by P. Jameson
His chest bowed out at her perusal, and a soft purr coated his throat.
Bravely she met his gaze. One more question, and then she was letting go of these last strands of uncertainty.
“Mine?” Her voice was so quiet it would take his feline ears to hear it, barely more than a breath.
“Yes, mate. Only yours. Never anyone else’s. Never again.”
In one step, he was to her, his hand curving around her breast reverently. Bailey watched, loving the way his lighter skin looked against her darker tone. He was honey and she was deep bronze, and his hands looked so damn good touching her like no man ever had before. Like she was cherished.
Wrapping one arm around her waist, he hauled her close and lowered his tongue to her taut nipple. His mouth on that tender spot felt like a sensual fire, and it was spreading. Over her chest where it branched off, one side zapping heat to her cheeks while the other arrowed straight between her legs.
Bailey moaned, unable to help herself, and Gash pulled back to draw in a deep breath.
“Aw, Bailey. You smell like miracles and desire, and I never want to forget this.”
She curved a palm around his cheek, the scarred one, letting their bond relay her feelings. “You won’t. Because this is just the beginning.”
His cat flickered behind his eyes and Bailey wondered if her tiger was doing the same.
“I’m going to mark you, Bailey. If you don’t want that, you have to tell me now because once I’m inside you, I don’t know if I can keep my cat from going all the way. I can’t imagine not making you mine for good.”
His words sounded like a threat, but Bailey wasn’t scared. Her tiger had been waiting for this, and she was ready. All she’d needed was his assurance that he was in this for the long haul. There would be details to work out in the future. Threats to deal with and hurts to heal. But not going forward now, when she knew how strongly Gash felt for her, how strongly she felt for him… well, it seemed wrong.
“I want that very much,” she whispered, tracing the scar on his cheek with her thumb.
With another soft growl, he captured her lips and twisted her around to land on the bed beneath him. His body was solid, anchoring her to the mattress for his attention. Her tiger writhed inside, anxious to feel all of him. Hungry open-mouth kisses made the trail across her jaw and down the column of her neck, between the valley of her breasts, and ended with a lick circling her belly button.
“Beautiful,” he breathed. “So beautiful.” He wasn’t talking to her though. More like he was mumbling to himself, unable to hold it back. “Have to see more of you.”
Rising up on his knees, he hooked his fingers in the waist of her leggings and tugged them over her hips, stalling with the fabric around her thighs. Underneath, she wore only a cotton thong—to avoid panty lines of course, but now with Gash staring down at her like she was a goddess, it made her feel sexy.
With one finger, he traced the edges where they dipped into the crease of her thighs. Stealthily, he tucked one finger under the fabric to touch her, his eyes fluttering shut when he felt the wetness he’d caused.
Bailey gasped, biting her lip to contain a moan, her hips pushing up to feel more of his touch. Jerking his hand from her panties, he brought it to his mouth and sucked.
“Yes,” he murmured, nodding like he’d come to a grave decision. “That’s mine, and I’m going to lick the fuck out of it.”
In the next breath, he’d ripped the thong away and peeled her leggings down to her ankles. It all happened so fast, Gash’s words had barely registered by the time he’d settled between her legs, shoulders braced under her thighs. His hands spreading her wide, his hot breath on her most sensitive parts, it was enough to drive her wild.
And that was when she heard it. The urgent purr vibrating her chest. Her tiger was so close, wanting her mate. Rabid for him.
Gash stared up at her from between her legs, his eyes going all cat for a brief moment. He let out a warning hiss, and then lowered his tongue, giving her a long lick up her center.
Bailey yelped at the sensation, and his mouth curved in a satisfied grin. “My tigress likes that,” he murmured.
“Yes, yes.”
Holding her quivering legs, he licked and sucked until she was breathless and straining for release. Then he surged up, taking her mouth again, his tongue diving in and shocking her with the taste of her own arousal.
