Chapter Ten
It was happening already—the feline genes exerting themselves in bossy orders. Next would come the demand she give up work and become a good housewife and mother.
“I don’t want to discuss it. You know the truth now and can leave.” Lana dragged her weary body over to the door and opened it, standing to the side while waiting for him to depart.
Duncan strode to her side and shut the door. “You’re exhausted, so we’ll talk later, but I’m not leaving you like this, thinking I’m going to walk away.”
“I don’t need you,” Lana snapped.
“You can’t do it on your own. Dammit, I’m not Jamie. He was my cousin, and I loved him. He had his faults and could be a stubborn son of a bitch. Come on. Let’s go to bed.” He took her arm and Lana found herself propelled toward the bedroom. She was too tired to fight him.
“You can sleep on the couch.”
Duncan ignored her and unfastened the buttons of her blouse.
“I’m not having sex with you.”
“What kind of man do you think I am? You’re tired and almost falling on your face. Stop arguing and get in bed.”
He helped her remove her clothes and pulled back the sheets for her to slide into bed. Physical exhaustion tugged at her and she drifted toward sleep. She was vaguely aware of the mattress depressing beside her and Duncan wrapping an arm around her waist. A protest formed and faded because fatigue claimed her. Too tired to fight.
* * * * *
Lana woke slowly, her eyes opening cautiously as they had since she’d started suffering from morning sickness. Then she realized she wasn’t alone. A masculine body cuddled up to hers. Duncan. Memories of the previous evening rushed back to her. She’d told him everything.
“Lana. You’re awake,” he murmured, his fingers trailing up and down her bare arm.
She rolled away and her stomach lurched. Lana jumped from bed and sprinted for the bathroom, barely making it in time. When she felt well enough to leave, she found Duncan waiting for her.
“Can I get you something?”
“Dry crackers from the pantry.” Lana watched him walk away, torn by conflicting emotions. Why was he still here? Oh yeah. He probably wanted to claim their child, which landed her in the same trouble yet again. He couldn’t bulldoze her into mating. No way. No how. Although she had no idea how things would play out, anything would be better than repeating the mess with Jamie.
“Here you go. Do you want tea?”
“Not yet,” she said. What was with all the domestic stuff? It didn’t impress her much. She nibbled on the crackers.
“Have you visited a doctor?” His gaze dipped to linger on her stomach.
Realizing she wore not a stitch, Lana grabbed a wrap from behind the door and yanked it on to cover her body. “Yes. When are you leaving?”
“I’m not.”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” Lana said, her tone snippy. She turned away and walked to the kitchen. Luckily the crackers had settled her stomach. All going well she might get to the restaurant earlier than usual.
Duncan padded up behind her, grasping her forearm and propelling her into the lounge. “This isn’t settled.”
Lana lifted her chin, her eyes narrowing. “Duncan just leave. It’s been nice, but it’s over. We both knew it wouldn’t last.” She wrenched from his touch and walked across to the couch, sitting and nibbling on a cracker while pretending disinterest. Inside she cried at the situation she found herself in with Duncan.
“Bullshit,” Duncan growled. “Dammit, woman. I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time and damned if I’m going to walk away. Did you hear me?” he roared. “I love you.”
“I suspect they heard you in Middlemarch,” she said after a long pause where they stared at each other. He loved her? The oomph faded from anger, her annoyance softening.
“Aren’t you going to say something?”
“Like what? It changes nothing.” And it didn’t. The same problems remained.
Duncan cursed. “Bloody Jamie. If he were here, I’d smack him one.” He prowled across the room and sat at her side, taking her hand in his. “I love you. That doesn’t mean I expect you to follow my every order or give up your restaurant. We’re adults. We can plan something that works for both of us.” He traced his fingers over the back of her hands, bringing a shiver. “There’s no reason we couldn’t hire a housekeeper or nanny or combination of the two. If you can think of something else to make things easier, we’ll do it. I refuse to walk away from you again.”
