by Lolita Lopez
Recoiling, Evi frowned and started to protest. His eyes were the most otherworldly shade of amber now and practically glowed. She sensed that vicious beast inside him wanted to be set free. To maul her? To fuck her? To mate her? She couldn’t quite be sure.
After a short reconsideration, a faint smile twitched the corners of his mouth and he nodded demurely. “All right.”
Sinking to his knees, he waited for Celia’s next instruction. She noted the space of a dozen feet between them. “I want you to crawl to me.”
And he did. On all fours, he stopped less than a foot from her. Turgid and flushed, his erection stabbed at his navel, visibly palpitating as blood rushed to fill it. Her left sole still ached so she did what any woman would in that position—she shoved it against his mouth, forcing him to kiss the red stripe. Without further instruction, Evi lapped at her foot, paying special attention to the swollen arch before suckling her toes.
Quite ticklish, Celia held her giggles in check, allowing herself to acclimate to the odd sensation of a tongue on her foot. Soon, each lick seemed to correspond to her thrumming clitoris.
Roiled by lust, Celia removed her foot from his mouth and beckoned him closer. She leaned back, widening her legs and revealing the slick lips of her sex. “Lick my pussy, Evi.”
“Da.”
Grabbing her feet, he lifted them and hooked her knees over his shoulders. Using broad swipes, he licked first the right labia and then left, alternating between them as she hissed with pleasure. When he prodded her sopping crevice, she dropped the blade on the floor and gripped the armrests. In a simulation of the sex act, he used his tongue to thrust into her.
Licking the length of her slit, Evi concentrated on her crimson bud. He coaxed it with suckling and twirling, sending Celia into a frenzied, panting state. When he sucked her clit between his lips, she thought she would come right then but squeezed her intimate muscles and held her breath, refusing to climax yet.
With a rough shove, she broke Evi’s hold on her. She slid down the cushion and onto his straining cock, her tender ass resting on his bent thighs, his coarse hairs simultaneously irritating and stimulating the inflamed skin. Legs wrapped around his waist, she planted her palms on the chair cushion behind her, using it as a foundation for her rocking motions. Evi’s mouth found her neck and breasts, leaving a trail of wet kisses. Friction built between their rubbing genitals, but even as deliciously naughty as the position was, it just didn’t give Celia enough control. She was greedy for more domination.
“On your back,” she urged, supporting her full weight with flexed arms so that Evi could slide out from beneath her and into a supine position. Impulsively, Celia snatched the blade from the ground. Evi eyed her intently, wondering what she meant to do with it, no doubt. Truthfully, she had no idea herself.
Standing over him, she cautiously dragged the garnet point of the blade between her breasts, the pressure so light it didn’t even leave a scratch. Firelight and lamplight penetrated the golden topaz blade, projecting tawny prisms around the room. Ever so slowly, Celia hovered over Evi’s quivering penis, her natural wetness dripping onto his thighs. With heavy-lidded eyes, he watched his cock disappear into her hot pussy. Stomach clenching, she gyrated atop him, grinding her inflamed clit against his pubic bone. When he tried to hasten their mating by lifting his hips to thrust, she placed the blade against his sternum.
“Don’t move,” she whispered sternly.
The frigid gemstone blade caused him to shiver, but he didn’t move. She could see the battle between lust and his own need for dominance in his intense gaze. His eyes were shining now. A growl of warning erupted from his throat, but she wasn’t so easily cowed. She supposed he’d never allowed a woman to turn the tables on him. Granted, Celia wasn’t doling out punishments, but she was clearly in control of the situation.
Despite the fact that she had tried to steal from him, he seemed to trust her implicitly. She could have cut him or stabbed him. One quick flick—and she could have opened his jugular. But he wasn’t afraid of her. He was intrigued by her. He wanted to see where this new twist in their game would take them.
His face contorted in ecstasy, he lay there, allowing Celia to ride him with abandon. They both understood that there was really little chance of him being seriously hurt by the blade to his chest. It was merely the sensation of such a taboo act and the distant chance of injury that heightened their arousal.
