Taming The Cougar

by Vonna Harper

  “That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” she softly asked. “Sex, whether I want it or not.”

  “I smelled your cunt. You’re alive.”

  “Of course I am! As for the scent, haven’t you heard—fear and sexual need are both powerful emotions.”

  In many respects, he was like a naïve boy. Unfortunately, his adult body wanted more than his mind comprehended.

  “What I don’t understand,” she continued, “is why you kidnapped me. You—you’re attractive. You can’t have trouble getting—” She looked around, mouth slack and eyes widening. “Where are we?”

  “My home.”

  She shook her head, the long hair brushing her shoulders. “No. It can’t be.”

  Much as he wanted to know what she was talking about, the explanation would have to wait because he’d put off Cougar’s demands as long as he could. Even now Cougar screamed and tore at him to be let free. Jaws clenched, he pushed off the table and ended the distance between them. She started to take a backward step, only to stop and glance down at the rope around her leg. Then he reached for her throat and she moaned softly. His fingers were becoming numb, his nostrils keener. Feline muscles pushed against his flesh.

  Working quickly, he freed her legs, then removed the rope collar. After dragging the end of it off her leg, he led her over to the table and bent her over it with her head down. She moaned again, longer, higher. Freeing her wrists took a long time because his fingers refused to work, and he struggled to think how to resecure her without giving her the opportunity to fight him. Keeping her against the table, he drew her arms over her head, pulling off her shirt and bra as he did.

  Remembering how to tie knots took up more time and mental energy he didn’t have, as did positioning her under a slab some seven feet above the ground and tossing the rope over the slab so he could secure her to it. He left enough slack that she could stand flat-footed, and bend her elbows somewhat.

  All but panting in relief, he stepped away. His vision was blurring as it had countless times. Although he rubbed his eyes, she remained shaded and shimmering. He had to get out of here, go where she couldn’t see what he became.

  Too late! His legs lost strength, bringing him to his knees. He managed to yank off his boots and jeans and stand again, but the effort left him too weak to make it to the entrance. Despite his battle to slow the change, his body shifted, stretched, bones thickening and taking on new form, flesh becoming covered in short hair. His mouth expanded, teeth lengthening. He stared without seeing as his hands morphed into claws. Then, surrendering to the inevitable, he bent forward and his newly emerged front legs bore Cougar’s weight.

  Kai couldn’t close her mouth, couldn’t think how to blink. “My God. My God,” she blurted without knowing she was going to speak.

  On an instinctive level, she’d known something like this was going to happen, but watching a man become a cougar was beyond her comprehension. With no more than five feet between them, she felt the predator’s strength in every molecule of her being. During the change, he/it hadn’t looked at her, but now yellow eyes locked on her. They harbored no humanity.

  Fighting terror, she yanked on her bonds, but there was no give to the rope. Much as she needed to scream, she didn’t, because the sound might prompt what Hok’ee had become to attack.

  She’d been wrong, terribly wrong to think she’d been grabbed simply because her captor wanted sex. Had the truth been that the man provided the cougar with food, and she was about to become tonight’s dinner?

  No, that didn’t make sense. Did it?

  “Can you under—” Her throat contracted. “Can you understand me?”

  If he/it did, the cougar gave no indication. She didn’t know whether to study its expression, mouth, or legs. Neither did she know what to do with the overwhelming sense of being trapped.

  The terror she’d been battling pushed up from her belly to spread over her throat. Fighting soul-deep fear, she ground her teeth together. She’d never been a coward, a crier, or a screamer, not even the day she’d found her father’s bloodied and broken body. If she gave in to any of those things now, they’d overwhelm her.

  “I knew—earlier I sensed what was going to happen. At least that something would.” That said, she didn’t know how to go on.

  She’d thought Hok’ee was beautiful. If anything, the predator he’d become was even more so. Yes, the cougar was too large for the space, which was more than disconcerting, but she couldn’t help but admire its graceful yet strangely designed form. She understood the need for powerful hindquarters, but why hadn’t the predator been designed with a head in proportion to the rest of its body. And that oversized tail—

  You’re losing it.

  “What do you want from me?” The moment she asked her question, she wished to hell she hadn’t. The thick tail was working back and forth as it had in her imagination, or whatever had taken place on their way here. The expressive ears twitched, and it lifted its head so they were looking eye to eye.

  This incredible place Hok’ee had called his home was locked in shadow, but she now saw something in the pale feline eyes that reminded her of the man. He wasn’t gone after all, not completely. Some remnant of him, hopefully his intellect and compassion—not that she’d seen much of that—remained.

  “I don’t know how to reach you. I want to, but I don’t know what words to use.”

  The cougar blinked, slow, measured. Then its muscles contracted, tightened, gathered. She’d opened her mouth to scream when it sprang. Instead of attacking her, it raced toward the opening and disappeared.

  Come back! Please, come back.

  Kai had lost track of time. Her world went no further than her weary legs and the strain in her arms. She could hear the wind push against some bushes just beyond where she’d been left to hang, but that was the only sound. Much as she’d wanted to call out for help, she hadn’t because she was afraid only the cougar would hear.