“Again?”
“I’ve loved you for a long time, Lana, since before you mated with Jamie.”
“You never said anything,” she said, surprised.
“I’m saying it now. I love you, we will mate and that’s final.” His scowl dared her to disagree.
Lana melted inside. She wanted to say yes, but instinct long ingrained held her back.
“Do you love me?” he demanded.
“Yeah.”
“Don’t sound so happy.”
A laugh escaped Lana and his glower dissolved into a grin. “What if we tried a compromise?”
“I’m listening.”
“Could we live together for a while first?”
“You want to ease into it to make sure I keep my word,” Duncan said. “Make sure I don’t change and order you to stay home and have babies.”
Said like that, it made her feel terrible. “Jamie changed.”
Duncan laughed. “No need to get defensive. We can live together and take things slow. I’m fine with that as long as you’ll consider mating.” He caressed her cheek and traced his fingers across her lips. “I know what I want. I want you.”
Something inside her cracked, emotions pouring through her both cleansing and empowering. Lana melted into his arms, realizing she’d been fighting something she wanted since the weekend of the rodeo. This might work after all. Their lips met, drifting together in a kiss of promise, of giving and taking and intimacy. When they pulled apart, his expression held open love, stealing her breath with the sweetness and sheer need.
Duncan cupped her cheek with his hand. “Walk into the future with me?”
“One day at a time, right?”
“Anyway you want, sweetheart. We’ll make this work.”
“Yes.” Lana smiled and leaned over to kiss him again. Somehow, she thought they would make their relationship work.
* * * * *
Three Months Later
Lana prowled into the sunny room they used as an office. “Duncan, I need sex. Now.”
“Isn’t that what got you into trouble in the first place?” His green eyes twinkled, his gaze running over her so intimately it felt as if he glided his hand over her bare arm. Duncan liked to touch, to stroke.
The thought of his callused fingers trailing over her naked body brought a rash of chill bumps to her skin and the steady thrum of desire. She backed up two steps and unfastened the plain cotton blouse she wore, following that with her bra. Her clothes whispered to the ground and a soft groan escaped when her heavy breasts spilled free. With her pregnancy they were much bigger and more sensitive. Lana tugged the loose black skirt down her legs and stepped out of it, leaving herself naked.
Duncan leaned back in his chair, making it squeak a protest. Traces of a smile played on his mouth. “No panties?”
“I thought it might save time.”
“It’s getting colder,” he observed, a possessive expression on his face when his eyes skimmed her swollen belly.
Lana took pleasure in his scrutiny, even if she didn’t let it show. She was his, just as he belonged to her. It was time. “I’m not cold.” No, inside she burned with desperate need. This pregnancy had done more than swell her belly and breasts. It had made her horny. “If you’re just going to sit there, I’ll do the job myself.”
“I’m not sure what you have in mind. Spell it out for me.”
She could do that. In fact, Lana knew the per
fect way to spell it out for him. “You should take off your shirt,” she said. “It’s going to get hot in here.”
His brows rose, and she caught a flash of teeth when he grinned. “I guess I could do that.” Seconds later, his denim shirt hit the floor.
Lana skimmed her fingers across the plump curve of one breast and pinched a nipple. A ribbon of sensation sped straight to her clit, and she moaned, so good she repeated the move before widening her stance. This time her hand smoothed over her belly and slipped between her legs. She grazed her clit, taking the teasing a notch higher. Her folds were damp with her arousal and the buzz of pleasure told her it wouldn’t take long to get off. She didn’t want that.
“Is there a reason I needed to take off my shirt?”
“Yeah, to improve the scenery,” she said, stroking herself again for the sheer pleasure of it.
“Maybe I should ring for Leo Mitchell. He’s the pretty one according to the gossip I heard last time I visited the vineyard.”
“Nah, I don’t need Leo. Besides, Isabella might object.” Leo might look fine, but it was Duncan she lusted after. Without dropping her gaze, she sauntered toward him, hips swaying. Unable to resist, she leaned over, rubbed her breasts against his chest and stole a kiss.
