Cat O' Nines: Cat's Claws

by Lia Connor

  As soon as the heavy, sultry night concealed him, Derek shook off his half-humanity and slipped into the more natural form of a mountain lion. He still looked slightly human, enough to freak the heck out of anyone who saw a Catkind in the wild, and he knew he made one hell of a sexy beast. He tilted back his head and roared for the fun of it.

  Benjamin, already in his own panther shape, dark pelt splashed with black rosettes, loped to Derek with a look of nearly human annoyance. He butted Derek’s flank with his hard head and growled.

  Not in front of the humans, I know, I know. Derek twisted about to nip Benjamin’s hide and took off running before his mate could catch up. He led Benjamin on a hell of a merry chase, weaving through the nearly-barren stretches away from the road, running until Benjamin’s sides heaved, covered with foam.

  Derek’s lover lowered his weary panther limbs to the ground and rolled over, exposing his belly. You are so easy, my love, Derek thought smugly. He butted his forehead to Benjamin’s stomach to show his approval, then nudged him hard.

  Benjamin, bless him, knew what to do. Scrambling back to his paws, he turned to face away from Derek and lifted his ass, tail held up straight and tall. He purred, the raspy sing-song like a siren’s call.

  Derek wasted no time. He was too horny to hold out even if he’d felt like some more playing around. He mounted up, and fastened his teeth in the thick flap of fur on the back of Benjamin’s neck. Growling out his dominance, Derek thrust his rigid, barbed cock deep in his lover’s eager ass.

  Benjamin threw his head back and roared to the skies as Derek penetrated him, his cry mixed from equal parts of pain, pain Derek knew he loved, and triumph.

  The panther shifted before the echoes of his roar had faded away, the noise transforming to a human yell from human lips. He struggled to his hands and knees and wrapped his tail tight around Derek’s still-feline midsection to pull him deeper in.

  Derek had, luckily for Benjamin, been quick enough to hastily withdraw the barbs on his penis. They added a great kick to lovemaking, but God almighty, they weren’t for the soft tissues belonging to human forms. He kneaded his massive paws carefully on Benjamin’s back before planting them foursquare on the earth to box his lover in. He loved this almost best of all, the mightiness of his cat shape fucking Benjamin in human form. Dirty and twisted and so damn good.

  Benjamin writhed beneath Derek, pushing his ass back for all Derek could give. “Is that all?” he taunted, thrashing his head to try and escape the heavy clamp of Derek’s lion jaws. “Screw me like you mean it.”

  Derek clamped his teeth as tightly as he dared around Benjamin’s throat to hold him still. Worked on his front half; didn’t work on his rear half. Benjamin braced his knees as far apart as they’d go and bucked on Derek’s cock. Slut, Derek thought, tickled. Benjamin might claim he wasn’t getting what he needed, but Derek knew those stifled curses and the taste of his mate’s sweat and understood what they meant. He was close, so very close.

  Time to push him over the edge. No way he could manage a reach-around like this, more was the pity, so Derek picked the next best option and reared back only to fall forward, thrusting his cock all the way in Benjamin’s ass and dragging the roughness of his tongue up Benjamin’s spine.

  God, Benjie sounded good when he screamed. Derek’s mate convulsed, shuddering, split open with lion cock. Derek breathed in deeply, greedy for the sharp, tangy smell of the spunk jetting from Benjamin’s cock to splatter beneath them. No way he’d get left behind. Still buried as deep as he could get, Derek bucked Benjamin’s ass with three short, brutally hard jerks. He came on the last thrust, roaring his completion.

  As he collapsed on top of Benjamin, as fucked-out as he could get, Derek melted from animal shape to human, all the better to hold Benjamin tight without damaging his lover. His cock slipped from Benjamin’s stretched asshole, drawing a low whine of protest from the man.

  Derek kissed the side of Benjamin’s throat. “And if it’s this good now,” he purred, “you wait. The three of us aren’t just going to make history. We’re going to create a whole new world, and we’ll rule as kings and queen. You, me, and our angel.”

  Benjamin made a happy noise and bared his throat for Derek to lick and nip. He rolled over sweet as you please and wound his arms around Derek’s neck, his tail around Derek’s leg, and raised his mouth for Derek to command. Their kiss was hot, tempting Derek to go again.

