“Margo, baby…” He’d pulled away. Why had he pulled away? She looked at the agonized need tightening his expression, her brows lowering in confusion when he shook his head. “I never in all my years imagined saying this, but we should stop. We shouldn’t do this here. And if you keep grinding against me, I won’t be able to stop myself from tossing you on this table and taking you right now, in full view of our online audience.”
Audience. The cameras. Hell. Chi and Liam were gone, but Margo knew each room had its own grouping of stationary cameras. She’d been grinding? Mortification stung her cheeks. She imagined the people online watching her behavior, maybe even her coworkers, and she tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her.
He stood, holding her struggling body easily in his arms and strode swiftly to the kitchen, nodding at the Goth servants before heading into the large pantry room and closing the door.
The lock turned with a click of finality, and Margo bit her lip. Would Darcy fire her for her inappropriate behavior? She huffed out a dark laugh. Her boss would no doubt wholeheartedly approve. As long as it got her those Shifting Reality rights.
He swept his hand out, drawing her gaze to the deep pantry filled with dry goods and empty jars. It was nearly the size of her bedroom in the insanely expensive cubbyhole she called an apartment. And the ceiling was so high, stocked to the rafters, that they actually had a sliding ladder leaning against one of the shelves.
Thomas caressed her jaw with his thumb, bringing her attention back to him. “There’s no sound equipment, no cameras here. Just you and I. Talk to me, Margo, please.” He ran his fingers through his hair, looking frustrated. “If I were Saint or Mac, I’d have a way to know what you’re thinking. Know why you look like you regret what just happened.”
“If you were Saint or Mac, I wouldn’t be in this pantry.” She spoke without thinking, flinched as she saw his pleased expression. Shit. Why didn’t she just tell him she only regretted he’d stopped? That she’d wanted to smother herself in chocolate and whipped cream and be his dessert? She sighed. “What I mean is— Hell, I don’t know what I mean. I think we should go to bed. Separately. To separate beds. Alone. We can talk about the reason we both know I’m here in the morning.”
Work, keep saying it, this is for work. Contract not coitus. Contract not coitus.
“I smell you.”
She crossed her arms defensively and looked at him askance. “I’m sorry?”
Thomas shook his head, his eyes going dark as he took a deep, lung filling breath. “Just, now that there’s no distraction, I can really smell you. It’s rich. Spicy and sweet. Like pumpkin mousse or, well, I’ve never smelled anyone quite like you.”
Pumpkin? “You smell nice too. I’m assuming we both shower. What’s your point?” She was being belligerent, but she couldn’t seem to help it. She was having a hard time accepting how easily she’d lost control. The old Margo would no doubt have thrown caution to the wind, damned the cameras and danced for him on the table, perhaps torn off his buttons with her teeth. Which was one of the reasons she’d been buried beneath mountains of to do lists and restrained hairdos for the better part of a decade. The old Margo was nothing but trouble.
So was Thomas Lyons. His pupils had dilated, his strong features had sharpened and his cheeks looked flushed. He looked…feral. Wild. Like he was ready to pick up where they’d just left off, whether she liked it or not. Her slender thread of control began to fray once more. She should leave now. The pantry. The castle. The country.
Thomas blocked her way to the door. Did his fangs look longer? More intimidating? He towered over her, backing her up until her shoulders hit the ladder. He took her wrists in his hands and lifted her arms over her head. She gripped the rungs of the ladder, clinging instinctively, fascinated by the predatory look in his eyes.
“My point,” his voice was rough, needy, “is that you aren’t going anywhere, kitten. Regardless of what your mind is telling you to regret or run from, your body is speaking loud and clear. And it wants what I want.”
“What?”
Thomas leaned into her, his lips lightly caressing her neck as he whispered, “More.”
Margo gasped into his mouth and as soon as she felt his tongue glide across hers, she was lost again. She should have been disappointed in herself. Instead she reveled in the passion that welled inside her, reveled in the tingling of her skin where he touched her, knowing he was right. Her body was ready for him, ready for more.