She bounced on his shaft, each upstroke accompanied by Evi’s moans and each downstroke by her sighs. Pressure building in the pit of her stomach, she swiveled her hips, crushing her throbbing clit against him to assuage the painful need. Evi’s fists knotted against the floor, his jaw clenching as Celia wantonly pursued nirvana. She rode him with such wildness that her calves and thighs burned, threatening to cramp, but she paid the warnings no heed.
Finally, her wet pussy clutched his cock, her body overtaken by rapid spasms.
Groaning, she arched her back, completely oblivious to Evi’s infraction of the rules. Placing his hands on her hips, he began pounding into her from below. An inhuman roar heralded the arrival of his climax and Celia gasped as copious amounts of blazing semen filled her womb. Propelling its seed, Evi’s penis twitched within her, milked by her own contractions. In the back of her mind, she knew they were playing a dangerous game now. There was just enough shifter DNA in her blood to make her womb a welcoming host to his offspring.
Unable to support herself, Celia dropped the blade and collapsed forward, sweaty strands of her hair falling into Evi’s open mouth. She didn’t care. She merely wanted to regain the ability to breathe, to form a coherent thought.
When she could finally move again, Celia affectionately touched Evi’s stubbled cheek, holding her hand against his face as she deeply kissed him. She nuzzled his neck and his shallow breaths buffeted her ear. Raising her head, she gazed into his eyes, and it could have been the endorphins and the raging hormones fooling her, but Celia felt the unexpected sensation of belonging. It was as if lying atop him, feeling him soften inside her, their breath mingling, was entirely natural.
But since life had never been particularly fair in her case, Celia decided that it was highly unlikely kismet had smiled upon her this time. Happiness wasn’t born this easily. Besides, while she lay here, content and sated, Bianca remained a prisoner of a maniacal sorcerer.
She glanced at the clock over the mantle and calculated the time in Paris. It was ten past six. That troubling thought spurred her into action.
“Where are you going?” Balancing on his side, Evi clutched her ankle but she wriggled free.
“I’m getting dressed.” She began slipping into her undergarments.
“You don’t have to go. Stay,” he entreated, rising to his feet.
Shaking her head, Celia yanked on her bra. “I have a pressing deadline.”
“Whatever they’re paying you, I’ll double it.”
Celia perched on the edge of the bed and pulled on her socks while she debated how much to tell him. “It’s not about the money, Evi.”
“Fine. Play coy,” he said, misinterpreting her statement. Frustrated, he slashed the air with his hand. “I’ll triple the price.”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” she replied, shimmying into the catsuit. “I just want the blade for a few hours and I’ll bring it back.”
“How do I know that you’re not going to double-cross me the same way you’re planning on fucking over your employer?” Evi’s aggravation was evident in his tone.
“Well,” she said as she laced up her boots, “you’re just going to have to trust me.”
“And if I don’t?”
Celia stood up and shrugged. “That’s just tough, I guess. We had a deal. I’m leaving with the blade.”
She bent to retrieve it from the floor but Evi snatched it away from her. He stepped between her and the doorway to the office and the rest of her gear.
“No, you’re not,” he said rather simply.
Nausea clenched in her stomach as she finally realized what was happening. Betrayal hit her like a punch to the gut. She couldn’t believe this. When they had made their illicit bargain, she had accepted the terms. This was different. He had used her. He had abused her. He had tricked and lied to her. “You were never going to let me have it, were you?”
“No,” he easily admitted. “This was a lesson about consequences and—”
Celia didn’t give him the chance to finish his rather pompous statement. Furious, she hurled herself at him, wrapping her fingers around his throat as she drove him against the wall. She had pushed her full power into the attack, startling and overpowering him. It wouldn’t last. He was so powerful and strong. Not wanting to lose her advantage, she squeezed harder. His back connected with the wall with such force that the paintings hanging on the wall rattled free and their frames shattered when they hit the floor. Unable to breathe, he turned scarlet and gasped for air.
