by Thorne, Elle
Outside Anya’s window, the wind whistled through the leafy branches. The branches created flickering silhouettes, tattooing the walls with shapes that moved and shifted every time the breeze picked up. The villa was quiet. Pepper had gone to bed long ago after a bubble bath and story reading. Little Red Riding Hood—except, in Pepper’s version, the wolf was the hero.
Anya hadn’t been able to contain her smile.
She hadn’t seen Bryson since dinnertime, though she’d heard his voice when Pepper went downstairs to tell him good night. Anya hadn’t left her room. She’d slipped off her bra, changed into her sleeping shorts and tank, washed her face, and got into bed.
Hours later, here she was…still lying in bed, wide awake. Her excitement over seeing Astra had left her with a buzz that didn’t allow her body to slip into a resting state.
So, she stared at the shapes the wind and trees were making on the wall.
This isn’t going to work. I need to be rested so I can do my job.
She felt his approach before she heard it. In fact, she didn’t hear him at all. He advanced with silent stealth, light on his feet, exactly as she’d expect a leopard shifter to be. She felt his pulse in her body, his essence in her nerve endings.
Then he appeared in front of her open door, blocking the light cast into the hallway by Pepper’s fairy nightlight.
Her breath caught, not with fear, but with anticipation of this man, sexy, muscular, alpha, standing in her doorway. She sat up, back against the wooden headboard, legs drawn close to her body, as if she was trying to form a shield.
He watched her moving on the bed, and she knew that, even though the room was bathed in dimness, his shifter vision allowed him to see her features and he’d know her eyes were open.
Toe, heel, toe, heel, he drew nearer, until he was directly in front of her, alongside the bed.
“You can’t sleep.” His voice was a low rumble, a sound of the jungle.
She shook her head slightly.
“Want to talk about it?”
“I’ve never been good at that,” she whispered.
“Neither have I.” He took a seat on the edge of the bed, the mattress giving a light exhale as he put his weight on it. “We don’t have to talk about your emotions.”
“Do we have to talk at all?”
What the hell? Where did that come from?
Her tigress. Anya knew where the question was leading. She knew the tigress was taking control. Sometimes, it was easier to let her tigress have control because doing emotions wasn’t easy, not even on a good day. It was particularly difficult after a day like today.
“No, we don’t have to talk.” His thumb brushed her bottom lip, tracing and tugging with gentle pressure.
A shudder passed through her at the intensity of his gaze, sheer molten lust in the amber flame of his leopard. Bryson leaned closer, his eyes glowing in that gorgeous chiseled face.
A sound, one she couldn’t identify, caught her attention.
Her glance slid sideways, wondering what that had been. Bryson’s gaze followed hers toward the window.
“I’m checking it out.” She pulled herself out of his embrace, half-pushing him away, half-twisting to the side and swinging her legs to the floor.
“Not alone, you aren’t.” He frowned at her.
She opened the window. then glanced back at him. “You stay here and take care of Pepper. She needs you.” She shifted into her tigress with the slightest sound of stretching and clicking, then leaped out the window to the ground below.
Anya sniffed the cool air, raising her muzzle to the sky. She found no scent of anyone, human or shifter.
That means nothing if they’ve used hunter’s block.
Her tigress growled in agreement.
Leaving behind the dimly lit villa, the tigress padded softly through the manicured grass toward the wooded area surrounding Bryson’s villa, pausing every so often to listen to the night sounds for anything that seemed out of place and to test the air for any hint of a scent.
She made short work of reconnoitering the perimeter of the villa and the woods surrounding it, but came back to the same window she’d leaped out of without a clue to what had created the noise.
It must have been nothing.
A gentle fog was settling on the grounds, making the backyard seem supernatural and strange. The hair on the tigress’s neck rose, and a current rushed through her.
She looked into the shadows under a large tree near the wall. The shadow moved slightly.
And yet, none of the tigress’s alarms were going off. Her eyes narrowed, she studied the shadows.
A huge figure stepped out, dark amber in color. Large paws padded her way, pushed forward by powerful haunches. A massive head sat on a powerfully thick neck, just above a wide chest.
He paused, this giant of a leopard, and watched her with golden eyes, measuring her tigress.
Bryson. In his leopard.
She studied his power, his gracefulness, his complete control. She felt his mind pushing against hers in an attempt to establish a sync with her. She didn’t allow it immediately, letting her tigress fully surveil his leopard. After her tigress had chuffed a greeting, Anya allowed the link between them to open so they could communicate silently, in the way of shifters.
But Bryson said nothing. He moved closer, until his head was next to her shoulder, then he pushed against her. The sexual tension between them was a palpable lifeline that coursed through her veins. A ripple washed over her—much more than a shudder.
He pulled back and studied her with a dangerously gleaming gaze. What did you find? he asked in their communication sync.
Nothing, she responded. Concern pulsed through her. Where’s Pepper?
In a safe room.
Unchecked emotions ran through her tigress’s body. Desire for this man, this magnificent leopard. You never showed me the safe room.
I planned to.
* * *
Bryson watched the white tigress with the green glittering eyes. Her mistrust of others, human or shifter, was evident. What would it take to gain her trust?
