by A. C. Arthur
Tearing his lips away momentarily, he murmured, “You should trust me because I’m the only one that can make you feel like this.” Not waiting for another reply, his lips crashed down on hers again.
He was trying to devour her, to capture every nuance of her taste, her scent, anything he could grasp, before it was too late. Inside was like a vicious storm, twisting and turning, sending mixed signals and some that were loud and clear. Those, the ones that blasted in his mind, repeatedly pushing, urging, were the ones he had no choice but to act on right now.
His hands cupped her ass, palming and squeezing the generous globes tightly. She gasped and arched her back and struggled with the urge to rip off the clothes she’d just put back on. Instead, he continued kissing her, running his tongue and teeth along the fresh-scented skin down her neck. At some point she’d pulled her arms from his grasp, lifting them to wrap around his neck tightly. She held on as he took the first steps that would end when he had her back against the wall. Her hungry mouth found his and once more their tongues dueled, reuniting in a connection that threatened to scorch his very being. Slipping a hand around to the front of her pants he unbuttoned them, urgently pressing his hand down, past her panties until her warmth and dampness greeted him.
Ezra growled as his fingers slid through the drenched lips of her pussy, loving the feel of her tightened bud beneath his fingers. But he needed more and he needed it now. He pressed farther until two of his fingers sank into her waiting heat. Farther and farther he inserted his fingers, until her essence dripped down onto his hands. She’d bucked in his arms, rotating her hips as if sending him a message. But there had been no need, Ezra and his cat knew exactly what she wanted. The darkness within him, the part of him that Ezra wanted to stay far away from her, also knew what she wanted and planned on being the first to take her there this go-around.
He wasn’t about to let that happen.
He pumped his fingers inside her faster, deeper, loving the little jerks of her body at the motion, the sound of his name so quiet on her lips. Damn, but he loved the feel of her so tight and hot, sucking his fingers inside hungrily. Her legs were clasped around him, his other hand still cupping her delicious ass. His teeth chattered with his need for her and in the next instant he’d pulled his hand from between her legs, pushing them down so that her feet now touched the floor. He didn’t waste a second but pushed her pants and those cute little shoes off her feet. Freeing his rigid cock, Ezra had her legs around his waist once more as he slid his dick into her slickness.
She accepted him without qualm, her blunt nails digging into his shoulders. Ezra pumped and pumped, pressing deeper inside of her and trying to go farther still, to thrust until their bodies were as one. He realized in that moment how much he needed the connection.
“When it begins to awake again, which it will, there’s only one thing that can quiet that hunger,” Dagar had told Ezra and Eli as they’d both knelt before him that long-ago night in the forest. At the time they’d had no idea what the old shaman was telling them, how genuine the warning would turn out to be.
That night their chests heaved, palms splayed flat on their naked thighs. They’d both decided that they needed this relief. In order to stay and complete their training after Acacia’s betrayal was known and their grandfather had been thoroughly embarrassed by their actions, they’d had to find a way to stop the desire and the pain that denial ultimately caused them.
Despite the warning they’d decided anything was better than this sexual hell that kept them from focusing totally on their training and their future. They’d been so young and so caught in Acacia’s web of desire that they had almost lost track of their true purpose. Angry and embarrassed by her debauchery and determined to make amends to their grandfather, they knew Dagar was the only option.
The shaman’s potion had helped, the heavy smoke they’d inhaled had given them instant relief, but at what cost?
For years it had lain dormant, but the darkness that had dwelled within Ezra during their stay in the jungle had been steadily rising within from the moment he’d decided to come to Sedona. It had been growing more restless, taking Ezra from the well-trained guard that he was, to a volatile shifter, disrespecting his commanding officers and capable of viciously killing anything or anyone that got in his way. As scenes from the night Acacia was killed flashed through his mind, Ezra knew he could not mate Jewel, he could not put her in harm’s way.
