CAT SHIFTERS OF AAIDAR: ENDINGS

by Laney Kaye

  “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

  “This is not all about you.”

  “Never thought it was.” He smirked. “But I believe I’ve got my work cut out for me. Always did love a challenge.”

  His cock probed and he shifted his hips, settling his rod between my thighs, where it poked at my entrance.

  “You’re awfully big,” I said. “I’m not sure it’s going to fit.”

  “I love how you talk dirty.”

  I ground my teeth together. “Jag!”

  “Yes, like that. Beg for it.”

  “Never.” My words said one thing, but my body told me another. His cock nudging toward my slit felt…awesome. Like it would fit.

  “Just so you know,” he said, affecting a high-pitched, fake voice, like a teen girl on a first date. “I’m not delivering the full package until after we kiss.”

  “Then you’ll never be delivering your full package, because we’re not kissing.”

  “That works for me. There’s more than one way to skin a cat, so to speak.”

  This…moment was solely to complete the Dragarian bond. Why, then, did it feel like so much more?

  His fingers traced along my breasts again, and my breath caught.

  He smiled, confident in what he did to me. To my body.

  If only I could hold back revealing this needy part of myself. But I couldn’t resist. It felt good, and his touch made me want more.

  Kissing along my jaw again, he moved down to my neck. My collarbone. Running his tongue across where it jutted out. Biting down, though not hard enough to break the skin.

  Shock and need and pleasure soared through me, and I lifted my hips, not fully aware of what I sought.

  When his lips moved to my breast and he sucked in my nipple, I released a little shriek.

  He hummed, the vibration making my nipple harden further. Electricity shot from my breast to my groin, and the heat of this—of him—made me shift with impatience.

  While I shook and squeezed my eyes tight, his calloused fingers slid across my belly, which quivered. He nudged my thighs apart and delved into that secret place no man had touched before.

  Jag slid his finger down my slit, returning me to the present with a sharp jolt. I gasped as he pinched the bud at the top. As he rubbed and twisted while stroking my nipple with his tongue, I cried out, my voice sharp and shrill and needy.

  He slid a finger inside me.

  “Fuck,” he said hoarsely. “Wet.” His finger moved, sliding in and out slowly, as if he tested the fit. Tested me.

  I couldn’t help it. While I wanted to lie still, take myself away, I was becoming completely involved in the present. Moaning, I bucked against his finger thrust and prayed it would never end.

  He tucked two fingers inside me and pumped. The stretch was more exquisite than a desert sunrise, but also painful. Somehow, the mix became ecstasy.

  Pulling his hand back, he shoved his fingers back inside, faster, all while teasing my clit with his thumb, and my nipple with his mouth.

  Gasping, grinding up to his touch, I bent my knees and spread my legs wide. I invited him to do everything.

  I wouldn’t stop him now, even if I could. I wanted this. Needed it like nothing else. Raw emotion pulled me down.

  It beat at the walls I’d erected around my heart.

  He kissed his way down my belly while his fingers moved inside me. In and out. Pushing and rubbing. Driving me insane.

  He crouched between my legs and shoved my thighs farther apart. Breathing feverishly, he pulled his fingers out and licked them. “Sweet as feyran, but more potent than tamus weed. And, for tonight, you’re all mine.”

  I shouldn’t thrill to the possession in his voice. He was right. This was temporary.

  He parted me with his fingers, and his hot breath jolted up my spine. But when he took my clit between his teeth and tugged, I shot my hips up and screamed.

  “Oh, Gods.” My voice should not sound this unrestrained.

  “Had a feeling you’d like oral,” he murmured. “Want a taste of more?”

  I must be wanton, because the word ripped from inside me. “Yes!”

  He took my clit inside his hot mouth and hummed again. The vibration…

  Releasing me, leaving me gasping, he licked along my opening, then drove his tongue inside while rubbing me, teasing me. Driving me closer to something I’d never experienced before.

  “Jag!”

  “I want to see and feel you come in my mouth.”

  He took my clit between his teeth again and shoved his fingers deep inside, until he couldn’t go any farther. He slid them out, stroking me. And pumped them back hard.