Reaching between them, she searched out his erection, only to find the rough fabric of his jeans. Bailey’s turn to hiss. She wanted to touch him. Now. She’d shred the jeans. Her claws were out enough to do it. They’d cut through the fabric like butter, and then she’d have all of him.
Gash gave a sexy chuckle and pulled away to undo his belt. “Settle down, my tiger. Goddamn, your eyes are gorgeous like that.”
“Like what?” Oh no. That voice didn’t sound like her. It was too feral.
He eased his zipper down and drew in a hissed breath as he revealed his bulging erection. “Like you can barely hold your cat back. Out of control. I fucking love making you wild like this.”
Gash was thick, and straining as though he’d been ready for a long time. He held it at the base for her attention. Leaning forward, she wasted no time getting to know this part of him. She took him between her lips, sucking softly as her purr grew louder.
Gash’s jaw went slack while he watched her, eyes hooded, gently thrusting into her mouth. His hips barely moved and she could tell he had a stern grip on his control. It was impressive, but how long would it last, she wondered. She wanted to make him lose control too.
“Bailey,” he shuddered, his voice cracking.
She released him, and with a snarl, pushed up, forcing him back against the mattress. His eyes flew wide as she maneuvered his pants off and straddled his waist.
“Holy shit, woman,” he muttered. “I was trying to be gentle with you.”
Bailey shook her head. “I don’t need gentle.” She circled her hips over his hardness, teasing him with her folds while he slid a rough hand up to squeeze her breast. “Claim me. Give me your cat.”
She was relieved her voice had gone back to normal, and happy to see Gash’s eyes flickering from human to feline under his dark brows. He was a stunning male.
“Hard?” he asked, unsure. “You want it hard?”
“I want to know I’m yours. That you’re not holding anything back. And…” She hesitated with the last part. Maybe they weren’t ready for this. Maybe they weren’t this far into it. “I want everybody else to know it too.”
She went still, waiting for his answer, doubt lingering to creep back into her mind.
“Oh, they’re going to know, mate,” he growled. “I’m going to mark you up so good, there won’t be room for any doubt. One look at you and they’ll know you belong to me.”
With that promise, he gripped her waist and lifted her high before slamming her down on his erection.
All the air left Bailey, as Gash went eerily still, the moment of their connection suspended on her silent gasp. Seconds ticked by and he leaned up, pulling her face down for a deep kiss, but still he didn’t move inside her.
“Tight, Bailey,” he breathed. His chest moved shallowly. “Too tight. Won’t hurt you.”
But the initial shock was wearing away, and the fullness felt divine. And there was something else happening too. The bond. It was strengthening, becoming a solid tie between his heart and hers. Two fractured pieces becoming one unified miracle.
Bailey cradled his cheeks, millimeters from his lips, both of them, barely breathing. Eye to eye, communicating wordlessly, in that intense way of his. Except now she understood him.
The conflicts of his heart. Regrets from his past, and wanting a future with her so badly he could taste it, but never expecting it to happen. Fear that he’d put her in danger. Determination to be a good mate for her.
It was everything she could have asked for.
She moved on him, her hips inching back and
forth so he’d know she was okay. And he got the message, pushing off the bed to meet her thrusts. Careful at first, but when a moan of pleasure escaped her, he threw caution to the wind, his hips bucking in an urgent rhythm.
Bailey stared down between them. The sculpted ridges of his abs flexed with each push, meeting her soft curves but it didn’t seem like a mismatch to her now. They seemed perfect for each other. He was hard shell, soft center. She was soft on the outside, and tough where it counted. In spirit.
They complimented each other, the way true mates should.
Pleasure was building to a point where she couldn’t contain it. The fierce look on her mate’s face only added to the building bliss.
“Gash,” she groaned.
Moving at an inhuman speed, he flipped her onto her back, pinning her to the mattress with his hips.
“Say it again, sexy like that. I want to remember how it sounds.”
