“Tell me. I won't be mad. I told you, I'm not looking for a mate. I meant it.”
He gripped her hand, kissing her fingertips. “I never knew my father. That's not uncommon with lynx-shifters, but I still hated it. My mother was a good woman. She worked very hard to provide well for me. She died when I turned eighteen.”
Molly sucked in a breath. “I'm so sorry.”
“I had no family then. No ties. Xander King was well known in the shifter community. He offered to take me in. Made sure I finished high school. When I went through my change, he explained things to me. Those two years after my mother died he spent training me. For what, I didn't know at the time. But he taught me how to fight, how to use weapons. He said it was to build self-esteem, but—”
“He wanted to groom you to be an enforcer?”
“Yes. I felt I owed him for all he'd done for me. I could earn money, have freedom, travel. I had no family or baggage to hold me back, and I embraced the life fully.”
“What happened?”
He sighed deeply, wiping a hand over his face then holding it there for a minute. “I fell in love with the wrong girl.”
Molly stiffened. Envy boiled through her, followed by guilt. She'd had sex with him. That's it. She had no other claim. No right to be jealous.
“Was she a domestic?”
He nodded but didn't offer up any more information.
“What happened to her?” she prompted.
“You know the story. Promised to someone else. An arranged marriage to someone she barely knew. She ran away. I was supposed to bring her back, but...”
“You fell in love instead?”
A slow, sad shake of his head as he stared down at the bed. “We shouldn't talk about this here.”
“It's okay. I want to understand what happened.”
He sighed. “I had no business getting involved with her when she was my mission. She had a sweet, gentle nature. Our backgrounds were completely different. I had never met anyone quite like her, with such an unspoiled view of the life. At the time my world had started to turn pretty hellish.”
Every muscle in her body went rigid as she waited for him to continue. Hearing him talk affectionately about some other woman stung.
“She had it in her head that the world needed to be aware that shifters existed. She wanted to arrange a public announcement. I'm sure you're familiar with the zealous way shifters regard their secrets.”
Molly nodded, no matter how much she hated the forced matings, the idea of outing her kind was unthinkable. “I agree they're archaic, but the old traditions were put in place for a reason. It would be a disaster if humans found out about us. They'd capture us, study us, torture us. People would kill us or experiment on us.” Molly couldn't go on. She shivered at the horrible possibilities.
Ivan squeezed her hand. “I couldn't talk her out of it. She was idealistic, naïve in the extreme. She believed humans would embrace shifters, and we would all live in harmony. She hadn't experienced enough of the world to comprehend how much humans fear and destroy what they don't understand.” He shook his head, a bitter smile curving his lips.
Molly held her tongue. She could say a lot of things right now. That this girl sounded beyond stupid for starters. But what would that accomplish?
Ivan swallowed hard and looked away. “I told Xander. As my mentor and father figure, I trusted him. I had to inform him. Those were the rules. I told him I would handle it, and I would have. Even if I had to lock her away and convince her.” With eyes focused downward, he mumbled what sounded like “I would have kept her safe.”
A part of her already knew, but she had to ask. “What did he do?”
With an intensity that unnerved her he turned and stared into her eyes. “You have to understand, until this point, I had never been exposed to serious violence. I did bodyguard work. I transported people. Light stuff. Xander sent me on a mission. Something stupid to distract me. When I got back, she was gone.”
“He had her killed?”
“He returned her to her family, and she mated with the man her parents had chosen for her.”
She stared at him in confusion. How could she mate with someone else if she was in love with Ivan?
“Her mate killed her.”
She sat up, stunned. “What?”
“She wouldn't give up the idea of outing the shifters. He gave into community pressure and killed her to shut her up.”
Molly had a thousand questions to ask but couldn't form a single one. Finally one came to her.
“Is that why you're so determined to protect me?”
“It's part of it I guess. I left after that. Built this lair and kept to myself. I got bits and pieces of what was going on with the shifters, but I didn't want to know anymore. I hated all of them. Then I stumbled upon your little group, and you cubs seemed so damn clueless. You reminded me of Allison all over again. I needed to help you. I want to protect you and keep you safe. I don't want to see what happened to Allison happen again. To anyone.”
Allison. She knew the woman's name now.
“But, I can't offer anything long term.”
His words struck like a punch to the gut, but she didn't know why. She didn't want anything permanent either. Did she?
She leaned down and brushed her lips over his. His reaction came swift and immediate. He pulled her on top of her. His big hand held the back of her head while his arm banded around her waist. She cupped his shoulders with her hands and kissed him hungrily. A soft rumbling came from his chest, and she smiled against his lips. She drew her head back to stare at him. He seemed pretty calm for a man who'd just laid his soul bare to her, but she sensed the turmoil bubbling behind his expressionless face.