“Hmm, I don’t need to finish this bookwork right now.” His hands spanned her waist and in one easy move, he lifted her onto his lap, arranging her body so they faced each other. Her legs splayed, leaving her wide open.
“Good decision.” Lana nuzzled his neck, nipping him before soothing the spot with a moist kiss.
“I love you,” Duncan whispered.
His words gave her a thrill as they always did. “I love you too. Touch me.”
“With pleasure.” He cupped a breast and dipped his head, taking her nipple into his mouth. The hard draw of his mouth made her groan. The gentle massage of his hand on her other breast sent currents of enjoyment through her. Arching into him, she silently encouraged greater pressure.
“Duncan, more. I need more.”
Duncan let her nipple go to grin at her. “Woman, you’re wearing me out. I’m still recovering from this morning.”
Lana snorted. “You got me in this situation, you deal with the consequences.”
“Are you going to let me take off my jeans?”
“Not yet. I thought I’d get you as hot and needy as I am first.”
He leaned back a fraction, still grinning at her. “Do your worst.”
Lana couldn’t restrain her own smile. If she did this right, she’d bet she wouldn’t even need to walk to the bedroom. He’d go all alpha on her and stride down the passage to their bedroom carrying her. Even thinking about it, her feline exerted its will. Claws grew beneath her fingernails and her teeth began their change. A growl sounded. Her growl.
“I love you,” Lana said, and she kissed his lips before striking at his neck. Her teeth bit through his flesh, his body bucking against hers. Instead of yanking away, his hand cupped her head, holding her close. He groaned, his entire body shuddering as her tongue rasped across the place she’d bitten him. With one final lap of her tongue, she released him. “Mine.”
His eyes glowed an eerie green, his feline close to the surface. In a swift move, he stood, sweeping her into his arms. The trip to their bedroom passed in the blink of an eye and she scarcely had time to move before he’d stripped off his jeans, boxers and socks to join her on the bed.
“You’ve marked me.”
“Yes.” And she didn’t regret it in the slightest. He’d proven time and again how much he loved her, cared for her. It was the little things like bringing her a cup of tea in bed, giving her a backrub and ringing to say hello in the middle of the day, even though she knew he’d been busy. The way he helped to wash her hair when she was so tired she could hardly stand but needed to rid her body of the cooking smells because they made her nauseous. Duncan wanted her and the baby.
“It hurt.”
“Yes.”
“On your hands and knees,” he ordered.
Without argument Lana rolled and pushed up on hands and knees. A shudder of delight pulsed through her and she felt the wetness at her core. Whenever he issued orders in that tone her body softened and prepared for his possession. She enjoyed submitting to him in the bedroom.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” she said with utter confidence.
Duncan took his time. The skim of his hands sent a warming shiver from head to toe until each inch of her skin tingled. His breath warmed her inner thighs and the lash of his tongue across her clit made her eyes flutter closed. Spending the rest of her life with this feline male no longer filled her with panic. Instead love engulfed her with each sensual caress of his hands. Her heart pounded as he kissed her spine, whispering his love for her with each soft caress. Carefully, he widened her stance and moved behind her, guiding his cock to her.
Lana held her breath when he pushed into her, the slow stretching of her sensitive tissues feeling so good her breath hitched. He kept pushing into her until he was balls deep.
“Lana,” he said, his voice breaking. “I love you so much.” He pulled out and thrust into her again, curling over her spine. His lips brushed the flesh at the juncture of neck and shoulder and his teeth nibbled on the delicate skin.
“Do that again,” she said.
“I’m in charge.”
“Yes.”
“You belong to me.”
“Yes,” Lana agreed. “And you belong to me.”
