Shifter Fated Mates: Boxed Set

by Mandy M. Roth

  Lightly, he continued, “You’ll stay, and your body will release mine.”

  Kirill eyed the beautiful woman tied to his bed, waiting for her reaction to his words. Her face was blank, but it didn’t matter. He could see the disbelief in every subtle movement of her form. Her breath caught and held. Her fingers curled into light fists. He’d known the statement would irritate her.

  “In return, mine will give you pleasure,” he whispered with confidence. He watched her body shiver at the words.

  Sacred Cats! She was ravishing to behold. From the view he was afforded of her silky hip all the way up her side to the roundness of her breast, he knew she was naked beneath the traditional gown. Her darker nipple pressed against the transparent material, outlined to perfection.

  The darker region between her thighs drew his attention. Already, he knew she desired him. He could smell the scent of her as it filled his head. His mouth watered, eager to taste her. His lips parted slightly, wanting to taste the cream of her skin, the flavor of her essence. He wanted to ignite the passions he felt simmering beneath her fiery surface and at the same time slake his own burning needs.

  He’d been shocked to find her strapped down as an offering to a King. He didn’t doubt how she said she got there. Trust Falke, his ever-dutiful brother, to follow the old traditions to the letter. If this woman declared herself the future King’s woman and then, as he suspected she had, tried to escape Falke as he made her ready, his Commander brother could’ve very well tied her down without a second thought. A King’s wish in such matters was always followed.

  She was strong and frustratingly stubborn. Those traits were clear. But, beneath the stubborn exterior, he detected a vulnerability that made every fiber in his masculine being want to protect her and keep her safe. It’d been there in her eyes when he’d scared her in his shifted form. She’d never be more to him than a half-mate, a lover. But, to possess her, would be an honor worthy of a King.

  “No.”

  “No?” Kirill’s brows rose in surprise. What did she mean no?

  “That’s right. No. I’ll not be your mistress,” Ulyssa said. “I don’t want to be.”

  “It’s a position of great honor,” he countered.

  “Uh, still, no thanks. I’ll pass.” Ulyssa grinned smugly at him.

  “You are in no position to negotiate.” Kirill would never take an unwilling woman, but she had started the game between them and frankly he was amazed that she said no to him. He tilted his head and made a great show of taking a deep breath. Her longing filled him like a sweet, intoxicating perfume. “Besides, your body says you’d like very much to be my lover.”

  Ulyssa’s mouth fell open, before she grumbled wryly, “Nice try, barbarian. If you were going to ravish me, you’d have done it last night. Now, let me go before I get really mad.”

  “Perhaps I should ask nicely before you make your decision.” His voice practically growled as he grinned like a boy about to test a new sword. Slowly he made his way down to the foot of the bed, keeping his dark eyes on hers.

  Gradually, Kirill’s gaze slid down her frame, over her breasts, her waist, past her hips, until finally it stopped at the apex of her thighs hidden beneath the dark gown. His body curled forward as he moved onto the bed. Crawling on all fours, he came above her. His knees fitted between her loosely bound legs and he placed his palms down on the bed, outside of her thighs.

  Slowly, he looked up at her, taking his time as he studied her body beneath his. Dark hair spilled over his shoulders and down his back. A light of promise filtered into his piercing gaze.

  Ulyssa’s heart nearly stopped at the meaning in his expression. Her breath came out in raspy pants. For the life of her, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Kirill licked his lips as his finger drew forward to her knee. Lightly, he touched her and she trembled. Her eyes widened. A torrent of moisture pooled between her thighs and made ready for him.

  Watching his finger as if it was the most important task in the world, Kirill drew it in light circles up her inner thigh. The back of his hand edged up her skirt by agonizingly small degrees. Her leg twitched, falling slightly open in invitation. The movement caused his hand to still in its progress over her skin. Kirill moaned softly, leaning over to brush his lips against her raised knee. He didn’t kiss her, just allowed his lips to discover the texture of her skin in a brief caress.

