“Yes,” she said breathlessly when he released her. “I need you. Both of you.”
Her hooded eyes left no room for speculation. She was tired, but her desire prohibited sleep; it caved in around her until she was blinded by need. Rest was hindered by her growing lust.
Jagger and Leon aimed their penises at her pussy. Jagger grabbed hold of the headboard. Leon steadied himself by gripping Jagger’s shoulder. Then, together, they entered her, pushing their cockheads well past her saturated folds.
They quickly found their rhythm. They easily moved in time. Jagger and Leon stroked her together, pushing their shafts hard and deep, claiming her completely as the mattress shimmied with their tireless fucking.
“I love you,” she mouthed. “Both of you.”
“And we love you,” Leon said.
As Jagger looked into Ariela’s stunning blue eyes, he realized she didn’t need to hear the sweet words of everlasting endearment. What she needed then was completion. She desired fulfillment. She longed for satisfaction.
“Now,” Jagger breathed, locking his cock inside her pussy and trying to ignore the intensified friction between his cock and Leon’s.
“Ah yes, now!” she screamed, clamping down on their cocks until the barbs emerged from both heads.
Jagger screamed out as he tried to maintain his tempo. Leon snarled and dug his fingernails into Jagger’s flesh. Together they pumped for the finish, fucking her with a series of short thrusts until she cried out passionately, screaming their names with fervor and squeezing their cocks with tremendous zeal.
* * * *
Back in Las Vegas, Barlo wasn’t happy. He circled Sanchez’s cage like a predator, watching and waiting.
They’d taken away Sanchez’s food and water, as if they thought he wouldn’t be able to survive the night, but he knew Ariela would return. She’d come to check on him, and he wouldn’t go hungry or thirsty for very long.
“You think you’re smarter than the rest of us.” Barlo stopped in front of him, narrowing his evil gaze at Sanchez. “You think you have that Midas touch?” He snarled, then glanced at one of his guards. “Then again, it didn’t take him long to get that barbed head stroked. Did it, boy?”
The guard laughed. “No, boss. It took him about five minutes.”
“Five minutes,” Barlo drawled. “What do you think about that, Sanchez?” He smirked. “I’ll tell you what I think about it. I believe the connection between the two of you is as aged as this building we occupy. You and Ariela have been fated mates since before the beginning of time. There’s nothing I can do about that now.”
“But you did, boss,” the guard said. “You made sure they only fucked once.”
“Silence!” Barlo bellowed, swinging his gaze between Sanchez and his bodyguard. His nostrils flared. His eyes set in obvious anger.
Sanchez lowered his head, but lifted his gaze. Barlo had been behind the interruption when Ariela had been pulled away from the basement, captured by another man and carried away as if she had no other choice in the matter.
“Do you know who Ariela is, Sanchez?” Barlo chuckled. “I don’t think you do. I think somewhere deep inside of you there was this lovely romantic man, a shifter who wanted to believe that the woman he loves will only belong to him.” He brushed lint off his sleeve. “Go ahead and get that nonsense out of your mind right now. See, Jagger, the man you saw earlier, is a shifter.”
As if Sanchez hadn’t already figured out that much.
“And he has a friend, actually the older guy was his confidant as a child, who is a wizard of sorts. His name is Leon.”
Sanchez wanted to shift and scream out, “What does this have to do with me?” But he remained still, quiet.
Barlo moved closer and squatted in front of the latched cage. “You may be wondering why I’m giving you a bit of history here, but you see, it’s very important for me to convey this information.” He grabbed hold of the bars and hoisted himself forward, daring to look Sanchez in the eyes as he finished his story. “Jagger and Leon are Ariela’s mates.” He paused, frowned, shook his head, and acted as if the final words were agonizing to speak. “And one can only assume that, given Ariela’s current condition, Jagger and Leon are probably fucking her right now—while you sit here in this cage, refusing to show your face.”
