths and sat up slowly, painfully.
“Cas, I’m sorry I’ve failed you.”
Her brows furrowed. Knowledge lit her dark eyes, as if she knew what he was thinking. She grasped his hands with her small ones.
“Listen to me. You didn’t fail me, Des.”
“But Trig got to you. I broke my promise to Gerald.”
“None of us suspected him, Des. No one’s to blame. Accidents happen.”
Des felt her lips brushing against his cheek. He closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of her lips as she kissed her way to his mouth. Des could feel the metaphysical energy of his beast, brushing its fur against hers in familiar comfort.
Footsteps neared the two of them, reminding Des it was no longer just him and Cas. The emptiness they’d both felt when Gerald left was no longer there. They were finally whole and complete.
I didn’t make a mistake in trusting the black leopard.
Lars was back in
his human form, and his body glinted with sweat and Trig’s blood. He looked fierce, savage, and hot as hell. Our king.
“Des.” Lars growled, but there was affection in his growl. “I can smell your arousal from here.”
His cheeks unexpectedly burned. Lars helped Cas up and lent him a hand. Their woman brought the two of them close to her, closing the awkward distance between them. Des leaned close, nuzzling her neck, wrapping his arms around her waist. Lars draped his large frame over the two of them, his tanned and inked hand resting on Des’s hand.
Cas planted a kiss on both their lips.
“Let’s go home.”
Chapter Ten
Lars was certain the pard wouldn’t take kindly to the news he’d killed one of their enforcers. He’d thought it would be an uphill task convincing them he’d only been defending their queen and consort, but with Cas and Des beside him, it was easier breaking the news to them than expected.
Loyal enforcers to Cas, like Noah, weren’t surprised about Trig’s betrayal. Most of the cats just seemed genuinely relieved to be out of the dark, and were glad their old king and other enforcers could finally rest in peace.
Taking over as their new king wasn’t as easy, but Lars was patient. He knew the pard would still need time to adjust to him and his rule, but he was slowly getting there. Knowing what was beneath the hood of a car and the engines of most bikes, Lars found a job at the garage, and it helped him learn more about the other cats and their lives.
He’d been honest and upfront with them. “I’m not Gerald and I’ll never be him, but I’m going to do my best.”
His best seemed enough for them. Lars was never good with words, so he’d just have to show the pard by his actions.
Lars had ordered an in-depth investigation into Trig and Razor’s partnership, but the alpha of the Leopold City wolf pack denied any involvement. Seeing the angry way Rafael Strum had reacted to the news, Lars knew the alpha wasn’t lying. Then again, Rafael hadn’t been very happy about Sam and Rain remaining with the pard. When Lars told Rafael he wouldn’t rest until the city arrested him for his numerous criminal charges, Rafael grudgingly agreed to let Sam and Rain go.
He had a nasty feeling someone else, perhaps an unknown party, had been pulling Trig and Razor’s strings, but it was another problem for another day. Lars was patient. Eventually, he’d get to the bottom of this mess.
He’d come a long way from being a selfish bastard who cared only about himself. Lars thought back to his past, to the wasted years he’d spent on the road, doing odd jobs and fucking anything that walked on two legs. It had been a lonely life, if not a miserable one.
Lars’s thoughts then centered on his baby sister, and how the last fight they’d had in a nameless bar had only worsened the growing gap between them. Lex was how old now? Twenty-four, maybe twenty-five? He wished he knew how she was doing. At the very least, he hoped she’d find the same measure of happiness as he had.
In his opinion, mornings with Des and Cas were still the best.
“I like your new vest, Des,” Lars commented, sipping his coffee. “Another teacher’s conference?”
He’d always enjoy baiting and teasing his green-eyed consort. It was just too easy. Lars noticed Cas threw them a curious glance over her shoulder by the stove. He winked back at her, and she only went back to her cooking.
“Smug bastard. I know you don’t like my vests, but you do know I keep separate sets of clothes for teaching and at home.”
Lars couldn’t help being childish. He sniggered.
“Oh yeah. I like you more in ratty shirts and torn jeans, Des. You look much more fuckable and delicious in them. I suppose looking stiff gets me all hard, too.”
He gave the lean consort an appreciative once-over and color immediately blossomed on Des’s cheeks. Lars’s cock stirred at the sight.
“I don’t have time for your bullshit, Lars,” Des muttered.
“Bullshit?” Lars drawled.
He pushed his chair back from the breakfast table, letting the other man see the notable bulge in his jeans. Des’s gaze didn’t waver. He stared at the bulge with hungry eyes.
Lars patted his lap. “Come over here, slut.”
“I’m late for work.” Des said those words, but he wasn’t running out the front door. He’d neared Lars’s chair tentatively at first, but Lars brought Des closer to him.
“Beg me to give you a good-morning send-off, Des. Like you usually do.”
“I don’t—”
Des’s resistance died the instant Lars’s hand tore at the button of his trousers.
