by Rosalie Redd
As he moved to take care of the little predator, her hands trailed along his arm, her touch lighting up his nerves.
Demir lifted one of the rocks. Nothing. He looked at Aramie. Crouched near the entrance to the cave, she visibly shivered, her eyes wide. To see her so scared burned a hole in his gut, and a determination to protect her raced through him. It didn’t escape him that the threat was her own fear, but he’d find the spider, of that he had no doubt.
He returned to his search, moving rocks out of the way, one by one. At last, he came upon the small arachnid. He was in agreement with Aramie—he’d never much liked the hairy, multi-eyed critters.
Demir took off his boot. The movement must’ve caught the creature’s attention, because it skittered across the soft dirt.
Squish.
With great care, he checked the entire cave, every nook and cranny. He’d killed two more before he was done. “Justice has been served.”
“Thank you.” Aramie’s gaze bore into him. “I don’t like spiders.”
A smirk crept across his face, and he raised an eyebrow. “You don’t say.”
Her own smile turned into a wide grin. She’d always liked his sarcasm, and he enjoyed her response.
The pain in his hand and arm subsided to a minor ache, the skin knitting back together with his powerful Lemurian blood, but his shoulder pulsed with agony. Distracted by Aramie’s anxiety attack, he’d forgotten about his own injuries, but not anymore. A bead of sweat rolled from the tip of his hairline down his face.
“Demir?” Aramie crawled next to him. She wiped away the moisture from his brow. The arc of tension between them spiked, the pull almost physical in its intensity.
“Aramie—” He touched her barrette and traced his fingers through her thick, glossy hair.
“Shh…” She placed her finger over his mouth, pushed him down, and straddled his lap.
A strange thrill coursed through his body at her brazen attitude, and his stiffening shaft told him how much he was on board with this little exercise.
She tugged his shirt out of his waistband, her eyes focused on her task. The material bunched around his abdomen as she pulled. He lifted his arms, eager for her to eliminate this barrier between them. With one swift move, she ripped the shirt over his head.
Cold air hit him, cooling the sheen of sweat that coated his skin. The bite mark still pounded, but he was much more interested in the blood pulsing in his cock.
Aramie leaned back, her palms resting on his forearms. Her admiring gaze roamed over his chest and abs. A sly smile pulled at one corner of her mouth. She grazed her hands up his biceps, her nails scratching his skin, sending a thrill along his nerves that made his shaft jump.
When she reached his shoulders, he grabbed her hands. A warning growl erupted from his chest. “No further.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Demir’s warning lifted the hackles on the back of Aramie’s neck. His firm but tender grip around her wrists held her in place. An ache of rejection clenched her chest, and tears welled in her eyes. She glanced away, pulling against his grasp. Instead of releasing her, he drew her hands to his lips.
Tender kisses along her knuckles woke up her nerves, the sensitive skin alive and aware of every brush. The intensity of his gaze bore into her, roaming her face before returning to her fingers. “Don’t misunderstand, Aramie, I want you…I want you very much.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Why did you stop me?”
He sat up on his elbows, and focused on her eyes. “Call me old fashioned, but I like to be in control.”
Her heart skittered a beat. She’d spent her whole life avoiding this very situation. To give up control went against everything she believed, but when she looked into his eyes, she didn’t see the burning need to dominate her into submission. What she saw was compassion, and his own need to be strong.
Unsure what to do, she remained tense. She wanted to give herself to him, yet she didn’t know if she could. A tear slid down her cheek.
He let go of her hands and traced the tear with the back of his finger. She leaned toward him, and his other hand cradled her head, his tender fingers massaging the base of her neck. Relaxing under his ministrations, her body’s hyper-sensitive senses reacted to his every touch.
An uncontrollable purr radiated from her chest. The whiskers of his goatee tickled her skin as he smiled, and a warm chuckle filled with masculine pride eased from his throat. Her traitorous body shivered in response.