“You son of a bitch!” Her fingers bit into his skin and she mustered every ounce of self-control to prevent snapping his neck. “If Bianca dies because I’ve wasted the last six hours bartering for that fucking blade, I will make your last day on this Earth so horrific that the pits of Hell will seem a welcome reprieve! Do you understand me?”
Loosening her grip, she allowed him the tiniest gasp of air before tightening her fingers and applying extra pressure to his prominent Adam’s apple. When she saw fear—real fear—flicker in his eyes, she removed her hand and let him fall to the floor in a panting, choking heap.
She jerked the blade from his quivering fingers and strode into the office. As she slipped the blade into its scabbard, she kept one eye on Evi, watching him unsteadily walk toward her.
“Don’t ever do that again!” He coughed angrily. “You nearly provoked the shift. I could have swiped you with my claws before I regained control!”
“Fat chance of that happening if you’re passed out cold.” Celia blustered as she jammed her arms through her vest and zipped up the front. She realized belatedly that the fear she had seen in his eyes wasn’t fear for his own safety but for hers. He had been afraid that he would lose control.
“I’m not playing games here, Celia. My instincts are to react to all attacks in a violent and brutal way. Don’t come at me like that. You are fragile and small and—”
She snorted derisively. “Fragile? You saw the scars on my body. You know what I’ve survived.”
“You shouldn’t have had to survive any of that.” He sounded angry again, but she wasn’t sure where his anger was directed. At her father? At himself? At the universe for its unfairness?
With a heavy rumbling growl, Evi asked, “Is your sister in trouble then?”
“What do you think?” Her sarcasm whipped through the air.
“Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?” The tips of his ears were red now. “Before I—”
“Exploited me? Blackmailed me? Tied me up and punished and fucked me?”
His eyes were that strange gold color again. She could feel that static ripple in the air. He was having a hard time controlling his inner beast. “I shouldn’t have done those things to you.”
“I let you do them.” She wasn’t going to allow him to take all the blame. “If you had known about Bianca, would you have given me the blade?” She replaced her Fairbairn-Sykes in its boot shield.
He was quiet for a moment before finally shaking his head. “No, probably not.”
“That’s why I didn’t say anything,” Celia snapped. “It wouldn’t have mattered. I would have let you do anything to me for this dagger.”
“I wish you wouldn’t say things like that.” His voice was low and embarrassed. “I shouldn’t have—I wouldn’t have—treated you like a common thief if I had known your sister was in trouble.” He hesitated. “Has she been kidnapped?”
“Yes.”
“To settle a debt?”
“Of sorts, yes.”
“Does she owe someone money? Is that why you need the blade? To sell it?”
“She’s seventeen, Evi. How many teenage girls do you know who have a gambling problem?”
“Are you the one in debt?”
“Jesus Christ, Evi, enough with the twenty questions!” Celia huffed as she wrapped the Velcro holster around her thigh.
“I think I have every right to know the details of where my dagger is going, especially if it affects the odds of its return.”
“You want to know everything? Fine! I’ll tell you everything!”
She told him about Bianca’s failing liver, how the drugs to treat her Wilson’s weren’t doing enough to slow the disease and how her kidneys would soon fail too. She divulged that even though Bianca’s only hope of surviving the next year was a liver transplant, Celia couldn’t help her. Despite being sisters, they weren’t compatible for a donor-recipient match. Even if Bianca’s doctors were fortunate enough to find her a liver, they would be lucky if the new liver lasted a decade.
“When our parents were alive, we didn’t need insurance. There was plenty of money to pay for medical bills. But now, when we really need it, we can’t afford it. She’s on some shitty state plan now. Do you know how much a transplant and the first year of maintenance costs?”
Silent, Evi shook his head.
“Almost half a million dollars,” she whispered. “It costs tens of thousands of dollars a year just to pay for doctor visits and to keep Bianca’s current prescriptions filled. I didn’t have any choice but to ramp up the number of jobs I accepted. I started taking more risks.” Frowning, Celia shrugged. “I made a mistake. I took a job from a grandson of Holocaust survivors.”