  “Yes,” I panted, thrashing on the bed. I’d never…This wasn’t…I couldn’t think.

  His mouth flicked and bit and sucked, while his fingers drove faster.

  I wanted all of it. All of him. Shoving himself inside me.

  An inferno built within me until nothing existed outside Jag’s mouth. The slide of his fingers and tongue.

  I tensed.

  “Yes,” he murmured. “Let go. Give it to me.”

  As he sucked on me, heat waves slammed through my body.

  I lifted my hips and ground against him as he ate me.

  And my voice—guttural and deep—screamed Jag’s name.

  Chapter Five

  Jag

  So, I’d got her screaming for me. Awesome, but no first there.

  Those other firsts, though?

  Fuck me.

  And my reaction to them?

  Double fuck me.

  And speaking of doubles; double bonds. Dragarian pair-blade and Felidaekin bondmate.

  Was that even possible? It shouldn’t be. And no way in hells was I risking it. My lips were getting nowhere near Aren’s—at least not those lips—despite the urging of the first bond. The Dragarian bond I could ignore: it was nothing but a means to an end, getting us into the compound to prevent the annihilation of the Resistance. If we failed, there’d be a war larger than the galaxy had ever seen, courtesy of the Regime’s plans to create a shifter-DNA-enhanced army.

  Thanks to the mind-altering hormonal surge of that first Felidaekin bond, though, the more Aren insisted that the Dragarian bond was all we could have, the more my body insisted I wanted more. Lucky my brain was in charge of both of my heads.

  As Aren’s tense thighs fell away from where they’d reflexively clamped against my cheeks, I drew back a little, tracing my finger through the glistening juice coating her pussy. The room was heavy with the musk of her pleasure, and she quivered beneath my light touch, exquisitely sensitive. Damn, I wanted in there. I blew softly over her engorged womanhood, a hungry growl rising in my throat as she moaned in response. Yeah, end-of-the-worlds kind of moment, and all I could think was that I wanted her. More of her. All of her. The Felidaekin bond, or whatever version came with the mating of an Aaidarian and a Glian—or an Aaidarian and a part-Dragarian, I guess, given Aren’s heritage—had to be responsible for the lapse in my military focus.

  Gods knew, with that diversified blood line, our cubs would be healthy.

  I reared back from her, irritated by my uncontrollable thoughts. Jaguarkin did not bond. In fact, bonding was rare for any Felidaekin in my generation. The concept was a memory that belonged to the old-timers, one I’d always suspected they embellished and romanticized.

  But this planet seemed to create anomalies. Herc, Leo, Khal, Spike, and me had served all over the galaxy, yet on this barren desert world, four of us had found our fated mates.

  Wait. Why the hell had I included myself in that group?

  I clenched my jaw, chewing on the fact like a piece of gristle. That’s exactly what it was: a fact.

  Aren and I had bonded.

  But no way in hell would I permit the second phase, let alone the third.

  I ran a hand down the smooth plane of Aren’s thigh, the skin almost a soft lilac with the purple veins coursing beneath it. I
hungered for her, a growling lust urging me to take her.

  Damn bonding urge.

  Maybe it was created by some deep, primeval knowledge? Something in our DNA, responding to the ever-smaller population of our own planet, that drove us to seek mates from elsewhere, to diversify our genetics and protect our bloodline?

  Whatever, later I could spend hours trying to fathom what it was that made us respond to the women on this planet, but right now it was a bit hard to keep my gray matter on track. My brain was focused on one thing; I wanted to fuck Aren. I wanted to brand her, I wanted her to understand that she was mine.

  In a purely carnal way, that is.

  Not mine to love, mine to protect, mine to mate. Hells, never any of that.

  Though, given the way my heart—an organ I would’ve argued twenty minutes ago didn’t even exist—kicked like a pillion at the thought of her heading into danger in the Regime compound, it was lucky the final bond was Aren’s to request. The first bond was the touch of a fated mate. The second would be a kiss, which would entwine our hearts. But the third bond, the irrevocable joining of our souls for eternity, was forged by sex. And that lovemaking had to be initiated by the woman, the bearer of the Felidaekin future. While Aren was willing to fuck me for the sake of her blade-bond, she’d made it clear that she’d never kiss me, so our hearts would not be tied. The third bond could not form without the second.