Without warning, he lay back down, pulling her with him. She hissed and her hands landed on his firm pecs. An appreciative growl reverberated from within him, the vibration causing her fingers to tingle. His breath smelled of mint and tea and mixed with his own masculine scent. Washed along by his tide, she couldn’t resist him.
His powerful kiss was tender, yet demanding. The electric current between them spiked, pulling her further under his spell. Strong, sensual fingers tracked through her hair and down her back. He gripped the edge of her shirt and pulled it over her head. With practiced skill, he unhooked her bra. The confining material fell forward, revealing her breasts. He studied her for a moment before his gaze met hers.
“Beautiful Aramie.”
The words came out on a slow purr, and she loved how his voice resonated within her body, intensifying her own desire. He traced a finger over the side of her face, along the contours of her neck, and to the small “V” of her breasts, leaving small shivers of delight in his path. Cupping one of her mounds in his palm, her pert nipples stood at attention, ready for his touch.
His cock jerked below her as she straddled him, his firmness making her wet with her own need. He raised his head, his breath tickling her breast. When he licked the fine bud, she shivered. Tension built within her, and the tips of her claws extended, digging into his arms.
Gently, he pulled her nipple into his mouth, circling the hard point with his tongue. The warm wetness and his nips brought her close to her climax. She’d never experienced anything this intense before, and a whimper born of need escaped her lips.
Without thinking, she trailed her hands up his arms to his neck, eager to touch every firm muscle under his taut skin. Before she knew what had happened, he flipped her onto her back. Dark and predatory, he consumed her with his yellow eyes. His hungry gaze sent a rush of pure, feminine pride through her body.
With quick hands, he removed her shoes. She unbuttoned her jeans and he grabbed them by the waist, pulling them off in short order, panties included. He straddled her, placing his firm legs on either side of her thighs. She quivered with anticipation.
“Strip.” The word came out a command, and she didn’t regret it. She wanted him as naked as she was.
His eyebrows shot up and the skin around his eyes creased, his eyes glowing with admiration. He smiled, and the diamond stud in his upper lip glinted in the dim light.
Her heart constricted. I love him. She’d fallen for this strong, proud male, and fallen hard.
They couldn’t be together, though. She wouldn’t bow down to a male, not even him. A deep cut shaved off part of her heart, and she’d never felt such a mixture of pain and regret. Her eyes moistened, but she gave him her best smile. They had today and she’d record every moment in her memory.
He unlatched his buckle, his abdominal muscles tensing against the pull of the belt. She traced her finger over each taut ridge, up to his pectoral muscles where the slightest tinge of dark brown hair curled between her fingers.
His ragged breaths raced over the back of her hands, tickling the fine hairs. A low moan emanated from his chest, echoing off the rocks in the enclosed space. In a physical response to his call, her skin heated as a rush of desire overwhelmed her.
He moved away from her long enough to kick off his boots and shed his pants. Careful in his movements, he seemed to hide something. She didn’t get time to think on it. A glimpse of his manhood and the heavy sac that hung below caused her to inhale. She’d fantasized
about him for a long time, and the reality was more than she’d ever imagined.
He must’ve noticed her attention because his cock pulsed. His low, sensual chuckle sent a rush of wetness to her core. She glanced at his face. A tic in his jaw and a furrowed brow indicated his fierce concentration.
He was all male—tough, lean, and firm.
She purred in admiration, aware that doing so invited him in.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Aramie’s scent cascaded over Demir’s senses, into his lungs and his bloodstream. She’d revved up his drive, good and hard, with that sensual purr. The pulse pounding in both his cock and his shoulder vied for attention, but with sweet Aramie sprawled naked before him, the pain faded.
A sheen of sweat had broken out on her body, her skin glistening in the dim light. She was beautiful, from her smooth dark hair to her crooked little toe. He admired the view and longed to make her comfortable, but the fine dirt lining the cave floor was all they had.
“Gorgeous Aramie.” He liked the way her name rolled off his tongue as he accentuated the “r,” drawing it out.