  A cougar! The man disappeared and a predator—

  How long before it returned, and what would happen when it did? No matter how many times she tried to deny the questions, they kept pounding at her. Well, why shouldn’t they? It wasn’t as if she had anything else to think about, and there was nothing she could do.

  He/it would return. It made no sense for Hok’ee to have gone to the effort he had, only to abandon her. Of course if the cougar refused to relinquish control—

  Stop it! Just the hell stop it!

  Hok’ee had given her all the water she wanted, and he’d gone to the effort and care to tie her hands in front, thus allowing her a more natural stance. She kept telling herself that echoes of him had remained in the cougar. She just wished she fully believed that.

  She was hungry, had to go to the bathroom, and might kill if that’s what it took to get a massage. Damn it, his jeans with her pistol in a pocket were so close. If she could get her hands on the weapon, a great deal would change. Granted, she was loopy, but the more she thought about it, the easier it was to contemplate murder in exchange for a massage. Granted, such creature comforts were in short supply here, but since the fantasy was all she had between herself and insanity, she’d turn it in whatever direction she needed.

  That was her fantasy, but she was in Hok’ee’s home.

  She should have realized where she was before now. Much as her surroundings resembled a cave, it was more than that, much more. To begin, she’d studied the exterior as she was being led into it. She’d seen the stone slabs that made up the walls, slabs that had been set in place thousands of years ago.

  The Anasazi were responsible! Those long-dead and almost mystical people had created multi-storied tower houses during what historians called the Great Pueblo period. Most of those unique structures had given way to time and weather, but a few remained.

  Canyon De Chelly had become a national landmark because of places like Mummy Cave, Antelope House, and Junction House, all incredible ruins left behind by the Anasazi. With
her father, she’d photographed, studied, and touched the monuments. They became more than structures to her, more than testaments to The Ancient Ones. They were life, albeit frozen in time.

  And now she had proof that what had made Canyon De Chelly rich also existed in Sani, or should she say Tochona. University staff had been thrilled with the kiva the hikers had found, and had hoped to find other Navajo artifacts, but this—this was magical and mystical. Maybe there was more than this single space. Maybe it was part of an apartment complex.

  Excitement caught her unawares. For a few moments she forgot what had been done to her, and what lay ahead. If only her father were alive. Not only would he share her awe, he’d know how to protect what remained of The Ancient Ones.

  Damn you, Dad. Why’d you go and get yourself killed? I need you now, maybe more than I did after Mom died.

  A sound. Soft.

  Her thoughts shattering, she faced the entrance. Something was coming toward her, but she couldn’t be sure what. Either that or she was putting off facing reality for as long as she could.

  Home, she thought. Home was wonderful! Granted, a leased condo without a square inch of lawn to call her own was far from a palace, but it was her space. She could lock the doors and shut out the world.

  Not a cougar. A man. Hok’ee. Taking one slow step at a time. Coming closer. Naked and shoeless, a thin, bloody scratch along his belly.

  Relief warred with tension and cut a line from her throat to her crotch as he straightened and fixed his gaze on her. Insanely, she wished she’d combed her hair and put on something decent. Then she remembered he’d taken away her shirt and bra, that he wanted her like this. Tied. Waiting.

  He smelled of energy, of excitement, reminding her of the year the college softball team she’d been on took the state championship. They’d gone undefeated, each game filled with determination. She’d lived for early morning practices, late night strategy sessions, the feel and smell of her glove and the power that ran from her bat to her hands. A single up the middle with a teammate on third had been as good as sex, while a home run put every climax she’d ever had to shame.

  That’s what Hok’ee was feeling; the scratch told her why. As a cougar, he’d killed.

  Let me go, she wanted to say, but she wouldn’t beg. Instead, maybe because she was feeding off his emotion, she refused to back away. He was all fierce power; she wanted to be the same. His gaze raked her from the top of her head to her toes. It lingered first on her breasts and then the space between her legs. Her nipples puckered, and something that wasn’t quite pain brought tears to her eyes. Wet heat sealed her panties to her cunt. The time of waiting was over. He’d soon take what he wanted from her.

  In a space created by the ancients.

  Fight. Give in. Whatever her decision, the outcome would be the same.

  Pinpricks danced over her skin, making her squirm. Maybe she was fighting herself when she tugged against her bonds; maybe she was assuring herself that she’d remain where he wanted her until he wanted something different.

  Taken against her will? Maybe. Maybe not.

  Naked with dark eyes, hair, and skin, he was more than beautiful, beyond magnificent. Every one of his two hundred pounds spoke of male animal, yet he was human—at least right now he was.

  “Where have you been?” she asked. Her voice rasped, forcing her to swallow.

  “Hunting.”

  The clean admission caught her off guard. She didn’t know what she’d expected, certainly not this truth.

  “You were successful?”

  “Yes.”

  If she asked more questions, would he tell her all the gory details? Knowing she wasn’t ready for that, she simply nodded. It was funny in a bizarre way. Here she was strung up and waiting for whatever he had in mind, but pushing him like some nosy wife, demanding to know why her old man had been out all night.