  “Save it for our female,” he decided, though it about killed him to pull away from Benjamin’s sinfully talented lips. “But you can lick me clean.”

  “I’ll save it if you lick me first.” Benjamin’s sleepy tones belied the teasing heat shimmering in his gaze. “Please.”

  Derek shivered. “You know I can’t say no to that.” He started to wriggle down to get a good shot at the sticky semen on Benjamin’s legs, salivating at the thought of tasting the mixed essences of man and beast.

  He’d almost reached ground zero and was reconsidering his earlier decision at least as far as allowing a blowjob when the sound of a gunshot exploded in his sensitive ears.

  Benjamin acted fast, quicker by far than Derek could have. He twisted, grasping Derek between his strong legs and flung the weight of his body over Derek as a human shield.

  Another shot blasted the air. Benjamin kept Derek flat through sheer body weight when Derek would have tried to struggle up and charge after whatever damn fool thought they could try their luck with one of the Catkind.

  “Don’t,” Benjamin warned. He raised his nose, shifting partially and effortlessly into a face with a muzzle and scented the air. “Human,” he said, the word barely understandable emerging through lips and teeth never meant for speech. “They’re going now.”

  He shifted back to human shape, or as human as they got, and dealt Derek a strict glare of warning. “You’re not chasing after whoever that was. Do you hear me?”

  “The hell you say.” Derek tried to throw Benjamin off. “You think letting someone hunt us is something they can get away with? Not in my lifetime.”

  “I’m not saying we let them get away for good. Just for now.” Benjamin pinned Derek’s shoulders. Blood trickled down his cheek, shocking Derek.

  “You’re hurt,” he said, dazed, reaching up to touch.

  “It’s nothing. The bullet must have hit some gravel nearby. A chip flew up and grazed me.” Benjamin shrugged off his injury. “I told you this would happen, and now you see I was right. You told me we’d find a human female for our mate, and you were right. So what we have to do now -- and don’t you dare argue with me -- is get Gabriella and bind her to us. Once she’s ours and we’re complete, we stake our claim on these lands and then we tear a few chunks out of the asshole who dared shoot at the Catkind. Agreed?”

  Derek breathed in deep and counted to ten. The insult stung his pride, and he’d rip apart anyone who dared hurt either of his mates. But damn it all, Benjamin was right. There’d be time for revenge later.

  “You win,” he grumbled. “Now turn over. I still owe you a tongue bath, and then we’re outta here. We’ve got work to do.”

  Chapter Four

  “This way, miss.”

  Gabriella eyed the bellhop -- did they call them bellhops anymore? She didn’t have too much experience with high-class hotels. As soon as she’d hesitantly walked up to the guest services counter -- no way they’d call it a “check-in desk” -- a sleekly professional woman with a smile like a toothpaste commercial beamed at her as if Gabriella was her new best friend and, with the single beckon of a finger, brought a lackey running.

  Cute little son-of-a-son, too, all glossy dark curls and big blue eyes, startling against his caramel skin. God, she’d have killed for peepers like his. He looked so winsome and delicate that there had been an awkward moment where she wasn’t sure he was a he. The nametag reading Tracey hadn’t been much help.

  Then he’d spoken, and Gabriella’s knees went weak. Small Tracey might be, but he’d proved to have a
deep, growly baritone that would put Barry White to shame. A voice made for music to make love by.

  Gabriella fanned herself surreptitiously. Wow. If she wasn’t already on her way to a stranger’s hotel room -- okay, make that two strangers’ room -- she’d have drawn out the trip from guest services to stone-framed elevator to the dimly lit corridor, lush with textured cream walls and ankle-deep sepia-toned carpeting that hushed every footfall to a whisper. Anything to spend a little more time with Tracey and enjoy the liquid sex of his voice…

  Idly, she wondered if he’d be interested in Lucia, or maybe Marnie. Ay, Marnie needed a good man, no two ways about that. She’d bet Tracey would be the perfect Prince Charming to sweep Marnie off her tired feet. Marnie needed someone better than the good-for-nothing who hadn’t even driven over to pick her up when Gabriella had ordered her to go home early.