In his hands her silk blouse unbuttoned with ease, the front clasp of her bra opening with one twist of his talented fingers. She lifted her mouth to take a panting breath. “You’re pretty good at that.”
“You haven’t seen good yet. But you will.”
Margo cried out at the feel of his teeth scraping the sensitive curve of her breast. He sucked her nipple hard against the roof of his mouth, his tongue swirling across her flesh. The rough texture of it made her sex clench.
Tomcat. That was who this was. This man who already had her pants around her ankles, her underwear pushed to the side as his fingers slipped through the wetness of her sex. “Thomas.”
He growled, two thick fingers stretching her, thrusting inside. He lifted his mouth. “Wet. Smell so good. Feel so good. I need to…”
A surprised whimper escaped her lips as Thomas dropped to his knees in front of her, spreading her thighs with his calloused palms and burying his face between her legs. His tongue scraped across the lips of her sex, and his muffled shout sent a thrilling vibration through her body.
Margo hung to the ladder for dear life as he pulled her closer, his nose pressing hard against her clit as he replaced his fingers with his tongue. “Oh God.”
The animal inside him roared in approval, claiming her with the first swallow of her arousal. Mate. My mate. Had he even believed in it, truly, until now? But hadn’t he known there was something about her? Wasn’t that why he’d gone to all this trouble? This elaborate farce of a contest? He’d needed to meet her. Margo. His.
Fuck, she tasted amazing. He felt like a teenager, shaken, like the first time he’d shifted into his beast. Wild and out of control. He knew she was moaning, her body moving in restless surprise as he flattened his tongue inside her, determined to drink down every drop of her juices, to absorb her taste. He was an instant addict, and he knew as surely as he knew he needed to breathe that he would never get enough.
His hands dropped from her thighs to slide off her flats, her pants, lifting her legs with his hands beneath her knees. Higher, wider, opening her more fully for his feasting mouth. He couldn’t get close enough. He wanted to crawl inside, cover himself in her scent, fill himself to bursting with her taste. Wanted it so much it scared him. Even that couldn’t make him pull back. Lust was an emotion he was familiar with, but this was more. This was primal, instinctive. Overwhelming.
He growled his approval at her first climax, the gush of liquid sliding down his throat like brandy. His fingers curled into her flesh, holding her shaking body still for his mouth.
His erection was thick, flushed with need, and the pulse beating against his pants was almost painful. But the cat in him would have his fill of cream. Wouldn’t give Margo a moment to catch her breath before he thrust his tongue inside her again, curling to press against a spot that made her buck against his mouth, already heading toward another, more powerful orgasm.
The muscles along the wall of her sex flexed, tightening around his tongue and he shuddered, imagining how tightly she would grip his cock. He saw an image in his head as she came apart against him again. An image of her on hands and knees, his cock buried inside her, his teeth piercing her neck.
The picture was so vivid he almost came.
The idea of biting her was inebriating. She would be his, body and soul. Thomas would be bound to her, in a connection more powerful than any human joining. Not yet. He had to hold himself back. Had to restrain himself from doing what came naturally. She was human. And she still didn�
��t believe in him, hadn’t accepted him. If she rejected him after his bite…he would be lost.
Her boneless body offered no resistance when he pulled her down to the cool floor. He rolled her onto her stomach, lifting her hips up to his mouth, those few moments of separation making his lion snarl in denial.
“Thomas, fuck. Please. I can’t take anymore.” Margo was clawing the floor, her sex rocking against his mouth helplessly, and he could see tears of pleasure dampening her lashes as she turned her head. But he couldn’t stop. He had to taste her climax again. Once more and then he could fuck her the way he needed to.
He spread the cheeks of her ass wide, his thumbs caressing the tender, hidden flesh. He wanted to be there as well. Deep inside her tightly curved, bitable ass. The cat perked up his ears in interest, licking his chops as another desire began to emerge above the others.
Her ass.