At the same time he could not walk away. Everything about her called to him—her strength, her resiliency, her scent that permeated every crevice of his being, filtering through his body like a drug.
Thoughts volleying back and forth in his mind, Ezra pulled out of Jewel’s sweet clutches. He set her on her feet, then ushered her over to the bed where he attempted to lower her down onto it, to lift her hips and enter her from behind. He could do this. He’d done it before with other females that he desired. He could fuck them and keep all the emotional crap wrapped securely in a bundle that nobody would ever touch.
Ezra couldn’t mate her if he couldn’t look into her eyes, those damning eyes that belonged to her, not the contacts she’d worn since the first day he met her. That’s where it was for him, he’d known that all his life, the eyes were gateways to the soul and mating, for Ezra, mating was all about claiming the other person’s soul as your own. Being a total part of them and giving the same of yourself in return.
He couldn’t, no he wouldn’t, do that to Jewel, no matter how much his cat disagreed.
She went totally still standing next to the bed, shaking her head adamantly.
“No,” she said licking her lips and looking up to him defiantly. “Not like that.”
“I want you like that,” was his desperate reply, his dick pulsating with the building need for release.
“I won’t,” she told him, backing away.
She looked so vulnerable in her wrinkled shirt and nothing else. Her nipples were hard, poking through the cotton material and the thin wisp of satin that was her bra. Her legs were slightly parted, thick thighs that he knew were soft and pliant when rubbing against his, leading to a neatly shaved patch of curls at her juncture.
Ezra’s mouth watered, his hand instantly going to his dick, still damp from her thick juices.
“Let me see you,” he said, his voice gruff, his hand jerking the length of his cock, rubbing his thumb over the bulbous head.
The temperature in the room had skyrocketed, sweat now beading his forehead as his breathing came in quick pants. The scent of her essence, the thought of what it would look like, drops of dew on the plump folds of her pussy, had him licking his lips. The hunger increased, the cat roared angrily, and the man reached helplessly for a lifeline.
“No,” was her slow, soft reply.
“Lie down on the bed, spread your legs, and let me see you,” he stated, that dark part of him ignoring her answer. “I need to see you, now!”
Jewel shook her head. She pulled at the hem of her shirt, trying ineffectively to cover her nakedness. “No! I don’t take commands from your or any other man!”
She moved then, kneeling on the floor to grab her pants and underwear while Ezra swayed on his feet, still jerking himself off. “Jewel,” the man called to her, his voice sounding as if he were in pain. “Please, I … need … you.”
She’d just pulled on her panties when he said those last words. Pausing, she looked at him, coming closer to stare into his eyes.
“What’s the matter with you?” she asked. “What? Oh my god, no.”
She backed away and Ezra panicked. “Please, don’t … go,” he whispered, his throat dry, his tongue ready to loll at its need to touch her skin, to lick her release until she screamed.
“No,” she whispered, her head shaking, her hands trembling as one came to her neck, fluttering down to where her heart would be. “Not here, not now,” she continued.
“Please,” he begged.
“Don’t,” she replied. “Please, don�
�t.”
Ezra was losing the battle, he knew it without doubt. The dark part of him wanted to fuck her. It wanted to lick her pussy from top to bottom, then sink deep inside her and thrust until it roared with pleasure. And then it would want to do it again, and again.
The man wanted to protect her, to keep her safe from Crowe and all that he would do to obtain her. He wanted to keep her from having to use a phony name and to live in hiding for the rest of her life.
As for the cat, it wanted to claim its mate. Plain and simple.
And that was what finally won out, the plain and the simple. The need to claim over all the other superficial issues. Ezra’s bones cracked, fur rippling over the surface of his bare skin so fast it felt like thousands of tiny bugs covering him at once. His head widened, nose and mouth forming just as he fell to his knees, the cat’s back arching as its front paws fell to the floor. Its mouth opened wide, the roar of dominance, of victory, of anger, echoing through the room.