He swiveled his hips to encourage her cooperation.
“Gash,” she moaned again, so close to the edge her toes were hanging off ready to take on the freefall of her life.
“Fuck, yes.” Bracing one hand on the bed, he gripped her hip with the other and set a brutal pace, his gaze holding her prisoner the whole time.
She knew the moment it was too late to turn back. The bond snapped into place and she felt altogether vulnerable and safe. They were bare to each other in body and soul, and it was the single most wonderful feeling in the world.
Gash slowed, his face going dark. “The Alley Cats mark their mates on the cheek. I’m not going to do that to you, Bailey. I’m Ouachita now. I’ll mark you like a Ouachita cat.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but in a blink, she found herself back on top, straddling Gash while he kissed her lips hard. The kiss and his hips pushing into her tossed her into oblivion. Pleasure wracked her body, sending flutters to her middle that seemed endless.
“My Bailey,” he snarled desperately against her ear.
She felt the swipe of his claws at the same time his release flooded her with his unique scent, and groaned in delight at the finality of it.
Marked good, her tiger purred. So very good.
The sting of it was sharp, burning along her entire back, but it was quickly forgotten as another orgasm ripped through her, stronger than the first, leaving her limp with exhaustion.
His. So very his.
Bailey collapsed onto Gash’s chest, her hair falling over him in a tumble she wasn’t willing to sort out. And god, were those sounds coming from her? She snapped her mouth close and realized they were. Which brought on a round of giggles.
His chest pumped with heavy breaths, and his hand landed softly on her head. “Mate?”
“Mm hm?” she answered drowsily.
“Why are you laughing?”
Bailey sighed, unwilling to move away from him. If he wanted her to, he was going to have to physically move her.
“Because I’m happy,” she whispered.
His hand went still on her head. His breath stopped moving his chest. Bailey pressed a soft kiss to his sternum, and he breathed again.
“Good,” he rumbled, wrapping his arms tight around her. “Good.”
Chapter Seven
Gash laid still as possible, listening to Bailey’s soft snore. She definitely needed the rest after what they’d done. A grin lifted his cheeks. Oh, the things he’d done to her… it hardly seemed real. But the claw marks down her back were proof he wasn’t dreaming.
He’d double clawed her. Two broad slashes stretched from each shoulder to the opposite hip to form an X across her back.
X marks the spot.
She was his. He was mated. To the kindest, sweetest female. He couldn’t wait to make her a mother.
Careful, so he wouldn’t wake her, he traced the line of her back with his fingertips. She lay on her side, and her profile formed several mountains and valleys. Gash loved every single one. Every inch of her belonged to him, and he planned on worshipping her at any foreseeable opportunity.
He fingered her mating mark. It was huge, just like he promised. And wicked red now, but it would heal beautifully.
Gash swallowed the knot in his throat, but it didn’t stop the feeling growing in his chest. It was gratitude and relief and crippling fear all rolled into one. He wanted to tell someone—the fates, the creator, hell, maybe even God above if he existed—thank you.
Thames believed in God. Wanted a chapel to pray in. Maybe his brother had a good laugh at that, but lying here next to Bailey, Gash couldn’t blame the guy for believing. There had to be a higher power. How else was it possible for someone who’d done so much wrong to be given such a sweet gift?
Tears wet his eyes and he didn’t bother wiping them away.
What the hell could it hurt to believe? He had to tell someone, and why not Thames’s god. No one else would understand how much this meant to him.
“Thank you,” he whispered quiet enough not to wake her. The gratitude he felt couldn’t be squashed into those two words, but they’d have to do. “Now, if you don’t mind. Help me keep her safe.”
There. That felt better.
Gash pulled the sheet over them and pressed his body against hers, careful not to put pressure on her fresh mark. Feeling more peaceful than he had in ages, he drifted to sleep.