  No kissing didn’t mean my lips couldn’t touch her absolutely everywhere else, though. I pressed my mouth to the inside of each of Aren’s thighs, grinning as she jerked reflexively at my touch. Her fingers found my head, exploring the tips of my new ears. I angled toward her, trying to imagine a caress in the touch—yet thirty minutes ago, I’d have run from the room, dragon spines, giant ears, and gods-only-knew what else they’d done to me, if anyone had suggested the idea of bonding.

  Hells, thirty minutes? That was plain embarrassing. I’d have to give Aren more than that if we were to ignite the pair-blades.

  Pushing up onto my forearms, I glanced toward where the blades lay on the slab of rock that served as a side table. To a human, they should have been almost invisible in the gloom of the cave. I’d muted the halolights to their dim, orange night-glow, just enough for humans to evacuate the cave system in the event of an attack, so Aren wouldn’t see my modifications so clearly. But Felidaekin had superior vision.

  Except I didn’t need great eyesight right now. I swallowed a groan, growling instead, as my gaze lit on the blades. Hells, Aren had said I’d need to orgasm, and I was sure looking forward to that, yet my blade—Tracin’s—already glowed a dull blue.

  Maybe I shouldn’t mention it to Aren? She lay beneath me, her chest heaving, her cheeks flushed. Her elongated eyes slitted to reveal only a sliver of teal, I couldn’t tell if she watched me.

  There was so much more I could show her, if we had time. So much more I wanted to show her. I could make that blade glow a whole lot brighter.

  But we had a world to save.

  I hauled off her and sat on the edge of the bed. This was no time to let lust—or this mistaken bonding—interfere.

  I’d knocked the pillion hide cover to the floor. As Aren reached for it, I retrieved the rough blanket, handing it to her. She wound the hide quickly around herself, swinging her legs from the bed in a fluid movement, as though she was in a hurry to leave the scene.

  “Oh!” Her fingers twitched toward the blades. “It worked already. It obviously doesn’t need…what I thought.”

  “You sound disappointed.” Or maybe my ego was fooling me. Bonds aside, I’d sure as hell like Aren to find me memorable.

  “Not disappointed. A little sad, maybe.”

  I cocked an eyebrow, the skin pulling tight across my temple to the new ears that I’d have to force myself to look at, at some stage. “Really?”

  “For Tracin. He gave me his sacred bond in order to protect me, yet here I am, trying to trick the bond into believing that you’re him. I’m not sure…not sure it’s right.” Her teeth gouged at her lower lip, and a tense line marred her smooth brow.

  I ruffled a hand through my hair, startled again to find it a short fade, instead of brushing my shoulders. Oh, yeah, it was probably white, too, if the witch had done her job. Was that the only reason Aren tolerated me? Because I looked like her dead husband?

  I shrugged away the thought and stood, dragging on my pants. “The way I see it, several million people across the galaxy are going to say it was the right choice. Providing we get into the compound and get hold of that communicator.” I resisted an urge to sweep the blades to the floor as I picked up the com unit lying alongside them. “I’ll check in with the Cap.”

  Herc answered my buzz immediately. “Jag. How’re you feeling?”

  Screwed. But I was pretty sure that wasn’t what he meant. “Like I’m gonna live.” I maneuvered my shoulders cautiously. While I’d been between Aren’s thighs, it’d been easy enough to ignore my modifications, but now the ridge of spines down my back pulled tight and heavy, like I lugged a backpack with a months’ worth of ops gear onboard. “Fine, Cap. Good to go. We got a plan?”

  “The…procedure…worked, then?”

  “Seems to have.”

  “You found a looking glass? Maya keeps one over in that sectioned-off corner, to the left of the bed. You’re in for a bit of a shock.” He chuckled, but I could hear relief in his voice. Fine to make fun of me, as long as I was alive.

  “Not in any hurry to do that.” I wasn’t vain, but I had no need to find out what the man Aren had loved looked like.

  “Fair enough. Well, if you’re up and about, come meet us in the chow house on level two. It’ll be your last chance for a decent feed for a while.”