Jewel screamed and then fainted.
Chapter 16
Havenway
Washington, D.C.
“I’m a shifter, just like you,” Rayna Corpeta said, letting her long legs uncurl to stand in front of Eli.
He knew that, could tell by the graceful way she moved, her long legs, toned and tanned as she approached him. Her hair was dark and long, twisted into some type of messy braid and hanging over her left shoulder. Long-lashed eyes blinked slowly as she watched him, hips swaying until she came to a stop just two feet away. She carried the scent of the jungle, primitive, yet arousing, clearly identifiable by another shifter.
Just two hours ago he’d heard from Nick that there were new recruits in the gym waiting for him. In desperate need of the distraction that training new shifter guards always brought him, Eli had left the dining hall and come straight here, only to be stopped short by this striking beauty as she’d lounged in the hallway just outside the gym. She’d been sitting on the floor as if it were the most comfortable lounge chair, her eyes fixed on the hallway from which he’d come. She’d been waiting for him.
That thought made him frown.
“Where are you from?” was his next question after he’d asked who she was. Nick hadn’t given names of the new recruits. In truth, the Lead Enforcer had seemed very distracted, which Eli knew could be contributed to the deteriorating health of his daughter.
Still, if she were at Havenway she had to be a shifter, or as of recently, the mate of a shifter, otherwise she wouldn’t be allowed inside the facility. She wouldn’t even know about the facility, if that were the case.
“The jungle. How about you?” she replied, her head tilting to the side, a smile creeping along her lips as she waited for him to respond.
She had the wrong shifter, because that definitely was not going to happen. Eli was all about business, especially when it came to women.
“Which tribe?” he continued, holding up a hand before she could answer. “Another flippant reply is not a smart move.”
He nodded when he was ready for her to speak and she arched a brow before answering. “I’m Lormenia. Why does it matter?”
So she hadn’t been flippant but she’d questioned him, her superior. Eli did not like disrespectful shifters, especially strangers. He’d worked long and hard to gain his position as Lead Guard of the East Zone Faction, and he wasn’t about to let some flighty female lose sight of that.
Eli took a step toward her, so close he could hear the pounding of her heart, even though her features gave away not an ounce of anxiety. Her hair smelled like orchids, wild West African orchids, the bright pink ones that grew down by the river. He remembered that scent, knew that never in a thousand years would he forget it, despite the shaman Dagar’s herbed inhalants. There was no forgetting for some shifters, no going back either.
“It matters because when a commanding officer asks you a question, you answer. No hesitation, no smart remarks, no lies. That, Rayna, is lesson one in your training,” he told her just before moving away from her and reaching to open the door to the gym.
“The next is to always be on time and be prepared. You can’t work out in that outfit.”
Eli hadn’t even bothered to look back at her. It would be in her best interest to be right behind him. The alert, stop, and stare that several of the guards already inside the gym directed his way said she was. She wore an outfit that was definitely fitting for her species—a black catsuit that hugged every angle of her body. Was she curvy in all the right places? Yes. Did the suit make a man want to fall to his feet and beg her to let him have her? Maybe. Was he affected in any way by her or her outfit? Only to the extent that he didn’t trust her. He didn’t trust any Lormenia from the Sierra Leone and never would.
* * *
“I cannot give you her name,” Croy DiLaurent told the very attractive female sitting with her legs spread wide in the chair at his kitchen table.
She’d been here when he’d arrived, already in his house, acting as if she lived here. The throbbing length of his cock pressing along his inner thigh was proof that the idea wasn’t such a bad one to his way of thinking. This was no beauty queen, not by a long shot. But she was pretty, in a very basic and earthy kind of way, her wide summer-blue eyes being her most intriguing feature. Her hair was just dark brown, her skin a little on the pale side, her lips plump and kissable. No, her allure was definitely in her body language, the normal yet highly seductive way she sat in the plain old wooden kitchen chair, one arm draped over the back, the other resting on her thigh. Her legs gaped open as if she’d forgotten she wore a dress, or maybe that was her purpose—to seduce him into providing the information she requested. If that was the case, Croy wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist. It felt like ages since he’d had a woman, other than the ones he watched on his videos. All his time was spent in that lab trying to get promoted beyond his lowly assistant status.