  Wonder if I can hook them up?

  Okay, so he was a bellhop. Who said bellhops couldn’t be princes in disguise? It worked for Gabriella.

  Looked like Tracey didn’t need to check the delicate gilded key card he’d taken from the glittery-smile guest services operator. Some prize customer service quality led him straight to a door as discreet as all the others they’d passed, recessed slightly and elegantly carved of deep black wood, decorated with rococo iron. “Right here, miss,” he said, easing gracefully as -- okay, gracefully as a cat -- and fluidly inserting the key card in the slot.

  “Thank you.” Gabriella realized, too late, that she’d need to offer him a tip. She hadn’t exactly come prepared, thinking that rich was rich, sure, but liveried staff escorts? Come on.

  Should have known better, eh?

  Well, she had enough cash in the casual leather pocketbook she’d carried for a taxi home. She fingered the bills, counting by feel, second nature after years of tips of her own. How much? Ten, fifteen, twenty? “Thank you,” she said, finally deciding on a twenty.

  He shook his head. “Taken care of, miss.”

  Gabriella blushed and tried to act, at least, like she knew what she was doing. She stepped past Tracey and got her first look at the room where she’d agreed to meet two of the freakin’ Catkind for nothing more or less than wild, uninhibited sex.

  Yeah, her abuela was spinning in her grave right now.

  Her abuela, God rest her soul, could look the other way for a night. Gabriella hastily crossed herself at the thought and walked further inside. Her lips parted in surprise. They were serious when they advertised this rich-tourist-area hotel as the peak of luxury, were they?

  Honey-toned light spilled over the fine fabrics, dark Spanish reds and golds and blacks. Gabriella caught the full force of a fragrant wave of cool air, heavy with the scent of fine beeswax candles and something she couldn’t identify right away. Something spicy, almost a mint aroma. Everything looked handmade, from the decadent silkiness of the turned-down bed with its huge fluffy pillows in their silk cases and the finely-decorated full-length mirror.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she breathed, turning around in a circle. “What the hell were they thinking?”

  “I’m sure I couldn’t say, miss,” Tracey put in with a discreet, apologetic clearing of his throat. “Will there be anything else?”

  Gabriella was tempted to ask for a chocolate truffle just to see if he’d bring her one. Nah. “No, thank you. Wait, wait. Actually…” Ay, hell. “Do you know where my friends are? The, um, gentlemen who arranged for the room?” Arranged sounded a little classier, somehow.

  Tracey didn’t look phased in the slightest, as if this was something he saw all the time. “I’m afraid not, miss. If you do find yourself in need of assistance, the room phone --” he pointed to a discreet, gold-plated unit on a wrought-iron stand “-- connects directly with the concierge desk.”

  “Thank you.” Gabriella had no idea what to say next.

  Luckily, Tracey seemed to have it covered. He tipped the visor of his perfectly pristine uniform cap and smiled. Ooh. Gabriella would have bet money that wasn’t a company-approved smile. More of a grin calculated to dampen a woman’s pussy, promising he’d lick her clean afterwards. Sultry, seductive, self-assured… I’ll be damned. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?” Gabriella blurted. “You’re one of the Catkind.”

  Tracey didn’t so much as blink. “Meow, miss. Enjoy your stay.”

  Gabriella sank into the deep, supple softness of the room’s elegant leather armchair. “Wow,” she breathed as she tugged at the collar of her light, long-sleeved pirate’s blouse. Her favorite, the scarlet garment was all ruffles at the throat and wrist. Madre de Dios, but she was glad she’d detoured back to her tiny apartment to shower and change. If she’d come in here wearing her second-skin bar top, stinking of spilled brew and cigarette smoke, she’d have died of embarrassment.

  Catkind. Sweet mercy, were they everywhere? Why hadn’t she known? There were enough people who didn’t like their type that she’d have heard for sure from pissed-off Gatos customers snarling into their tequila.

  She could worry about the cat people in general later, though, right? Right now, Gabriella figured she could focus on the two she’d more or less, emphasis on the “more,” agreed to spend the night in that huge, decadent bed with, and not for tucking herself under the soft coverlet for sleeping.