  Ulyssa’s body jerked violently, giving away the depths of her need. Her center was wet, hot, nearly burning in anticipation. Her hands worked against the ties, fighting to be free. His lips brushed along her knee another time and she again jerked. Ripples of pleasure shot through her at the simple caress. Her back arched, offering itself up in invitation. She wanted more from him, so much more.

  Kirill groaned in approval of her passion. She was so purely wild in her untamed responses. Even though he knew a part of her fought what stirred between them, she wanted him. Suddenly, he stopped and pulled his hand back into a fist. Sitting between her legs, he studied her intently.

  “What?” she began, confused. Her lids fluttered as she searched for him in the dimness. “Why’d you stop?”

  “You belonged to my father, Lyssa,” he stated simply.

  Ulyssa tensed. “I belong to no man, especially not your father.”

  To her surprise, a smile flashed over his features at her words. “I truly pity any man who’d love you with his heart, for it’d be a weary battle to win yours.”

  Ulyssa felt the instant sting of tears at the words, but blinked them back. She didn’t care to wonder why the truth would feel like such a hard kick in the gut. Hadn’t she always said the exact same thing? But, to hear it from him seemed... painful.

  Kirill’s hand reached once more for her thigh, pushing the skirt up higher. His voice a low rumble, he asked, “Do you want this?”

  “It’s just sex, Kirill,” she answered, still hurt by his words and covering it with her straightforward way of talking. “I’ve had my intergalactic travel shots and I can’t get pregnant. We have nothing to worry about.”

  He stopped, considering her words.

  “What? I can’t call you Kirill? Do you really want me to shout out Your Royal Highness?” Ulyssa smirked.

  Kirill came forward and brushed his lips against hers. It was a kiss they both felt all the way down to their toes. Whispering along the corner of her mouth, he said, “No, in bed you may call me whatever you wish. In public it is my lord, my King, or King Kirill.”

  “You do realize that I’m not staying here.” Ulyssa bumped his nose playfully with hers.

  “You realize I can’t permit you to leave quite yet,” he answered, rubbing back.

  “I wasn’t asking for your permission.” She reached her tongue to trace the seam of his lips, trying to tempt him to madness. He tasted like wine—warm, delicious. “You have no power over me.”

  “I can’t allow you to leave.” Reaching out with his tongue, he did the same to her. His dark eyes bore down into her blue ones. “And I have power over everything in my land.”

  “It would seem we can’t reach an agreement,” she whispered. Her long lashes fluttered over her eyes, as the tips of their tongues touched and tangled in slow circles.

  Kirill sucked her tongue’s tip into his mouth and closed his lips around it as he slowly pulled back. “Mm, so it would seem.”

  Ulyssa moaned, unable to take the drawn out seduction. Her body hummed with fire. She needed him to fulfill the ache his nearness stirred. Parting her lips, she pushed up, ready to claim his mouth with hers in a searing kiss. He pulled back, as if he’d been anticipating her advance. He let a slow smile form on his mouth as he paused, letting her know that he was in control.

  Then, just as eagerly, he closed the distance and gave her what she craved. His tongue delved between her lips, sweeping past the barrier of her teeth to possess and explore as his mouth sawed heavily against hers. She met him fully, no hesitation. Her teeth bit lightly into his bottom lip,
as she sucked it into her mouth. Their loud moans intermingled in the bedroom, echoing off the walls.

  “Mm, you taste sweet,” he said into their kiss. “Like berries.”

  He roamed his hands over her sides, touching her skin through the laces. Reaching the side of her breast, his thumb slipped beneath the material to settle under a soft globe.

  “You skin is like silk.” Kirill’s kisses moved from her lips, trailing over her jaw to her throat. Small animalistic noises escaped him as he softly devoured her. Everywhere he touched a fire ignited in her flesh. She’d been with men, but none had provoked such a response as to make her lightheaded and giddy. “And it tastes like cream.”

  Ulyssa shivered in feminine pleasure. Never had she felt more like a woman than she did when he spoke to her. She suddenly didn’t mind being helpless to his whim.

  “Mm, berries and cream.” Kirill’s hands slid down to her hips. His tongue flicked her earlobe and then he sat back to watch as he pulled her skirt over her waist. His lids fell heavy over his eyes as the small thatch of hair was revealed to him. “I want to eat you all up.”