She shivered under his attention, and her purr increased in volume, an open invitation. Pulling gently on his arm, she encouraged him. He straddled her hips once again, the length of him jutting out over her soft abdomen. With a firm grip, she squeezed the tip of his shaft.
He hissed.
Her touch lit up his nerves, and he leaned in to kiss her, pulling himself out of her grasp. As he captured her mouth, their bodies brushed together. The skin on skin contact short-circuited his brain and his animal instincts took over. She responded under his onslaught, their tongues dancing together, their passionate kiss all about what was right between them. Tracing her fingers along his arms and into his hair, her nails dug into his scalp. Her rough claiming drew out his predator, and a low moan eased from his chest.
She arched into him, pressing against his arousal, driving him insane. When they came up for air, the tips of her fingers grazed down his neck. He ran his hands up her arms, entwining his fingers with hers. As he brought her hands over her head, he kept them away from his back, and the evidence of his weakness. He held both her wrists in one hand, locking her there.
Her body tensed. She seemed frightened, and that wouldn’t do. He ran his fingers over the soft skin on the inside of her arm, tickling her. “What is it, tough stuff?”
She shook her head and smiled, but the sly grin was forced. He looked into her eyes, searching for an answer. A fine warrior, not much scared her—except spiders and him, apparently. He stilled as the answer dawned on him. She’s afraid I’m going to make her my mate.
His cat cried out. Yes. That’s what he wanted to do, but he would never hurt her, never force her to bend to his will. The realization hit him like a punch. This high-spirited female with the dark hair and brazen attitude had crawled under his skin and touched his heart.
I love her.
His chest expanded, and he longed to make her his mate, but in doing so, he’d strip her of her identity, her need to be a warrior, and that would rip out everything he loved about her. He swallowed. No! There was no way that would happen. He’d show her what was in his heart, even if he could never give it to her.
“I won’t hurt you, Aramie, and I won’t…bite you. You have my word.”
She stared into his eyes for a long moment. Would she trust him? His heart raced. Suddenly, the question became the most important one he’d ever had. He held his breath. His heart pounded as he counted the seconds.
She exhaled and her body relaxed beneath him. “Kiss me,” she whispered.
He ravaged her mouth, pouring all his emotions into their embrace. She returned his kiss with a passion all her own. As her body moved beneath him she rubbed against his skin, sending sparks of desire to his balls. His cock hardened, the skin taut, straining with the rush of blood.
Kissing her cheeks, chin, the dimple in the crook of her neck, he savored every bit of skin he could reach. His free hand stroked the side of one breast, teasing her with his soft caress. She moaned under his assault.
He glanced at her face, eager to see the pleasure in her eyes. The usual brown color was gone, replaced with her yellow feline eyes. Her lips parted on ragged breaths.
With one knee and then the other, he spread her legs, opening up her core. The scent of strawberries intensified, and he breathed in her unique bouquet. The need to please her overwhelmed him, and he wanted nothing more than to make her come.
He glided his hand to the opening between her legs. Soft curls tickled the sensitive pads on his fingers. He twirled the fine strands enjoying how she squirmed beneath him. A tenderness filled him, and he vowed to make this a day Aramie would never forget. With utmost care, he rubbed his finger between her slick folds.
“You’re so wet for me.” He ground the words out through clenched teeth.
She bit her lip, soft pants escaping her mouth.
He growled his appreciation. Using one finger, he eased into her sheath. She shuddered beneath him and spread her legs wider, giving him easier access. A sudden urge to bite her overwhelmed him and his teeth elongated. He pursed his lips together, hiding them from her.
Her hips arched beneath him and his focus returned to her needs. He rubbed her firm clit with his thumb while he moved his fingers in and out of her passage. Her breaths grew ragged as he worked her. His focus remained on her face, soaking in her pleasure.
She stilled for a moment then bucked against him in a wild frenzy, her hands pulling against his grip. Her sheath tightened around his fingers as she came. He kept up his pressure, wringing out every last drop. When she quieted at last, he eased his hand from between her legs. A satisfied glint formed in her eyes, and she gave him a cute little smile. She raised her hips, rubbing herself against his member.
