by R. E. Butler
“Did you have fun?” he asked, linking their fingers.
“Sure. They’re all so sweet. I think it must be a mountain lion trait.”
“At least for the boys.”
“What are the females like?”
They started up the stairs. “Dylan told you about the curse, right?”
She hummed in agreement.
“We didn’t know about the cause of the females’ behavior until last summer. Melody’s father had taken her away from the pride as an infant and kept her hidden. He didn’t know why the females acted like they did, but he’d apparently had a suspicion. When Melody went to King to meet her uncles after her dad died, Jilly saw her. That’s when Jilly met her mates, Wyked and Fate, and they shared blood with her while they kissed. It broke the curse, and she discovered how they’d poisoned her.
“The females, under a curse of their own of sorts, would find a way to secretly poison the little girls. In their human forms, they would extend their claws and sink them into the underside of the upper arms. The girls wouldn’t remember what happened, and slowly the poison would alter their personalities. They poisoned the girls three times before they were sixteen. By the time they were old enough to shift, they had become cold and callous.”
Cris shivered as she stepped into their bedroom, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. “I don’t understand why a goddess would do that to her own people, or how the females could hurt the little girls.”
He shut and locked the bedroom door and wrapped his arms around her. “We don’t think they understand what they’re doing, that it is just something they’re supposed to do.”
“Girls born now wouldn’t be poisoned, right? They wouldn’t turn out to be like the females?”
“Right. We believe that most, if not all, of the females are in Canada. Although they could bear cubs with human males, the females don’t like to muddy up the gene pool by mating with non-lions.”
“It would be terrible if there were little girls up there with them, being poisoned.”
He nodded. “We don’t have to worry about them, though. Our kids will be loved and protected, and if we happen to have any girls, they’ll be beautiful and sweet like their mother.”
She lifted her head and smiled at him. “You think about kids?”
“Of course. Well, that’s not entirely true. I always knew I wanted to have a family, but when I was growing up, I pictured things being like it was when I was a child. Hunter, Dylan, and I would get a house in King, and then we’d find females to contract with to bear cubs for us, and we’d raise our cubs like siblings.”
“Contract?”
“Not a real contract, but in order to get a female to bear a cub, a male has to jump through a lot of hoops. Promising certain concessions, usually money and gifts, to support her during the pregnancy.” He looked down into her lovely blue eyes. “How about you? Do you think about kids?”
“I didn’t until I met you guys. Now I do. I want to have kids who live in a world where they can make their own choices, love who they want, be what they want.” She sighed and rubbed her cheek against his chest. “I know I was lucky in some ways. I met a princess once who wasn’t allowed to leave her house without an escort. She’d basically been imprisoned in her own home – she was homeschooled, and she wasn’t allowed to have any male friends or socialize. I remember thinking how lucky I was because my dad could have done that to me. He could have caged me in the house and never let me have any freedoms.”
“Why do you think he did?”
“I don’t know. I always thought it was partly my mom’s influence that allowed me to actually have a life. But now that I’m old enough to be mated in the pride traditions, she’s pushing for me to follow in her footsteps.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” he said, stroking her back and willing away the heartache that he could practically taste.
She moved onto her toes, pressing her lips to his throat with a purr. “You smell like you’re worried.”
“I am, love,” he said, closing his eyes as her lips moved up his throat to his jaw. “I can’t be happy if you’re upset.”
She hummed softly, her hands tangling in his shirt and tugging upward. “I don’t like the scent on you.”
He chuckled. “The scent of my worry?”
Nipping his jaw, she said, “You smell sexiest when you’re happy. Or turned on.”
“I’m very happy to be with you, but I’m not happy when you get sad. Talking about your family makes you sad, and I just want to erase all those bad feelings for you. I never want you frowning or crying. It tears my cat up.”
She pulled back far enough to look at him. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
He smiled and then kissed her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. She leaned into him with a purr and tugged up his shirt again, and this time he took the hint, separating from their embrace long enough to pull it off and toss it aside.
Her eyes darkened as her fingers played down his chest, stroking his muscles and making everything inside him roar. Her fingers deftly undid his jeans and pushed on the waistband, but he wasn’t interested in being the only naked one. He snarled softly and pushed her hands away. He wanted to see every inch of her lovely skin, to take this time to explore and taste the way he hadn’t had a chance before. When there were two other guys waiting in the wings to make her scream in pleasure, sometimes things got rushed.
“Have I told you today how gorgeous you are?” he asked as he tugged her top over her head.
“You might have mentioned it,” she said with a smile. “You’re very sexy yourself.”
His cat preened at her compliment. “I’m a damn lucky cat to have such a lovely mate.”
He slid his hands up her arms to her shoulders, pulling the straps of her bra down, before reaching behind her to undo it. Tugging the center bow that held the pale pink lace cups, he removed it and dropped it to the floor. Cupping her breasts, he rubbed her nipples with his thumbs, as he lowered his head to kiss her. She moaned softly as their lips met. She gripped his shoulders and tugged on him as she stepped back toward the bed. He followed her, sliding his hands to her back and laying her down gently. Leaning over, he kissed her again, sliding his tongue against hers as his fingers moved down her stomach to her waist.