Today, however, even his depression about his job couldn’t dampen the sight of a living, breathing woman sitting in his kitchen. That thought alone made him forget that she’d broken into his place.
“Now, I know you’re a smart man, Croy. So you know that answer is just not acceptable to the people I work for,” she told him, the tip of a glossy red-painted nail rubbing along her bottom lip as soon as she finished speaking.
His mouth watered and he’d swear pre-juices were dripping from his dick as he watched that finger moving slowly along her plump lower lip. Coughing a little and slipping his hands into his side pockets to hopefully take the attention away from his growing arousal, Croy shook his head. “He didn’t give me a name,” he told her, sad that he couldn’t readily comply with her wishes. Damn, he’d give her anything if she’d just tell him to come closer so she could unzip his pants and take him willingly into her mouth. Fuck, he wanted to be buried deep inside her hot little mouth more than he wanted to breathe.
Instead she stood up, closing the distance between them until she was right up in his face, the finger that had just been on her lip now tapping his chin. Croy swallowed hard, blinking fast and trying like hell to keep his breathing as normal as possible.
“Who is he?” she asked, long lashes fanning over her cheeks as she blinked slowly at him.
She smelled like heaven, that was the only word he could come up with to describe the scent. Like sex and heaven and he feared he was going to actually come in his pants while standing this close to her. He swallowed and cleared his throat, trying like hell to think of the name, to hurry up and give her at least a little bit of what she wanted. That’s when her other hand slid down between their bodies, cupping his dick in her palm and squeezing.
Croy swallowed once again, then whispered, “Papplin.” The one word came out hoarsely and he licked his lips, touching the tip of her finger that had moved upward. His entire body tensed, his need so significant his brain throbbed like he might actually be having a stroke. “Dr. Frank Papplin,” he continued, sounding a little stronger this time. “I have his
cell number and his home address.”
The last made her smile grow broader and warmth melted in the center of Croy’s chest. “That’s my good boy,” she crooned, letting her finger slip deeper into his mouth, her other hand gripping and releasing his dick in regular intervals now. “Tell me everything you know about Dr. Frank Papplin and I’ll see that you’re rewarded.”
Croy’s next words came out like babbling baby talk but she must have understood just fine because she’d unzipped his pants and freed his raging hard cock, her warm fingers tightly wrapped around him.
And then he came.
Dammit.
Chapter 17
Jewel opened her eyes, blinked a few times, and tried to remain calm.
She’d seen him, or it, or whatever, she’d seen it right in front of her. The memory alone had her breath hitching and she fought for control, tried to take in measured gulps of air and to release them slowly. She closed her eyes again but saw eerie green ones staring back at her. Her lids shot open, wide enough that she figured maybe they wouldn’t close again and maybe she wouldn’t see those eyes again.
Then she heard it.
The muted type of grunt that she knew instinctively could have only come from an animal. Sitting up quickly on the bed, she slid all the way back until she was against the wall, pulling one of the flat pillows in front of her chest, clutching it for dear life. It—the animal—was across the room, near the door, lying on its side as if this cheap motel was the most natural place for it to be. It was big and black, glossy like mink, its eyes like emeralds, glistening, glaring. All around it on the floor the diamonds sparkled as if this were the perfect setting for a gorgeous photo op.
But it wasn’t.
She was in a ratty old motel room with a man that could also change into a cat. Jewel had lived at Perryville for three years, she’d heard and seen a lot of things. All of which had been the sole reason she’d gone there in the first place.