“I do.” Duncan licked back and forth across her skin until she trembled with desire. He surged and retreated, making love to her, allowing need to build. One of his fingers teased her clit, timing his strokes with his thrusts. The pleasure grew from a tiny pinpoint at her clit, enlarging until it cascaded over her entire length. She groaned, the pleasure so great it was almost painful. Then she shattered, a powerful explosion that made her gasp and milked Duncan’s cock. He surged into her with swift strokes until his cock jerked with explosive contractions. At the same time his sharp teeth sliced into the flesh at her neck, his tongue lapping away the bleeding.
They remained like that for long moments. Duncan finally moved, pulling from her body and drawing her into his arms.
“Mine,” he said.
Lana kissed him and whispered yes, her heart full of love for this feline male.
“We belong to each other,” he said with clear satisfaction, and started making love to her again.
Lana slid her lips against his, glorying in his kiss, the competent and possessive grip of his hands. No doubt about it, she belonged with Duncan, and there was no place she’d rather be.
Bonus Chapter
Mitchell Farm, Middlemarch, New Zealand
Feline Shapeshifter Council Meeting.
Present: Saber Mitchell, Sid Blackburn, Kenneth Nesbitt, Agnes Paisley, Valerie McClintock, Benjamin Urquart
“This idea to allow suggestions from the community is turning into a farce.” The tip of Valerie’s narrow nose quivered and her nostrils flared. She reached into her handbag and pulled out a sheaf of papers. They thumped to the table, and Saber noticed the black surge of claws beneath her fingernails as the cups rattled on their fine china saucers.
Sid reached out and patted her hand. “It can’t be that bad.”
“It’s worse,” Agnes snapped. “I thought felines were clever and intelligent. I’m doubting my assessment.”
Curious, Saber glanced at the assortment of papers—different colors, different pen inks, different handwriting. “May I?” he asked Valerie.
She gestured have at it and reached for a pikelet topped with strawberry jam and whipped cream.
“Read them out, lad,” Sid said. “I’ll write a list.”
Agnes sniffed, her lips pursed in a disapproving prune. “Disregard the ones without names. They shouldn’t be counted.”
Saber picked up a pile and scanned the first. His brows rose.
“Re
ad it,” Valerie snapped.
Saber glanced at the men and received a nod from each. He shrugged. This was turning into an interesting meeting, and it wasn’t his job to head off trouble. Not all the time.
“Wet T-shirt competition at the pub,” he read aloud.
“See? See what I mean?” Valerie demanded.
Agnes sniffed. “Who suggested that? Is there a name?”
Saber glanced at the men and again they nodded. “Brian Paisley Junior.”
Agnes hissed and bristled, the salt-and-pepper hair on her head lifting in a catlike manner.
“Your grandson?” Valerie asked. “I expected better from your family.”
“Now, now. None of that,” Sid said in his amiable manner. “Boys will be boys. Read the next lad.”
“A rave,” Saber said. “Edwina McClintock.”
“What’s a rave?” Kenneth asked.
“Is-is that a bad thing?” Valerie asked in a faint voice. “I can’t believe my granddaughter would suggest something wicked.”
Kenneth pulled out a fancy smartphone and tapped several keys. “A rave is to talk wildly or incoherently. It also means to speak about something with enthusiasm or admiration.” He pulled out a hanky to mop his brow. “I don’t understand.”
“Why do they want a speech competition?” Ben wrinkled his pixie nose, his piercing green gaze stabbing at each of them and broadcasting confusion.
Saber swallowed his chuckle. “In modern terms a rave is an underground party with electronic music.”
Agnes sniffed. “An excuse to have sex and take drugs.”
“Not necessarily,” Saber said. “I don’t think a rave would work here in the country, but we could have a day-long music festival with a variety of acts.”
“No,” Agnes said.
Valerie took off her glasses and peered at the lenses. “Definitely not.”
“I like country music,” Kenneth said. “We could invite that Keith Urban bloke. He has New Zealand connections.”
Saber fought a grin and shuffled the papers in his hand.
Sid scrawled in his notebook. “I’ve added it to the list. What’s next, lad?”
“A treasure hunt,” Saber said.
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