  Her mind flashed to Benjamin, tall and supple and lean, and to Derek, smaller and tougher and wiry. She caught her breath at the image of both Catkind men bare of any clothes, standing naked before her, all gleaming pale skin and defined muscles gleaming in the soft light.

  Which one of them would reach for her first? Derek, she’d bet, not waiting or asking permission before he claimed her mouth and cupped her breast with his fur-soft hand. He’d tweak her nipple between his claws -- ooh, claws -- and rasp his rough tongue along hers. And Benjamin, Ay, she could see Benjamin so clearly, agilely going to his knees and coaxing her thighs apart. She could almost feel the tickle of his fingers and the moist heat of his breath on her pussy.

  Gabriella shivered, arousal flooding her senses. She snapped out of her daydreaming to find her pulse elevated and her cunt damp, a pulse pounding deep inside.

  Wherever they were, they’d better hurry, no?

  Speaking of which… where had the two gone? Gabriella stood, frowning, and decided to search the room for hints or clues. She took a good, leisurely sweep around, unable to resist touching and smelling the soft leather, heavy velvet drapes, and the smooth sweeps of the fabric wallpaper.

  On the tiny secretary’s desk placed discreetly in one corner, she found a heavy sheet of vellum with a few lines written in what she’d have sworn was real fountain pen ink. The pen lay beside the paper, both discreetly engraved with the hotel’s monogram. Gabriella clicked her tongue over the excess, which was not to say she wasn’t thrilled down to her toes, and picked up the note.

  We knew you’d come, angel, and we’re glad you did. We’ll show you a night like never before, a night that’ll last you for years’ worth of dreams. Angel Gabriella, if you’ll do us the favor of looking under the pillows, I think you’ll like what you see there. Go on. See what there is to see before you read any more.

  Gabriella laughed softly. “Cocky, aren’t you? What is this, a scavenger hunt?” Maybe, but it was so perfectly Derek and Benjamin as she knew them that their antics only amused her.

  Gabriella laid the note down carefully and turned to the bed. She stacked each pillow -- and there were a ridiculous number of them, each heavy with brocade and tassels -- on the mattress rather than tossing the works of bedding art on the floor like she wanted to, so impatient was she to get to the good stuff.

  When the last two pillows came away, Gabriella stepped back, fingers flying to her parted lips. “Oh, my God. I’m either going to kiss them or kill them.”

  They’d left her… a present. Several of them. A black silk widow-maker, the sort of lingerie that knocked simple teddies right out of the park. Real silk, almost as soft as the Catkind men’s downy
fur, whispering when she reverently touched the material. Besides the widow-maker, they’d offered thigh-high stockings topped with black lace, garters, a pair of stiletto heels and a delicate golden choker studded with jet beads. The choker looked a little too much like a collar for her tastes, but damned if she didn’t grow warm and wet at the thought of the jewelry decorating her throat.

  What else? No toys, no whips or chains or dildos, which oddly disappointed her. Gabriella caressed the silky widow-maker, and returned to the note she felt sure Benjamin had written. Gabriella could tell that the Catkind man had a deep sense of poetry inside him.

  We knew you’d like these. A woman like you deserves to be decorated in the best. When I think of you in burnished gold and finest silk, you take my breath away. We will worship you even more when you wear the gifts we’re offering.

  Below that, in different handwriting:

  Don’t get proud, Ella. Mind if I call you Ella? We’re not sugar daddies but we are damned perverted, no shame. Dress up for us.

  Ignore him, please. If you’re willing, please dress in the garments we’ve left for you.

  We’ll meet you as soon as you’re ready for us.

  In anticipation of tasting your sweet, creamy pussy,

  Benjamin & Derek

  “Sweet Saint Francis.” Gabriella’s pulse fluttered in her throat. While she’d read the note, a sharp, needy ache had started to burn between her legs. All she could think of, now, was dressing up in all this finery so she could see lust clouding their feline eyes before they stripped her nude again, both sets of strong male hands unwrapping the silk to worship every inch of dark skin beneath.

  Yeah, she probably should have been offended. She might have gotten irritated if it hadn’t all been part of living the fantasy. Two Catkind men. One luxurious hotel. Lingerie fit for the finest sex queen.