Walk with me? He issued the invitation, unsure of her response.
She hesitated.
Pepper couldn’t be any safer than where she is right now. A safe room within a safe room. Designed and built by Cas, he added.
She cocked her tigress head on its elegant neck clad in gleaming white fur with ebony stripes. How do you know Cas?
Long story. We go way back. Let’s just say I’d trust him with my life. With Pepper’s life.
He took two steps away then turned back to see if she was going to follow, if she’d take him up on his offer to walk.
She joined him, and they began a slow walk, stealthy and quiet, around the villa.
You trust him, too, don’t you? he asked her.
I do. He’s saved my life. What happened to Pepper’s mother?
Here was a chance to get her to open up. He threw an idea out, If I tell you, will you share something with me you’ve never told anyone else?
She turned to look at him, still matching him stride for stride.
He didn’t wait for her to answer. Waiting would give her the option to say no. There were no options between them as far as Bryson was concerned. The only option he’d consider was that she was his mate. Forever.
So, he started, Pepper’s mother was a hybrid, too. It was one night, just once. We were friends, and we had Pepper. We remained friends after, and, for a while, we co-parented. But she struggled, between her leopard and her elemental. Then, one day, her elemental killed her leopard.
In his head, he heard her gasp, the human sound almost foreign in his mind. It occurred to him how rarely he’d synced in his life.
Anya paused, then asked, I thought she was still alive.
She’s still breathing, but the Bianca I knew, the Bianca that was Pepper’s mother, is gone. She doesn’t acknowledge me or Pepper any more. I didn’t know what to tell Pepper.
So, I let her think her mom died when she was little because it’s easier than thinking that your mom doesn’t want you.
Her tigress released a low, mournful howl in his head.
Wait a second. You’re saying an elemental killed her leopard. Is that common?
They were halfway around the villa. A low growl brought them to a halt, and he looked into the darkness of the trees. At the edge of the thicket, a shadow stepped forward. A German shepherd.
The dog snarled, baring its teeth.
Bryson took two steps forward and growled back. The dog whimpered and ran away.
Maybe that was what they’d heard to begin with…
He returned to their conversation, catching a gleam of amusement in the tigress’s eyes. Anya, I have no idea what’s common or not with hybrids. I have zero experience with these things.
So, what’s going to happen with Pepper? Will she deal with the same struggle as her mother?
I’ll never let that happen to Pepper.
How can you prevent it?
I’ll have to ask someone who knows. Maybe your friend Astra. She has an elemental.
You noticed?
I did. I guess you get used to looking for that once you’ve encountered it. I wondered if you’d seen it in her eyes.
They were back in front of her window.
Ladies first. He stepped back. One powerful leap and she was out of sight. He followed her up.
She was already shifted back into her human skin, and he followed closely behind. Both of them were rumpled and wrinkled, still wearing the same clothing they’d shifted in.
He picked up the cell phone he’d hidden before he shifted and powered it on. Accessing an app, he turned it to show it to her.
“See? Sleeping like a baby. This isn’t the first time she’s been in the safe room, and she knows not to come out until I come for her.”
She took the phone from him and studied the image of Pepper asleep in her bed in the safe room. Safe. For now. “What would it take to eliminate the threats to Pepper in their entirety?”
“I think that’s another question I’d ask Astra. How to protect my baby from others as well as herself.”
“You can access the safe room remotely?”
“Cas set it up. And it’s untraceable, so even if someone hacked into my phone, there’s no way they could figure out where she is or how to get there.”
“That’s sophisticated. I don’t deal with the high tech or cyber part of Cas’s business. Are you going to wake her up and take her to her room?”
“I think I’ll let her sleep for a while. I have plans for the next couple hours.”
* * *
The tone in his voice made her look into his eyes. “What kind of plans?” she asked the question, though the signal the amber glow his gaze gave off told her what kind of plans.
His tongue ran deftly over his lips while a growl came from deep within his chest. He took the phone from her and threw it into the upholstered wing chair.
When he licked his lips again, her chest clenched. A warmth ran throughout her. She wanted to tear her focus away from his face, away from those lips and mesmerizing eyes, but damned if she could. He closed the distance between them again, his face lowering. Her lips parted in anticipation, his breath warm.
Before she could plan or react, he plunged his tongue into her mouth, owning her. He rubbed his lips over hers, almost like a primeval ritual that hearkened to them from ages ago. His heartbeat synchronized with hers, keeping a rhythm that pounded in her ears.
He pulled back, leaving her feeling empty. A low moan escaped her at the loss.
“The secret,” he reminded her.
Anya couldn’t process. Secret? What secret?
“You owe me a secret.”
Damn, he was right. Fuck, was he serious? He was interrupting this for a secret?
“I’ve never felt this way before.” And that’s the God’s honest truth.
No man had ever affected her like she was affected by Bryson. And it was much more than merely “being affected,” it was like being in the middle of a hurricane in a lifeboat. Except the lifeboat had Bryson and heaven on it.