The slacks came undone swiftly, and he slid his hand inside them but over the fabric of her panties, cupping her sex with the thin barrier between them. He could feel the heat of her pussy, and knowing that she was already turned on, already hot for him, was enough to make him want to fall to his knees and worship her.
Which seemed like an excellent idea. He nipped her lower lip and straightened, watching her eyes darken as he gripped her pants, hooked his fingers into her panties, and pulled them both down her legs. Her toes curled as he tossed the garments aside, and the sight of her swollen pussy and the glistening arousal made his cat howl in happiness.
He stripped off his jeans and underwear, reining in his cat, who wanted to fuck her brains out, until they were both spent, both covered in each other’s scent.
“I love how you look right now,” she whispered.
“How?” he asked, raking in the sight of her gorgeous body laid out for him.
“Like you could eat me up.”
“I plan to,” he said. “Rollover sweetheart. I’ve got big plans.”
* * *
Cris wasted no time rolling to her stomach and rising onto her hands and knees. Chase’s voice had dropped to a low rumble, and the amber of his cat had seeped into his eyes. She loved how he looked at her – so intense, so heat-filled – that she was sure she would burn up.
Chase climbed onto the bed behind her, stroking his fingers lazily over her back and sides, teasing her with little glancing touches. He pushed apart her legs, kneeling behind her. He grasped her cheeks, spreading them with a slight push so she tilted up her hips. Ever so lightly, he lapped at her pussy, his hair tickling the back of
her thighs as he angled his head to tongue her. She had never felt as exposed as she did with Chase at her back, licking her and holding her just where he wanted her. Heat spiraled through her as he flicked his tongue over her folds, drawing her into his mouth, feasting on her as if she were the best thing he’d ever tasted. His hands held her open, kept her in place, and she lowered her upper body to the bed, giving herself over to his questing tongue.
His tongue probed her, sliding into her as he purred, making her body light up.
She groaned his name, and he growled softly, pulling her closer to his mouth. He laid his tongue on her clit and purred, and the vibrations slipped through her like a thousand tiny fingers, drawing her toward the pinnacle of pleasure. He purred louder as his tongue rolled over her clit, the vibrations growing stronger and stronger until the heat coiling inside her rose to a fever pitch. She buried her face in the comforter and screamed, clutching the fabric tightly as he played his tongue over her, drawing her pleasure on and on, until she collapsed onto the bed with a moan.
He rolled her onto her side, sliding up behind her, grasping her leg at the knee and hooking it with his arm. He spread her trembling body and sank his cock into her as his mouth latched onto her neck. He pushed his arm under her and cupped her breast, holding her close as he stroked in and out of her. Pounding into her, he released his mouth from her neck and lapped at the heat of the bruise that would show when they were done.
“Mine, Cris, fuck,” he groaned.
She reached for him with one hand, sinking her fingers into his bicep as he pumped into her pussy, pulling her leg up higher to give himself more access.
“Touch yourself,” he growled, nipping at her ear.
“Too much,” she groaned. Even as the heat that spread through her threatened to boil her alive, she knew she’d do whatever he asked.
“It’s never too much,” he whispered hoarsely, their bodies riding together as he held her in place and pumped his thick length into her. “Wanna feel you come, scream my name. Take me with you.”
Her clit was hyper-sensitive from her climax, but she wasn’t about to let him down. She would have done anything he asked. She moved her hand down her sweat-slicked stomach to her clit, giving the bud a slow stroke. His hand tightened on her leg and he purred. She knew he was watching her, and the idea bolstered her.
“Like this?” she asked, rubbing her finger lightly across the bud.
“Faster, baby,” he urged.
She turned her face to him, watching the sexy determination on his face. She relaxed into his hold and played with her clit, wanting to give him her pleasure so they could come together. Her fingers flew over her clit as she rubbed herself for him, so he could feel how much he affected her and how much she cherished him.
“Fuuuuck,” she groaned as her body locked down on him as the truth of her feelings for him tumbled from her mouth just as quickly as her pussy fisted his cock. “I love you!”
His hips pistoned into her, harder and faster. He roared as he came, nearly deafening her in his pleasure. She felt the heat of his come spilling into her, and then he released his hold on her leg and wrapped his arms around her. She opened her eyes, not even realizing she’d closed them, and he was smiling, his eyes shining brightly.
“Baby? I love you, too. I love you so fucking much. Since the moment you walked into the bar, I knew you were mine. Mine to love, mine to cherish.” He kissed her, so tenderly that it made tears sting her eyes.
“That was amazing,” she said, as her heartbeat slowed from the tap dance it had done when she came the second time.
“You’re amazing. Watching your fingers work…I almost blew my load right there.”
He eased out of her pussy and reached for the comforter, tugging it over them and once more wrapping his arms around her. She snuggled into him, her body still humming from the pleasure, her cat blissed out and purring.
“We haven’t used condoms,” he said softly, nuzzling her with a purr. “We’ve never talked about that part of our future.”