He closed his eyes and shivered. Good thing they weren’t human. Disease wasn’t an issue for Lemurians, and since the females were infertile, they didn’t have to worry about pregnancy.
Her slick folds washed over him, coating him with her wetness. A deep-seated need to claim her raced through him and his body shook. He briefly closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, unwilling to give in to his desire. When he opened his eyes, the devotion and trust reflected in her gaze melted his heart completely.
With a feral groan, he plunged into her warm passage. She gripped him, squeezing her inner muscles, coaxing him along. They established a rhythm and moved together in a sensual motion. As his desire increased, so did their speed. He gripped her hip with one hand, steadying her as best he could.
His balls tightened. White dots formed in front of his eyes. As he came, he stared into the eyes of the female he’d fallen for. Her gaze locked with his, and he swore she loved him, too.
When he was spent, he lay on top of her, his free hand stroking her cheek. His other hand still held her wrists, her hands captive over her head. As much as he wanted to give her his heart and soul, he couldn’t even give her access to his full body.
The dire thought wasn’t what he needed right now, and he shoved it into the back of his mind. His inability to open fully to her burned in his gut. I’m not worthy of her. If she saw his scars, she’d think him weak just like his father.
Rolling off her, he pulled her against him, cradling her head in the crook of his arm. They didn’t speak, each lost in their own thoughts. He couldn’t tell her what he wanted. It would only make things uncomfortable between them. He caressed her hair and glanced to the cave entrance. Shadows over the rocks indicated the sun was still high in the sky.
A spot of red caught his attention. Her barrette had fallen out of her hair during their coupling. He picked it up, and then handed it to her.
She stared at her trinket then looked at him. Her gaze darted between his eyes. She studied him for a long moment. When she spoke, her words were soft. “Would you put it in for me?”
This barrette was so important to her. For her to ask him to do so was a great hono
r, a sign of trust.
“How could I not, my Aramie.” He choked on the words, and they came out rough, strained.
She held open her palm, and he grasped her most precious object. With gentle care, he smoothed her locks, and clipped the strawberry-shaped jewelry into her hair.
A warm, shy smile broke out on her face. He was lost to her now. She was nothing like Eleanor, no, nothing at all. Aramie was so much more. Unlike submissive and quiet Eleanor, Aramie exuded strength and determination—and he loved her for it. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for Aramie now.
“We should try to get some sleep.” He kissed her hair, taking in her scent, the one he’d never be able to forget.
She snuggled up to him. Within minutes she snored, the little yips weaseling their way into his heart.
The skin on the back of his shoulder burned. He touched the bite mark. Wetness squeezed from the open sore. He glanced at his hand. Instead of red blood, a vibrant shade of blue coated his fingers. His hackles rose.
He rolled Aramie over and covered her with her clothes as best he could. Picking up his pants and shirt, he threw them on. He didn’t want her to see the wound, or the scars on his back and buttocks. A sense of unease rippled over his shoulders and down his arms. The bite still burned. Why hadn’t it healed already?
He lay next to Aramie. Placing his arm over her body, he spooned her, drawing her close to him. Her warmth and unique scent calmed his racing nerves. As he slept, strange thoughts of vodka, razor-like teeth, and an intense desire to kill became his nightmare.
Chapter Thirty-Five
The headache started again. Typically, Ram enjoyed pain, even when it was his own, but not this time. He sat on the rickety, whitewashed deck swing that graced the farmhouse’s porch—the one made for two lovers to gaze at the moon on a warm summer’s night. Please, poke me in the eye with a stick.
His vision blurred. Images of a small cave and Aramie in the throes of an orgasm flashed across his mind. Adrenaline surged through his body in a purely male response. He stood in a panic, the swing crashing into the back of his calf. A bruise he could live with, visions of sex with his enemy, not so much. Gossum had no need for sex. Ram wasn’t quite sure if it was one of the benefits of the transformation, or maybe it was a disadvantage.