She was going to die and the coroner would have to tell her next of kin the reason. Death by oral sex.
In her, admittedly wild past, she’d embraced her sexuality. Maybe a little too much. But though her memories had dimmed a bit with time, she knew without a doubt that she’d never been with a man this good with his mouth. Or this dedicated.
And his tongue. It felt coarse, unusually long. Like a cat’s. By her third orgasm she didn’t care what he was—animal, vegetable or mineral—she just wondered if he would ever stop. And that’s when she felt it. The flat of his tongue pressing firmly against her ass.
“Wh-what are you doing?” She lifted up onto her hands, turning to look over her shoulder. His eyes were dark, sparkling…primitive. He bared his teeth, a soft warning rumbling in his chest before he did it again. Licked her. There. Even the old Margo had never been that kinky.
What surprised her more than his action was her reaction. An erotic shock rocked her from the tip of his tongue to the top of her skull. Her arms began to tremble. Her heart raced with forbidden excitement, and she held her breath, waiting to see what he did next.
Thomas bit one cheek of her ass sharply, chuckling when she squealed in surprise. Then she was gasping, struggling for breath as he soothed the bite with his tongue, tracing her curves until he was licking the seam of her ass and pushing inside.
This has to be wrong.
It feels too good to be wrong, her little voice crooned. For once she had to agree. Her forehead ground into the floor when his fingers slipped inside her sex once more, matching the rhythm of his debauched and dangerous tongue.
Oh God, she was going to come again. She could feel it, feel her muscles tightening, the blood in her veins pulsing with it. So close. So close.
He reared up and gripped her hips in his hands. “Not yet. Not without me, kitten.”
Margo cried out at the feel of his thick cock entering her sex. He was big. Too big. Even with all his foreplay the stretch still bordered on painful.
He seemed to sense her hesitation. “You can take me, Margo. You were made for this. Made for me. Let me in.”
She arched her neck as he rocked himself against her, filling her inch by thick, unyielding inch.
“Fuck, Margo. Do you know what you do to me? You make me greedy. I want everything. Your soaking pussy around me, your sexy ass, your mouth. I want all of you.”
He bowed his body over her back, pulling her long hair to the side to take her ear between his teeth. The position pushed him further inside her, their breaths both labored as they struggled to register the sensations. The heat of him burned her skin, so hot she was surprised she didn’t hear the sizzle, see the steam.
She shifted her hips experimentally, and he stopped her with an inhaled hiss. “I’m trying to hold back, baby. My species, when they lose control… I don’t want to scare you.”
The gruff vulnerability made her melt. Suddenly, being in control sounded overrated. She didn’t want control. She wanted him. “You can’t scare me, Tomcat. I want it. Want everything.”
He opened his mouth over her shoulder and growled. A deep, warning growl that sounded ominous. Sexy. She could feel his teeth pinching her skin, but he didn’t bite her, didn’t pierce the skin.
She lowered herself onto her elbows, the action tilting her hips higher against him. Completely vulnerable, completely open, offering herself. His growling became a groan of desire, and he lifted himself off her back, one hand still gripping her hair. “Damn, kitten, you’re playing with fire.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but her thoughts dissolved with his first deep thrust. All she could do was feel. Raw need. Pure, carnal pleasure. He demanded her submission, and she gave it willingly, eagerly.
She could feel the hard ground scraping her knees as his unrelenting rhythm pushed her forward, the powerful slap of his hips against hers, but even that increased her arousal. Yes, harder. Yes, faster.
“Thomas.”
His name from her lips only drove him wilder. He lifted her hips high, until her knees were off the ground, pulling her back hard against his body. Again and again he filled her, the angle sending waves of ecstasy through her limbs. It crashed against her with more and more force, until she couldn’t hold back, until she had to give in to the power of it.
“Mine!” His shout blasted through the air, so loud she could hear it through the blood pounding a mad drumbeat in her ears.
She felt her eyes go wide, startled out of her own pleasure when his erection grew bigger inside her. “What’s happening?”