***
“One hundred and two, one hundred and three, one hundred and four…”
Adira rolled her eyes, grappling for patience. Nastia’s rock counting problem was going to be a challenge here in the Ouachitas. There were simply too many tempting little orbs for her to find.
They rounded a bend in the path, and she wondered how much farther until they reached the lodge. The kind man in town had guided them this way. Even brought them to the bottom of the hill. Lake Haven Lodge was the only thing at the end of this road, he’d said. Yet, they’d been walking for what seemed like hours and hadn’t arrived yet.
She glanced up to find the moon, but it hadn’t moved much from the last time she’d checked. Okay, so maybe it hadn’t been hours. Just seemed like it.
“One hundred and sixteen, one hundred and seventeen… ooooh!” Nasita bent to pick up an oddly shaped rock and held it in the air. “This one’s cute! Look, it’s shaped like a heart. I’m going to keep it for good luck.” She shoved it in the pocket of her frock and continued counting. “One hundred and eighteen, one hundred and nineteen…”
The only good news was she’d start over when she reached five hundred and eight. For some reason that was the magic number. They knew because she’d already restarted twice.
“Perhaps you could count in your head, instead,” Adira suggested.
“In fact, I dare you,” Mirena piped up. “A bet even. I bet you can’t do it quietly from here until the lodge. What do you say? If I win, you have to do my laundry for a week.”
“Nope,” Nastia said distractedly.
“Come onnnn,” Mirena urged. “Please? Please, please, please.”
Nasita sighed heavily, reaching over to smack Mirena square on the cheek. Hard, sending the sound of skin hitting skin reverberating throughout the forest. “Get a hold of yourself, woman,” she snapped. “We can’t be losing ourselves here. We must keep our minds.”
Mirena nodded, primly patting her black hair to make sure it was in place. “You’re right. Yes, you’re right. Thank you, sister.”
Nastia pressed her lips together benevolently. “You’re quite welcome.”
They continued walking and Nastia continued counting.
“But you could help me out by accepting my challenge. You know, it isn’t as easy for me to satisfy my curse as it is for you and Adira.”
It was true. Mirena was compelled to challenge people. Over the years, it had made her brave. But the other side of the coin required people to accept. That part wasn’t so easily accomplished.
Nastia glanced to the sky, and her shoulders sank. “Fiiiine.”
Mirena clapped her hands together
with glee, and Adira was pretty happy with the decision too. It meant she wouldn’t have to listen to the counting anymore.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you—”
Nastia held up her slapping hand. “Don’t make me smack you again.”
Mirena sobered. “Right. Got it. Okay, so from here until the lodge you must count your blasted rocks to yourself. If you fail, the price is my laundry.”
Adira kept it to herself that they didn’t have much laundry for Nastia to wash. They’d packed four dresses each and undergarments to match in the small suitcase which floated along behind them. She’d cast a spell after they were dropped off, so they wouldn’t have to carry it. Being a Sorcera had many perks.
She glanced back to check it. The case bobbed and weaved several feet in the air, reminding her of a flying carpet, but as long as she kept walking, it would follow.
They went on in silence for a while. Her judgment of time was off so there was no indication how long, but it left her with plenty of room to think.
In the days since their communication with the Elder, their power had dimmed and their vices had worsened. Especially Nastia’s. She now included bricks in her necessary counting of rocks ritual. Even though Adira and Mirena assured her, bricks were different than rocks and they didn’t count.
Adira hoped the lodge wasn’t made of bricks.
But even with their powers lessened, they were still a force to be reckoned with. Adira was certain they could still be of help to the shifter clan. Tonight they would test their plan and be sure.
They’d come up with the most perfect spell. Well, they hadn’t per se. Rather they’d found it in one of the old tomes Nastia had horded away over the years. It was an ancient spell from the days before America was a nation. Before their ancestors were persecuted in the villages and they’d been forced to hide their magic.
There was a clearing up ahead and Adira saw it at the same time her sisters did, each of them picking up the pace to reach it faster.