  Pleasure exploded as his mouth lowered onto her wet mound. Instantly, his long tongue met with her feminine lips, parting them so that he may take a deep taste. Ulyssa cried out. His hands held her steady as he lapped up the cream of her body. Her hips jerked and she almost climaxed against him. His low chuckle of pleasure reverberated between her thighs, vibrating against her.

  Teeth grazed the center nub of her desire. He licked her opening, only to suck gently. Ulyssa screamed. Kirill sucked harder, milking an orgasm from her body.

  Bright lights exploded beneath her closed lids. Her teeth bit hard into her lip, nearly drawing blood as the tremors overtook her. Her body became rigid as she bucked up from the bed, straining the bonds. She came hard against his mouth and still he wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t let the torment end. Only when she was weak and panting, begging him for mercy, did he pull back.

  A satisfied expression came to his dark features. He sat back, reaching to pull off his belt. Ulyssa fought for control, for reason. Her eyes devoured him, trying to focus as the tremors subsided. Soon, his shirt was unlaced and pulled over his head, revealing the bronzed perfection of his smooth chest.

  Ulyssa was almost too weak to move, but as she watched the slow seduction of his stripping, she found herself ready for more. Only, this time, she wanted him buried inside her. Her eyes moved down to the bulge of his arousal. Instead of revealing it to her curious eyes, he reached to untie her legs. Once freed, he gently massaged the blood back to her ankles. Her feet worked restlessly on the bed as he took his time touching her. Her legs stayed open, waiting for him.

  Seeing her gaze still trained on his erection, Kirill asked in a dark tone, “Would you like to see it?”

  Ulyssa nodded. Breathless, she panted, “Yes.”

  He smiled and stood beside the bed before tugging the laces along his thighs. The material slid off him to the floor. He stood proud, naked before her, letting her look her fill. His body was all sinew and muscle. Not a measure of fat marred his perfect, smooth frame.

  Ulyssa’s eyes darted to his arousal and she gasped in pleasant surprise. If anything, the smooth shaft was larger than it should have been on his slender body. She wasn’t sure if the enormous size excited or terrified her. It didn’t take long before her excitement won out. No wonder he had no qualms about undressing for her. With a weapon like that, it was a wonder he didn’t roam about naked all the time.

  “Mm, come here,” she purred.

  Reaching over with her foot, she ran her toes along his inner thigh. His movements were refined, stalking, graceful, as he crawled over her once more. She loved to see the dominating grace of his muscles as they rippled beneath his skin. His fingers found her laces and slowly parted her from her clothes, kissing her flesh as he leisurely undressed her. She writhed wildly against him, rubbing her calves restlessly over his back, his hips, along his sides, wherever she could reach.

  As his lips latched onto a ripened nipple to suck it gently, she growled, “Ah, untie me. I must be doing something wrong, because I’m on fire and you’re calm. Let me loose and I promise to make you lose control.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he said into her breast, moving to flick her other nipple with his tongue.

  “What the hell is that suppose to mean?” she demanded, stiffening. She rounded her eyes in horror as if he’d hit her. Moving her leg along his side, she tried to buck him from her body. Her eyes became moist and she blinked to keep from crying out in dismay and embarrassment. She struck him repeated along his waist with her thigh. He grunted at the discomfort, but did not stop his mouth’s onslaught.

  Kirill rose up coming to her lips. His leg trapped hers down, burning into her with his thick arousal. An arm wound its way to her thigh to hold it still so she couldn’t strike again. She suddenly became aware of just how strong the man-cats really were.

  Kissing her thoroughly breathless, he pulled back. Contemplative, he brushed back her golden hair and asked softly, “What happened to the confident woman who would dare defy a King?”

  Her throat worked nervously, she couldn’t move. His eyes stared at her, confident and sure and so in control. It looked to her as if he didn’t feel the passion at all. Yet, there was tenderness in him too, and that made her nervous. She ignored his softer side, concentrating on being angry and hurt.

  “Get off,” she growled. “We’re done here.”

  “That’s not what you wish,” he stated, self-assured.