A loud roar resounded, a call so vehemently wild, Sanchez barely recognized the outburst as his own. He grabbed hold of Barlo’s hands with his sharp teeth, tearing at flesh, muscles and nerves. He ripped through the man’s fingers until the bone wasn’t just marred—it was gone.
Screams tore through the warehouse as Barlo’s fingers disappeared inside the locked jaws of the beast he’d called upon, summoned without fear, without thought of the consequences.
Then Sanchez drew Barlo forward, inch by inch, indulging in the finest meal he’d ever been served in captivity. The sweet taste of revenge pampered the palate, and by the time the guards sedated Sanchez, his fury had left him hungry for more.
Chapter Eight
The ringing phone jarred Ariela awake. She checked the caller ID, and slapped the phone against Jagger’s chest. “It’s your other wife.”
Jagger yawned, stretched, and eyed the bedside alarm clock. Noting the time, he sat upright, dreading this noontime call more than any other. Melinda would’ve called way before lunchtime if she’d had a free minute. Since she hadn’t, he fully expected one vengeful bitch on the other end of the phone.
“Where are you?” Bits of broken breath fell into the receiver. “Don’t answer that. I can only guess. Since the stories here in town are breaking at a rapid pace, I was calling to see if you’re safe, alive, well, and all that jazz.”
“Speak in plain English, Melinda. It’s too early to translate Melindanese.”
“I told you a long time ago, Jagger. You wouldn’t listen then. Now, maybe you will.”
Undoubtedly, this had something to do with Ariela. He wrapped a protective arm around his mate and kissed her forehead. “What’s wrong, Melinda?”
“Turn on the news, jump in the shower, and get your ass in here as fast as you can. We’ve never had this many patrons on the floor, and our security detail isn’t too happy with the big man off campus, if you know what I mean.”
“What’s this have to do with Ariela?” He snuggled closer, loving the warmth resonating from her body, that feline heat beckoning him, calling out to him.
“Oh, that,” Melinda drawled with thick sarcasm. “Evidently Barlo Matheson is dead. His brother is taking his place, and there’s a court order preventing a lion hanging in the middle of casino square, you know the marketplace over at Barlo’s—”
“What?” Ariela shot out of bed. “Ask her what she’s talking about. What about a lion hanging?” Ariela grabbed the remote and flipped on the television.
“I heard the little breeding bear. Is she coming out of hibernation today, or shall I send the press out to your place?”
“Don’t send them anywhere, Melinda,” Jagger said firmly. “I’ll be there in forty-five. Stall them.”
He disconnected the phone and fixated on the television screen, unable to process what was happening before his very eyes. A mix of images cluttered the television. He glanced at Leon who was now propped up on his elbows. “When did this happen?”
Leon shook his head. “I don’t know. I told you, there’s something about Barlo that blocks my visions.”
“You’re telling me you didn’t know Sanchez would be in trouble?”
“That’s right, Ariela. I didn’t know. You have to believe that.”
“They want to kill him!”
“Apparently they believe he killed Barlo.”
Leon tilted his head at the upper right-hand corner of the television screen. “The facts are all there, apparently.”
In the upper inset, a horrific scene unfolded. Sanchez dismantled Barlo’s limbs and left him for dead. It took a number of Barlo’s guar
ds to sedate Sanchez. According to the newsfeed at the bottom of the screen, animal abuse was suspected. No food or water bowls were found in the cage.
“You have to do something.” Ariela grabbed hold of the bedpost and squeezed her eyes shut, moaning. “No. I can’t do this now.” It was as if she were struck with one of the worst bouts in her mating period. Given her swaying motions, the need to fuck had struck with force, doubling her over.
“Come back to bed, Ariela,” Leon said. “I’ll take care of you so you can shower and ride into town with Jagger.”
“No,” Jagger deadpanned. “You can see what’s going on there. With Barlo’s footage of Ariela with Sanchez, I don’t want her anywhere near the city until we talk with the head of security over there.”