His lips swooped in for the kill again, taking her prisoner. His mouth owned hers. She dug her nails into his shoulders, felt the ache as her tiger claws pushed through her skin and dug into his flesh. He flinched and crushed her to him.
She heard them erupting first, then she felt them. His fangs. Her tongue traced his leopard canines, relishing the leopard part of him that had come out, though he was still all human—complete and totally male.
He slid large hands down her back until he’d cupped her ass, squeezing the full cheeks.
His kiss grew deeper as he plunged the depths of her mouth.
She retracted her claws and dug her fingers in deeper, pulling him in closer. Between them, his erection was a full-fledged transmission of the desire he had for her.
God, he felt amazing. She, the Ice Princess, had finally melted as surely as if she had a volcanic wave traveling over her.
His hands on her body, his lips on her mouth, her breath trapped in burning lungs, all of it, fucking amazing. Her nipples pearled against fabric, aching to be touched, aching to be released.
The volcanic wave coursed over her, again and again, heating her to her very core. She lost herself in Bryson and gasped for air.
“Your scent is gone, but your body’s pulse and reactions tell me what I need to know.”
She nodded. This had to happen. This was more than just about her. This was about her tigress. In her head, the tigress snarled her agreement.
She placed her lips against his chiseled jaw and ran her fingers upward into his hair, scoring the flesh.
“You’re mine,” he groaned.
And she was powerless to deny the truth.
* * *
In seconds, Bryson had her stripped. She stood naked before him, a full-figured goddess curved just right. He cupped her breasts, lifting the weight as if testing them, enjoying the way they filled his hand.
He felt her heartbeat racing then she groaned, throwing him over the edge.
Fuck, he’d wanted their first time to be slow, but he couldn’t. His leopard wouldn’t be contained. His leopard had to have her tigress—and now!
She pushed closer to him, as if telling him that she knew the need and was equally driven.
He wanted to make her happy, to give her pleasure, but he could see her tigress and his leopard weren’t willing to wait for their human counterparts.
He brought his head down closer to her chest and took a hard nipple in his mouth. Her hands, already tangled in his hair, pushed him lower while he sucked on a rosy tip.
He lowered his other hand, slowly, over a soft belly, then touched the top of her slit, careful not to encounter her clit.
Not yet.
“Bryson.” Her whispered invitation made his cock twitch.
Bare of any hair, he let his finger slide along the slit, still careful not to touch the center of pleasure.
Heated moisture greeted his index finger as he lowered his hand, more and more. “So fucking wet. For me.” His words were a growl, fueled by his lust.
He thrust a finger in, unable to curtail the need to feel her closing around him.
With a gasp, she took his finger in, her muscles tightening, her body pushing forward to take more.
He pulled it out, then in again, watching her expression as lust traveled across her features. He added another finger, and she writhed against him, her wetness dripping down his finger.
He let go of the nipple with a pop. “I want to taste that sweetness.”
“I want you. God, Bryson. Now.”
That’s all it took to completely veer him off one course and onto another. He undressed, his clothing slid to the floor with a whisking sound.
She put her hands flat on his chest, running them lower. His abs tightened as his breath caught in his throat. Pulling her closer, trapping h
er hands between their bodies, he swept his tongue into her mouth, seeking, probing, claiming.
Head thrown back, her lips yielded to him. His sanity flew out the window. He picked her up and took her to the bed, his cock aching with every step as he drew closer to the mattress.
Within seconds, they were on the bed, her legs wrapped around his waist. He pulled her leg away and lowered his head, her pussy almost within tongue-touching distance. Bryson inhaled, letting the scent of her sit on his senses, tempting his mouth, his tongue, his mind—yes, his cock and fingers, too. Every part of her tempted him.
Desire to be with her, to be inside her, to be a part of her was pulling at him with a force that defied all others. He slipped a hand beneath her, his thumb slipping into her wet sheath while his fingers came damningly close to the rosebud of her ass. She moved and squirmed—possibly struggling, but definitely not against him. The movement served to have her pushing his digit in even deeper, while he pressed downward with this thumb, applying pressure to a part of her that he was sure was far too sensitive and without a doubt untouched.
He lowered his head closer, letting her feel the warmth of his breath before he blew a gentle cooling breath on her heated flesh.
He wanted to hurry this, to bury his face between her legs, to allow his tongue to replace his thumb. He stared at the red-and-pink lips beckoning him with a glinting wetness. The desire to replace his thumb grew.
He pulled his thumb out, studying her face as disappointment replaced glorious lust, then he ran his finger upward toward a clit swollen with desire. He stroked it softly, watching her eyes dilate with yearning, her hips arch upward, a moan slipping out from her lips. His cock throbbed. God, did it ever.
His breath still hot on her sleek pussy, he teased the little nub, while his cock pulsed fiercely.
Her chest heaved with every breath, matching his rhythm. Taut nipples pushed skyward, growing tighter and tighter. Her body was a feast. Lush and made for passion—with him. Only him.
He raised one hand to the creamy mound and stroked the nearest nipple while making tight circles on her clit with his thumb.
“Fuck, I want to eat this pussy,” he muttered, delivering rapid flicks on her clit while her hips rose and writhed.