  Seeming not to care that she was watching his every move, he reached up and untied the rope over her head. Sighing in relief, she let her arms drop. Her shoulders ached but not as much as her legs did. How long had it been since she’d been allowed to sit?

  Allowed?

  How long then until she had control over her body back?

  “Take off your jeans.”

  “What?” she stammered.

  “Either you do it, or I will.”

  Fuck you! Knowing better than to engage in a tug of war, she didn’t try to jerk the rope out of his hand. But neither was she going to go down without a fight. Squaring her tired shoulders, she glared at the man who exuded pure sex.

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I. Look, Hok’ee, I have no intention of—”

  “How do you know my name?”

  “How—” she started, then stopped. If she told him about her dream, he’d think she was either crazy or lying, but she’d gotten his name right, and he couldn’t deny that. “There’s something about me you need to know,” she said, although she was far from sure she was doing the right thing. “I have this ability to—I can read minds.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I don’t blame you, but I’m serious. I’m a psychic, for lack of a better word.”

  “A what?”

  “I can get into minds. Only it’s animal thoughts I reach, not human.”

  The way he kept shaking his head, she knew he hadn’t bought her explanation, not that she blamed him.

  Neither of them speaking, she took stock of her world and the man dominating it. He couldn’t have exemplified sex any more if the word had been tattooed to his chest. She’d seen men like that before, of course, raw and rugged. To her way of thinking, too many women didn’t care whether those studs had anything between their ears as long as the package from the neck down was damn near perfect. Granted, a lot of those men were the product of Hollywood or some advertising machinery, although there’d been a handful of jocks who’d flip-flopped her belly. He was the real deal, rough around the edges, and dangerous as hell. What did he care about laws or social conventions?

  Nothing. Because he was more than human.

  Quick as a striking snake, he hauled her to him, turning her from him at the same time. She was still trying to make sense of what he’d done when he pushed her against the wall and held her in place via a forearm to the back of her neck. Pent-up power flowed from him to her, and when he went to work one-handed on her wrists, she knew better than to test his self-control. He freed one hand, only to wrench it high behind her back. Then he let go of her neck so he could bring the other hand up to the first. A handful of seconds, and her arms were lashed behind her again.

  Then he stepped back. Holding her breath, she faced him.

  “I gave you a chance to comply.” His eyes daring her to argue, he grabbed her waistband and deftly unhooked the fastening. “Now we’ll do it my way.”

  “We’ve done it your way from the beginning,” she said in a tone better suited on a small child.

  “Not me. What I’ve become.”

  A world of regret, accompanied the simple words. If she could have escaped at this moment, she wasn’t sure she would have. Her world had shifted and changed form because of him. Because of him, she wasn’t the same person she’d been this morning.

  Hands on her shoulders again, and she was being spun so her back was to him. Waiting and wondering. Not afraid so much as alive. Hotly alive.

  Then he took hold of her hands and forced them up until she had to lean forward. He easily kept her off balance and her arms high, reinforcing his mastery as he unzipped her jeans. Reaching around her, he dug into her rear pockets for her cell phone and digital camera, which he dropped to the ground. Had he broken them?

  Snagging her waistband once more, he first worked the denim down over her hips, then her buttocks. He settled the jeans around her knees and then did the same to her panties. Apparently satisfied, he released her wrists and let her straighten.

  She was free of him, not that it made any difference. Where was
she going to go with her hands tied behind her and her clothing roping her legs?

  “I wasn’t defying you,” she started, then stopped. If she began apologizing now, how long before he’d stripped her down to nothing. She had to stay strong somehow. Only what did it matter, since he in essence owned her?

  Crouching in that graceful way of his, he loosened her boots and tugged them off one at a time while she struggled to remain on her feet. He did so in such a matter-of-fact way that it took a moment for reality to settle in. Barefoot meant she stood no chance of outrunning him. He’d as good as hobbled her. Mentally cursing his seemingly indestructible feet, she acknowledged how easily she’d accepted his nudity. Well, why shouldn’t she? His body was his tool, whether he was man or cougar.

  “What do you want from me?” she asked. He’d stood and stepped away so he could do what he’d already done too many times, study her. Was he seeing an ordinary woman, a captive to play with, to fuck when and how often he wanted? Or was there more to this kidnapping?

  Either he hadn’t been listening when she asked her question, or he had no intention of explaining. Fine, fine. She’d learn moment by moment, and step-by-step.

  And when she’d understood everything there was to know, who and what would she be?

  “You’re thirsty,” he said.

  “Yes,” she admitted. “And I have to go to the bathroom.”

  “Hmm.”

  He was still staring at her, damn him, his gaze washing over her every inch until she half-believed he could see her swollen bladder. Always a private person when it came to bodily functions, she now stood barefoot with her belly, crotch, and buttocks exposed. And her breasts. Don’t forget her breasts.

  She was melting, becoming insignificant and losing substance. Every bit of her was or could be under his scrutiny. She had no secrets left, no way of hiding her reddish pubic hair or the slightly smaller left breast.