“Will I be blamed?”
“Possibly,” Jagger said. “There’s been too much speculation about a newly formed animal rights group. Apparently, there are several activists who believe there are a number of shifters living in Las Vegas. They’ve been protesting their involvement with any exotic animals, pitching their fears of something like this occurring. If that footage Barlo possessed shows you shifting before you mated with Sanchez, someone could suggest you agitated him.”
“Barlo Matheson was a valued member of our community.” One of the reporters grabbed their attention. “He donated to charities. He treated his employees well. They were said to be deeply saddened by this loss. His lifelong ambition was to open a habitat for white lions. His brother, Shoc Matheson, tells us that dream will still be fulfilled.”
Another correspondent came into view. “But isn’t it true that Mr. Matheson has already ordered the lion destroyed?”
“No,” the first reporter said. “We’re not sure where the rumors originated, but we’ve spoken with Shoc Matheson—who assures us that Sanchez, the lion responsible for Barlo’s death, is not a danger to anyone. He’s been in captivity for most of his life. He hasn’t attacked in the past, and his handlers don’t think he’ll attack again. This was an unfortunate accident. Authorities are investigating, but it appears the animal had been drugged and had a violent reaction to the sedative he’d been given a few hours before Mr. Barlo Matheson’s death.”
“See there,” Ariela said. “I knew he couldn’t have done this on purpose.”
“And how would you know, Ariela?” Jagger grabbed a few clothes from the walk-in and headed to the bathroom. “Have you had a chance to sit down and talk with him? Has he transitioned in front of you? Did he shift when you were fucking him, by chance?”
“I’ll let that comment slide,” she said, blinking away tears. “You didn’t mean that.”
“You’re right. I didn’t. But I do mean this; if you go anywhere without Leon today, so help me, I’ll strap you to the bed, leave you with a dildo in your pussy, and go on vacation for the week.”
“Is that a promise?”
“I’m serious, Ariela.”
“I am too,” she whispered. A beat later, she said, “I won’t go anywhere. Take Leon with you, Jagger. You need him to handle the press. Don’t worry about me. If the lust brings on the need to roam, I’ll call you. I promise. I won’t leave the house without talking to you first.”
Jagger focused on Leon. “What do you think?”
“I think she’s right. You need me in town today. Ariela’s a big girl. She can take care of herself.” He yanked her forward. “Besides, I plan to take care of her before we leave.”
Chapter Nine
When the sun began its descent later that evening, Ariela stood on the edge of the patio watching the large ball of orange light illuminate the desert. A sandstorm blew over the crest of a nearby ridge, and the gust seemed to envelop the beautiful rich hues. The cast of colors danced around the large bulb of blinding light, and Ariela was hooked, addicted to the tug of emotions tempting her to stretch her legs and run.
Without thinking about Jagger or Leon for longer than a second, she bolted into the hills, shifting in midair and flying toward the large boulders hovering right over what was left of the whispering grass and scattered prongs of twigs.
As the flurry of disorienting dust vanished, she realized she’d run much farther than she’d thought. She’d crossed into another area of desert she’d yet to explore.
Nestled in a canyon of rocks, a large contemporary home towered over layers of natural stone, protruding over the valley below like a symbol of rigid strength. At least four stories of glass shimmered with the reflection of light, and the beauty of the structure literally took her breath away.
“Wow,” she whispered as soon as she shifted back to her human form. She’d never seen anything quite like it.
Typically unimpressed by material things, Ariela crept closer, cautiously watching for signs of life, but assuming the place was deserted given the real-estate sign in the well-manicured lawn. A few steps later, she stood at the bottom of a circular stairwell leading to a high deck. As if she were driven only by the desire to see the view, she climbed the steps to the top deck so she could take in the day’s end, the finale of a gorgeous sunset.
Once there, she found an infinity pool, much like her own. The crystal-blue waters called out to her then. She thinned her lips and debated on taking a dip.