  Damn, he was right. In giant cat form, it was a long haul to traverse the inhospitable terrain between the Resistance’s hidden headquarters and the compound. On two legs, Aren and I would move at the rate of a swamp-slag. Shifting wasn’t an option, or I’d undo all the witch’s handiwork.

  I rubbed a hand along my jaw, then froze. “Fuck me,” I groaned.

  Herc snorted. “I’m going to assume you’re not speaking to me. Should I also assume you’re not ready to join us?”

  Hand still on my jaw, I swiveled to look at Aren, who’d pulled her gown back on, and somehow managed to look cool and regal, not in the least like I’d given her the first orgasm of her life. “Scales? Tell me these aren’t fucking scales?” I slapped my palm against my jaw.

  To my surprise, a glint of humor danced in Aren’s eyes. “I can tell you that, but I’d be lying.”

  “I’m a giant lizard?”

  The smile tilted up the corner of her mouth.

  The mouth I wanted to kiss. Fuck.

  No. I ground my teeth together, fighting the urge of the bond.

  Seemed the urge didn’t hit her as bad. Her smile became a grin. “Not a lizard with those ears.”

  I shook my head, and turned my attention back to the com unit. “On our way, Cap.”

  As I disconnected, Aren picked up the blades, passing me the duller one. “You need to strap it to your thigh. It can never be more than an arm’s distance from you. Not while one of us lives.”

  As I bent to strap it, my back spasmed, and I grunted.

  “Let me.” Aren dropped gracefully to her knees, buckling the leather tight around my thigh.

  I stared at the ceiling and tried to think of Aaidar. Did Harangan arithmetic in my head. Counted the drips of the water running down the wall. Anything rather than acknowledge where her mouth was right now.

  She rose lithely and picked up her own blade.

  I held out my hand for it. “Let me.” My voice came out hoarse as I repeated her offer. Yeah, so much for sounding cool. I cleared my throat.

  She flashed me a grin, though color suddenly rode high in her cheeks. “Dry mouth?”

  “Got a fix for it?”

  “Sure.”

  I immediately took a half step toward her, but she
nudged her chin toward a water pitcher on my side of the bed. Clearly, she was all business. But some of her abrasiveness had seemed to melt away. I guess, given the heat we’d generated a few minutes ago, that was entirely understandable.

  As I reached for her blade, to strap it to her thigh, she reflexively jerked it away, then frowned. “Sorry. No one should touch it except…well,” her face creased in puzzlement. “Well, except you, I guess. Once the blades are paired, only the mated should touch them. But it seems odd to think that’s you, not Tracin.”

  She might as well stab me with the damn thing. Hells, I didn’t need to be bonded to be pissed at coming in second to some other guy. Especially a dead dude. “You really loved him, huh?”

  “I did.” The teal eyes flashed at me from behind a dark fringe of lashes. “But maybe not in the way you’re thinking. Come on.” She strode from the room.

  What? Wait, she dropped a line like that, and then left?

  By the time I’d located my shirt beneath the tumbled blankets, then awkwardly contorted to draw it over my aching shoulders, she was out of sight. Any other time, I’d have headed out without bothering about covering up, but last thing I needed was the guys staring at my newly-enhanced spine before I’d found the guts to look at it myself.

  Aren had already taken a seat in the chow house, safely alongside Janie at the scrubbed cucua wood bench. Though the rest of the hall was empty, the only vacant position at our crowded table was at the opposite end.

  I slid onto the seat, grateful it didn’t have a back, and reached for the mug of watered-down benna, brewed from the crops surrounding the aquifer, that Leo shoved toward me. Everyone had fallen silent at my entry. “What?” I growled.

  Maya pushed a morsel of braised pillion around her plate, not meeting my gaze, and seeming almost shy. “You just look…so different.”

  “Not to her.” I jerked my head toward Aren.

  My new—reluctant—bondmate shook her head. “No. You are different. You’re not Tracin.”

  “Fabulous. You mean all this was for nothing.” The drink slopped as my fingers unintentionally nudged the prominent, unfamiliar, ungiving texture of the scales on my chin.