Evi’s forehead wrinkled. “Holocaust survivors?”
“Some of their family’s most prized paintings were part of the Nazi looting during the war, and they wanted them back. They’d exhausted official channels so they came to me.”
“And who did you steal the paintings from?”
Chewing her lower lip, Celia decided to tell him the truth. “Didier Savard.”
“What?” The word came out of his throat like a tiger’s roar, loud and booming and making her flinch. His scent changed—and she could feel the strange pulse of his aura. He was on the verge of shifting to his tiger form. She had to fight the urge to hit him or run, knowing full well that monstrous beast inside him would see her behavior as provocation. As a tiger, he would relish the chase.
Muscling down the impulse and regaining control, Evi closed the gap between them in three long strides. “What were you thinking? The man is a sociopath, Celia!”
“I know! I knew it then and I know it now, but…” Celia wrung her hands and tried to find a way to explain it to him. “They paid me two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, Evi. I had already earned almost four hundred thousand. One job, a few days of planning, an hour for execution and I made enough money to give my sister a fighting chance! I couldn’t turn it down.” She paused, eyes downcast in shame. “I was greedy, and now Bianca’s being held hostage in…”
“In exchange for the blade,” Evi finished.
Nodding, Celia raised her eyes. “So now you know.”
“I would have given you the money, Celia. You should have come to me.” He sounded hurt and that only inflamed her already irritated nerves.
“Why would I have come to you? You killed my brother. You abandoned my family when we needed you.”
He flinched, and she hated herself for being so cruel. In the back of her mind, she knew she was playing a dangerous game here. If she pushed too hard, he might explode and shift—and maul her to death.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he snapped. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You just spent hours hurting me.” But that wasn’t true, was it? Could she really call it hurting when she had enjoyed it? Found pleasure in it? That she still craved his touch and the pleasure and pain he had given her was confusing and unsettling.
“If I harmed you tonight, it wasn’t my
intention. I tried to be careful with you. I wanted to punish you, but I never wanted to harm you.” His jaw tightened. “The tiger inside me—this beast of mine—could never hurt you. Not now. Not after tonight.”
“After tonight?” Her heart fluttered in her chest. Surely, he didn’t mean…?
“Your scent,” he stated. “It’s the right one. It’s the one I’ve been waiting for all these years. It’s you, Celia. You’re the one. The only one.”
“Evi,” she said, breathless with fear—and hope. “It can’t be me. I’m not the right girl for you.” She spread her hands out in front of her. “You don’t want me. Find another girl. Find a real tiger. Find anyone else but me.”
“Do you think I haven’t tried? Do you think my entire family hasn’t tried? My cousins and I are the last of our kind. We’ve looked and we’ve tried, but none of us have been lucky.” He took a step toward her. “Until tonight. Until you.” He shook his head. “It’s not a matter of only wanting you, Celia.” He swallowed hard. “I need you.”
“Please don’t say that,” she begged. “I already have one person in my life who needs me. I don’t have enough left over for anyone else. I would make you miserable. I know what you alpha male shifters are like. I know what you want from your mates. That’s not me, Evi. It can never be me. Bianca will always come first.”
“Not if we save her,” he argued. “Let me help you, Celia.” That sexy mouth that had done such wicked things to her settled into a grim line. “I took your brother from you. Let me help you save your sister now.”
It was an offer she didn’t want to refuse. A tiger at her side? She could use that kind of power and violence. Mouth dry, she shook her head. “No, you can’t come with me. If Didier sees you with me, he’ll kill Bianca. He has nothing to lose. He’s dying. He’ll kill my sister and then let you tear his throat out just to spite me.”
“It’s probably a trap, Celia.”
“Most likely,” she agreed, turning her back on him while she adjusted her vest and slipped the blade between it and her suit. She had a feeling this was going to lead to yet another altercation so she surreptitiously slid her hand into the lower right pocket of the vest. She didn’t want Evi to shift and attack her. He’d never forgive himself if he really hurt her.