Her body demanded that she take advantage of the situation, and her feline lust took over. The mating season reminded her of the dangers of the desert. Her breasts rose and fell as her lust shook through her. She dove in the water, but the refreshing pool didn’t do anything to sate that burn, tamper that longing.
Oh God, why hadn’t she listened to Jagger? Why hadn’t she kept her promise, when she’d agreed to stay at home alone without giving them cause to worry?
She splayed her legs and dipped her fingers inside her pussy, swirling them around and around as she tried to bring herself to an expedient orgasm. Her legs fluttered and her bottom sank.
Her excitement took hold. Her pussy clenched around her probing fingers, but the heat deep within her womb only taunted her more. Still breathless from her run, she swam to the wide steps at the opposite end. She located the swirling water, the built-in whirlpool for therapeutic needs.
Throwing her legs over the side of the pool, she pushed her bottom against the concrete. A spurt of water tickled her clit and she threw her head back, grinding against the even spray of water as she tried to find pleasure, fought to gain some measure of relief.
“Ah!” she screamed out, clutching the handrail right above her head.
The sloshing noise was music to her ears as the pulsing spray peppered her cunt, bathed her with one erotic sensation after another. With her hand wrapped around the bar, she hoisted her body forward and back, staring down at her flaring pussy lips as the jets continued to satisfy her ferocious desire.
She came down from one orgasm, but held fast to the lasting rippling sensations as her cunt quaked, quivering from the inside out. Then she released a heartfelt moan as a tremendous vibration shot through her channel, flooding her with more pleasure than any other artificial stimulation had ever provided.
Moments later, she dragged herself away from the water. She pulled at her dripping hair, wringing the moisture from the long straight locks.
That was when a beast of a fellow strolled out to the deck. He stared at her with appreciation in his gaze, but never uttered the first word.
Aware of her nudity and quite embarrassed by her body’s response to this man, Ariela wrapped her arms around her torso and shook off one tremor after another. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone was home.”
The handsome fellow, likely in his mid-forties, stalked her. Bare, save for a sprinkling of tan hair, his chest was broad and thick. Sweat marred his furrowed brow, and he looked as if he had recently completed a hell of a workout. Or a fuck.
“No need to apologize,” the man said. “That was quite possibly the sexiest damn show I’ve ever seen.”
They stared at one another for what seemed like
agonizing minutes. He flashed his sex appeal like an earned badge, maybe even a rite of passage. And those eyes? Oh God. He studied her with daunting eyes while dragging his thumb over the swell of his bottom lip. “Would you like a drink?”
“No,” she whispered. “I should be going.” She turned then, but was instantly disturbed by the emotions running rampant. She stilled at the edge of the patio, certain she could almost feel the man’s searing gaze at her back, settling on her buttocks.
“You’re a shifter,” he rasped, pure male need in his voice. “A woman doesn’t show up on a man’s patio without a change of clothes. Never mind the fact that you dove right in the water and swam straight for the whirlpool jets so you could get yourself off.”
Ariela whirled around on her heel. “How dare you talk to me in such a manner.”
“And how dare you trespass.” His features only darkened. “It works both ways.”
“I apologize for the disturbance.” She crouched, ready to shift.
“That need you feel? It will get worse,” he called out. “Your heightened curiosity, the growing desire for more affection, your sexual curiosity…and let’s not discuss the building desires, the lust no man can sate, no lover can satisfy.”
“Who do you think you are?”
The man marched toward her. His rigid body was a towering reminder of the very home she’d admired from afar. He stood out as exceptional, just like his house. His passion would be wild and reckless, habit-forming. He was a product of the desert rather than an immigrant who’d chosen to live there.
“I can help you. Those insatiable urges you have, you can control them for good—but only with my help.”
“You don’t know me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Ariela. I’ve waited for you all my life.”
* * * *
An hour later, Jagger pulled up to a home in the hills. “Are you sure this is it?”
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