  Ulyssa frowned. Damn him if he wasn’t right.

  “The nef you drank, which made you feel such great uncontrolled passion, gives me the restraint I need to see to your pleasure first. In doing so, I will increase mine.” Kirill stopped to kiss her again before moving to rim her ear with his tongue. Nibbling a tender lobe, he continued, “That’s why I can’t lose control. It has nothing to do with your many charms. The nef controls the beast within my kind. That’s why we drink it, to temper ourselves back.”

  Ulyssa frowned, not liking his unfair advantage. She wanted him as frantic and needy as she. Though, his explanation did mend her wounded pride.

  “If my drinking of it displeases you, Lyssa, I won’t before coming to you in the future,” Kirill said.

  Ulyssa tensed. Very carefully, so there was no mistake, she said, “This night is it, Kirill. There will be no in the future.”

  Kirill moved his hips to settle between hers in a graceful slide. She shivered as his hard heat neared her delicate opening. She was ready for him, so ready. Her body released cream at his nearness.

  “Is that a challenge?” he asked, a bold smile on his firm lips.

  “No,” she shot, glad that her voice came out hard and sure. “It’s a fa—ahhhct.”

  Kirill thrust forward as she spoke, cutting off her words as he imbedded his shaft deep inside her. Her eyes widened in amazement as his lips found the pulse at her neck. He nipped her skin, holding still as he let her tight body adjust to him.

  Ulyssa was no untried virgin and yet tears of pleasure-pain stung her eyes. Her lips parted, gasping in surprise. All logical arguments left her until all she could think was that he was larger than she’d first thought.

  “Do you hurt?” he asked, his voice impassioned, when she held still. His tone was concerned, but his lips didn’t stop their achingly torturous movement against her flesh.

  She shot forward, forgetting everything as she turned her mouth to capture his. She kissed him hard and long, moaning in pleasure. He growled into her mouth and she breathed in the sound of it. Her hips moved, urging him to thrust.

  To her surprise, he slid deeper still until his hips were seated flush against hers. Every fiber inside her being reached for him. She arched, pressing her stomach and breast to rub against his heat. He moved, slowly at first, as he worked his body in a tantalizingly precise rhythm against her. He took it easy, driving his hard shaft in
shallow thrusts until she got used to his size.

  Fire and tension pooled in her hips, stoked to a fevered pitch. Her cries of pleasure joined his softer grunts, as she squirmed for more. She tried to hook a leg around his back. With a growl, he grabbed it and slung her knee over his shoulder, opening her wider to him. The tempo of his hips built, faster, harder, digging into her, rocking in and out of her warmth in long strokes, until they pushed against each other in searching need.

  Kirill lifted up. She watched his muscles, swimming wonderfully erotic beneath his skin. He was perhaps the most beautiful man she’d ever seen—rugged yet refined. His dark hair tickled her breasts. Her arms strained. She wanted desperately to touch him, but her bonds were too tight.

  “Oh, my! Kirill!” Ulyssa screamed into the bedroom as she neared her rocky climax. Suddenly, an earthquake let loose inside her skin her she shook with the force of it. Her whole body tensed, helpless against the tides of passion.

  Kirill’s yell joined her, just as loud and violent as he too stiffened. He froze like a glorious statue above her, his body tight, his mouth opened wide, the cords of his neck strained. Her passage clenched him, spurring on his release, milking the seed from his body.

  As the tremors subsided, Kirill fell forward. His elbows braced his weight so he didn’t crush her. Playfully, he licked her cheek before rolling off her. Within seconds, he had her hands untied and was massaging the feeling back into them.

  Ulyssa watched him, weak and in awe of his gentle strength. He said nothing as he dropped her hands and pulled her into his chest. He held her to him, curled intimately around her naked body.

  She felt the hard length of him pressed protectively to her skin. Her head nestled onto the crook of his arm and her back stretched along his strong frame. His knees bent forward into the backs of hers. A strong arm draped over her waist and his fingers wrapped possessively around her soft breast, over her heart. She’d never been protected before, not even as a child. It was a strange sensation, one she didn’t want to dwell on.