“Tell me you’re mine.” His voice was an unrecognizable growl behind her. His cock pulsed, the head so thick she wasn’t sure he would be able to pull out. “Tell me now, Margo.”
She couldn’t stop shivering, every move he made sending sparks of pleasure up her spine. “Yes, yes. Anything.”
“Mine.”
Another, smaller explosion rocked her as he came inside her. She collapsed on the ground, her body feeling like quivering Jell-O as he continued to pump inside her for long, delicious minutes. He was caressing the sides of her breasts, her back, the curves of her ass, as though he couldn’t stop touching her. She could feel the fine tremor in his hands, and she smiled, loving that he’d been as affected as she was. Loving that he’d lost control.
Lost control. She stiffened. Responsible Margo immediately began making lists of everything she’d just done wrong. Precautions not taken. Indiscretions not thought out. Contracts. Oh, God. This wasn’t her. What had she done?
Thomas sighed behind her, rolling away from her body, but not without leaving a tender kiss on her hip. “I don’t need to be telepathic to catch those thoughts. That’s okay, sweet Margo. You know how I love a challenge.”
Chapter Six
Had it only been five days? She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, studying the sexy woman that challenged her in the reflection. She did feel sexy. Sexier than the old Margo, despite all her bravado, had ever felt. She knew it was because of him. Thomas.
He’d barely left her side since that night in the pantry. He’d carried her to her room in his arms, moving with a speed that should have shocked her to avoid the cameras, and proceeded to make love to her with a reserve of energy that astounded her. His constant state of arousal wasn’t human. At least, it was like no non-medicated human man she’d ever known.
She’d woken the next afternoon with a cry on her lips and his head between her thighs. Finally convincing him she needed food, he went to his room to change, and she went in search of the others.
It broke her heart to see her friend, Julie, standing at the open front door with her luggage beside her. “No. What happened?”
Julie had smiled sadly, shrugging. “It’s what might happen. I have to leave, Kitty—I mean, Margo. I’m not sure why I entered in the first place. I prefer my paranormal heroes on paper. The real thing is, well it’s too much for me.”
Margo had shaken her head, reaching for Julie’s hand. “You’re braver than anyone I know, Julie. After all you’ve been through… Yeah, these guys put on an amazing show
, but you and I both know the difference between fact and fiction. They aren’t real. They can’t be. Is it Liam? Did he hurt you?”
Julie’s eyes had welled up with tears, but she’d chuckled, shaking her head. “Liam hasn’t touched me. I think he’s afraid if he shook my hand I’d shatter.” She’d lifted her chin. “I know you’ll think I’m crazy, Margo. But you’re wrong. These guys really are what they say they are. Vampires, cat shifters, even werewolves. They really exist. You’ll find out. I’ll talk to you when you get home. I can’t wait to hear about you and Thomas.”
Margo’s shocked expression had amused her. “I’m a writer, Margo. And I have eyes. Just be careful. Cats are notoriously finicky creatures. I don’t want you getting your heart broken.”
Wasn’t that the truth? Margo had watched Dugan help her into the bus before she turned to head toward the parlor. She gasped when she nearly bumped into Liam. “I’m sorry.”
“She’s been hurt.” It hadn’t been a question.
Margo nodded. “Badly. And I will personally geld the next man who makes her cry.”
Liam didn’t flinch. “Then we’re agreed.” He turned and hefted his camera on his shoulder, leading her back toward the others. Margo hadn’t been sure what they’d agreed to. But she had a feeling that though Julie was gone, she would be seeing Liam again.
The next day Joseph and Chi had joined Julie, Naomi and the others in leaving the castle before the week was up. Thomas had told her Chi left him a note apologizing for being derelict in her camera duties, but she needed to follow her heart. Thomas hadn’t seemed too upset. In fact, as soon as he’d told her, he’d led her into the dense wooded area beside the castle and taken her against a tree.
My Shifter Showmance: Shifting Reality, Book 1 Page 5