“Take off your clothes, Des.”
The consort bit his lip. Lars glanced over at Cas, who was watching them intently, her eyes bright and excited. “Babe, come over here and tell Des here he won’t be heading out unless he admits he wants a good fucking.”
Lars felt her by his shoulder, wearing only one of his large tees. His balls drew up tight against him. Heat pooled into his belly and cock at the mere brush of her skin. Fuck. Sometimes he still wondered how he’d ever gotten so lucky to have Des and her all to himself.
“Des, didn’t you tell me how you’d missed riding Lars’s cock?”
“Cas—”
“Please, Des? I want to watch the two of you.”
Damn. Lars couldn’t keep the grin off his face. He knew how fast Des became a hopeless pushover whenever Cas used that voice on him. Then again, he was no different. They’d give anything Cas wanted. Des had already dispensed with his vest and long-sleeved shirt and tie, and was beginning to shrug off his trousers and underwear, glowering at Lars all the while.
“Sweetheart, help me off these clothes.” Lars felt Cas’s delicious hands on him, pulling his shirt over his head and then tugging down his shorts.
He teasingly pulled at her braid and brought her to him for a kiss. She felt good and right in the curve of his arms. Lars’s hands slipped under her shirt and he eagerly reacquainted himself with the taste of her soft skin. She parted her lips for him, and Lars thrust his tongue in her.
Cas let go of him. Lars hungrily watched her as she aimed her deadly, imploring, wide brown eyes at Des. She fluttered her long lashes and the adorable dimple on her mouth stood out.
“Des, just awhile?”
Lars heard the consort swear under his breath. He let go of Cas and settled back on his chair. Des gasped when Lars pulled him to his lap and spread him open. The consort’s semi-erect prick betrayed him and Lars pointed it out just to see the flush spread across Des’s face. Lars began with a little foreplay, stroking Des’s inner thigh until the man began to grind himself against him.
“Tell me what you want, Des.”
“Fuck you, Lars.”
“Wrong answer.” Lars slid one finger into his slit, making him cry out.
Just one press of his nail on the thick ring of muscle was enough for Des to plead, for the consort’s body to quiver with need against him.
“Please, Lars.”
“What, Des?”
“Fuck me. I need you inside me.”
By his shoulder, Lars accepted the lube Cas handed to him.
“Thank you, sweetheart. Give me a kiss.”
She did.
“You do like watching us, don’t you, babe?”
Her smile lit him up, stoking the fires gathering inside him. Lars just had her this morning in the shower, but he wanted to have at her again. He was one greedy and horny bastard.
Once his fingers were wet, he applied a generous amount of lube around Des’s slit. The other man moaned against him, continually rubbing himself against his chest. Lars slid one finger and then another. Des was so horny, he didn’t have any problems scissoring his fingers inside him.
“Please,” Des murmured against him.
Lars complied.
He easily lifted the other man until his cock nudged into his opening. With exams coming, Lars knew it was a busy and tiring time for Des, so he knew how badly the consort needed to relax.
He could feel Des wind his arms around his neck as he began to thrust his way in.
“Des, you’re wonderfully tight and hot around me,” Lars whispered against the other man’s ear.
Des groaned and Lars began to hammer his way in. He increased his rhythm and speed, knowing the way Des liked it. When Des gasped and Lars felt the graze of his teeth against his neck, he knew he’d hit Des’s sweet spot. Lars angled himself and thrust at Des’s gland again and again, liking the sound of his appreciative gasps and little screams.
“Lars, I can’t. I don’t think I’ll last,” Des breathed.
Lars’s fingers closed over the consort’s thick length.
“Come for me, Des.”
The warm spray of Des’s cum squirted over his belly. Lars wasn’t far along, either. Gripping Des’s hips, Lars drove deep into him and exploded. Sensation drowned him in a sea of bliss. The black leopard inside him growled in assent as it collided with the heat of its consort. He pressed Des’s sweat-soaked hair against his chest when he was done. Des mewled contently against him, his green eyes lethargic.
The warmth of Cas’s back pressed behind his chair. Lars felt her reach out to stroke Des’s hair, while the other hand curled around his shoulder.
“Lars, Des,” she breathed their names.
Lars turned his neck at her, and he could feel Des doing the same. Her dark eyes were solemn.
“Sweetheart, is something wrong?” Lars asked, beginning to become concerned.
“What do you two think of starting a family?”
Lars’s heart swelled in his chest. For a moment, it was painful to breathe. Des grew still against him, and Lars knew he felt the same. The other man wanted a family as much as he did. His imagination went into overdrive and he envisioned little cubs with Cas’s red curls, Des’s mischievous eyes and even a surly little black cub who looked like him running about the apartment.
“You’re pregnant, baby?” Lars didn’t hide the hopeful note in his voice.
Cas kissed his cheek and then Des’s. “Twins. Oh, I hope the boys would look like you both.”