“I’m not on any birth control. It doesn’t work for lionesses.”
“What?”
“It’s part of the joy of being a lion shifter. Birth control doesn’t work on us. We don’t naturally go into heat until we’re mated.”
“So you should be going into heat?”
“I…don’t know. We’re not mated.”
He tipped her face toward his and frowned. “We most definitely are mated.”
“No, don’t be upset. I know that we’re all mates, but we’re not mated by lion standards. There’s marking and blood sharing. You bit me to claim me, and my cat recognizes that, but it’s not what my kind do.”
“If we don’t do the mating like your cat wants us to, you won’t be able to have cubs?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “When there’s an arranged mating, the male and female perform the mating ceremony that night, and the female goes into heat a few days later. We’re hardwired to wait for the ceremony, I guess.”
“Can we just do the ceremony?”
She thought back to the ceremonies she’d seen in the past. She hadn’t been able to witness them until she was older because there was a sexual tone to them, although the male and female both remained clothed. The female would submit to the male, offering her throat, which he would bite in order to swallow some of her blood. It was different than the way that her males had claimed her while they’d been making love. Then the male lion would give the female his wrist. The males would never give their neck to a female. It was too vulnerable and would make them look weak. She would cut his wrist with her fangs and swallow some of his blood, and then he would rub the wound against her marks, mixing the blood.
“Yes,” she said, “but you guys will have to bite me again.”
“What? Baby, it’s too much.”
“Not for us to claim each other in a way my cat recognizes.” She rolled to face him and snuggled into his embrace. “We don’t have to do it now, and besides, I need to tell my other mates how I feel about them, too. Then we can talk about our future and cubs. We can wait. There isn’t a rush.”
Her cat yowled as if protesting, but Cris shushed the creature, ordering her to enjoy the afterglow, which was exactly what Cris wanted to do.
* * *
Dylan was bummed he had to close on Saturday. It was fair, of course. He’d had her all to himself on Friday night while Chase and Hunter closed, and he and Cris had a great time together. Dylan and his cousins managed to work out their schedules in a way that each of them had a night alone with her, and then they shared the other nights. Even though he wouldn’t get off work until one a.m., he’d still get to wake up to her and have the whole day with her and his cousins.
Hunter wanted to take her out on a real date, all four of them together and out to dinner, maybe a movie. Dylan glanced at the clock, grumbling inwardly that it was only a few minutes after seven. In less than an hour, Chase would leave and join Hunter, and the two of them would…well, his cat didn’t much want to think about what the two of them would be up to with Cris. He was a little jealous, even though he knew that Cris loved them all.
Knowing Cris loved him had been an amazing revelation. Because he loved her, too, and had just been waiting to hear her say the sweet words. He pulled his cell from his pocket to send Cris a text, letting her know he was thinking of her, when the scent of perfume wafted by him and his cat snarled. He’d hoped that Theresa, the insistent human waitress, had taken the hint when he and Hunter had made it very clear that he was mated. He’d known she was working that night, but he’d hoped she would stay on the other side of the pass and not come into the kitchen.
“Hey, lover,” she said in what he suspected she thought sounded like a sexy voice. To him it grated, like nails on a chalkboard.
Hunter had warned him that he needed to man up if she tried to come onto him again. Dylan wasn’t a fighter. He didn’t really feel like he had a mean bone in his body, but t
he idea of betraying Cris, even in the slightest by allowing Theresa to get away with her flirty and overly sexual behavior, didn’t sit right with him. He’d never do anything to betray Cris.
“The kitchen is off limits to you,” Dylan said, taking a step back to put distance between them.
“Aw,” she said, her lips pulling into an exaggerated pout. “You’re not being very nice to me, Dylan. Your little vanilla pudding isn’t here. What’s her name? Cathy?”
He growled as she moved closer. He didn’t want her anywhere near him.
“Get out, Theresa. I have a mate, and that’s the end of the discussion. Get out or I’ll put you out.”
She rolled her eyes. “Why would you want to share a woman with two other guys when I’m right here and all yours?” She reached for him, wrapping her fingers around his wrist. She made a soft sound, a human sort of purr, and his cat roared in rage.
Her grip was tight, but she was no match for him. He twisted his wrist and pulled from her grasp, causing her nails to scrape over his flesh and draw blood as she screeched in dismay. Grasping her by the shoulder, he fisted her shirt and marched her into Perry’s office. Perry looked up in surprise as Dylan shoved Theresa into the chair across from his rusty, metal desk.
“She goes or I do,” Dylan said, releasing his hold on her shirt. “She will not keep her distance, and it’s interfering with my ability to work.”
“Well, shit. I’ll handle it, Dylan. Please don’t quit.”
Dylan snarled at Theresa once more for good measure and stalked from the office. He immediately thought of Cris, wishing he was home with her instead of dealing with a nutcase human who couldn’t take a hint. If she were so desperate for a husband or a lay or whatever she was after, why didn’t she go after one of the humans who came to the bar to drink themselves stupid? Dylan stomped back into the kitchen.