Right then, she wanted nothing more than to make him forget the past. Forget Allison. She wanted to make him understand it hadn't been his fault. He needed to know what a good man he was. She'd known enough bad men to recognize the difference. On the first night she'd been here, he could have taken advantage of her. But he'd fed her. Slept on the couch instead of trying to worm his way into bed with her. He'd spent so much time looking for her when he barely even knew her. Expecting nothing in return. Good men did that. She pressed a kiss to his cheek “Thank you for sharing that with me.”
“I've never shared that story with anyone.”
“Thank you for trusting me.”
“You seem to trust me so much,” his voice sounded so uncertain it pierced her heart.
“I trust you with my life.”
He nodded as a heavy weight seemed to settle over him. Her stomach chose that moment to growl. His wide-eyed stare made her laugh.
“You need to eat.”
She sat up and rubbed a hand over her tummy, only noticing the emptiness now. “I guess so.” A thought popped in her head. “Can we go hunting together?”
He cocked his head to the side, studying her. “If that's what you want.”
“I haven't been in my fur in a while. I need to run or something.”
“It's not like any humans should be around to spot a lynx and cat hunting together. I don't see why not.”
“Cool!” Molly didn't wait. She shifted instantly, standing on his chest on all four paws. He picked her up, his big hands circling her body, and rubbed his cheek against her fur. The sweetness of the gesture called a purr to rumble from her throat. He kissed the top of her head and set her down on the floor. Crouching next to her, he shifted.
Onyx had told her how impressive Ivan was in his fur, but it still took her breath away. Thick, luxurious fur covered his big—compared to her—body. Even his giant paws were furry. Large pointed ears sported long tufts of black fur growing vertically from the tips. She and Ivan circled each other for a moment, then she rubbed up against his legs, twining around his paws and twitching her tail against the bearded tufts at his jowls. Next to her, he was a big cat. Her entire body easily fit underneath him.
They loped to the front door together. Ivan pressed his paw against a panel t
hat appeared in the floor, and the door slid open for them. Neat trick. Once outside, they scanned the area.
Ivan pulled in a deep breath when they stepped outside, scenting the air for anything dangerous or out of the ordinary. He placed a paw on Molly's back to hold her still while he twitched his ears in different directions. When nothing sounded out of place, he dropped his paw to the ground and nudged her with his chin. Her paws remained still as she looked up into the night sky.
What's wrong, he asked.
My mother always warned me against being outside at night. It feels forbidden and scary.
It struck Ivan as an odd thing for a cat to be afraid of. Cats were nocturnal creatures by nature after all. Shaking it off and not wanting to embarrass her, he refocused on their mission.
What are you in the mood for? he asked.
What's around? Rabbit?
He nodded once. My personal favorite.
She took off in a crouch, sniffing for a rabbit's den. He followed behind her, always keeping watch, amused by her approach to hunting.
After a while, he stopped her with a tap on her rump. Don't you use the stalk-and-ambush method?
She raised her delicate kitty shoulders in an eerily human-like shrug. He swung his head from side to side until he spotted just the right hiding place, and then jerked his head toward it.
We'll hide over there and wait for our potential meal to walk by.
They hunkered down behind an old tree stump to wait. They didn't have to wait long before his strong eyesight spotted a nice, fat wild rabbit hopping in their direction. He crouched down preparing to pounce as soon as the little bugger—
A sad little mewl came from her.
He dropped his rump to the ground and looked at Molly. What's wrong?
It's so cute. I don't want to hurt it.
Laughter he couldn't express in his furry form rumbled inside of him.
I'll fix something for you when we get back.
He followed her gaze as she looked back at the rabbit with longing. The brainless hare sat out in the open completely unaware of their presence. Something that dumb deserved to be eaten. But he just didn't have the heart to murder the little creature in front of Molly if it would upset her. What kind of clowder raised her to be so squeamish about hunting? Cats, even domestics, should be able to kill little fuzzy creatures without a second thought.
She appeared to be lost in thought as she switched her tail back and forth. Finally, she looked up at him. Pheasants?
Not around here.
Ducks?
Nope. There's lots of mice.
Eww. She shook her head, her lips curling in disgust.
He couldn't help but ask, What kind of cat is grossed out by mice?
This one.
Birds are okay though?
Yeah.
All right then.
He led her to another spot he knew well. A nice, fat flock of mourning doves gathered together pecking at the ground. Once again he crouched low, preparing to pounce on the closest one. Molly sat next to him watching with wide eyes. When the time was right, he pounced on the nearest dove, delivering a single kill bite to the back of its neck, killing it cleanly. The rest of the birds scattered away. Ivan brought his trophy to Molly, dropping it at her feet.
Dig in.
After finishing the bird, they curled up together. Ivan watched as Molly licked her paws delicately, fascinated by their differences. Yes, they were both feline, but the similarity in their furred bodies ended there. Much like their human forms, they didn't have a lot in common. She chose that moment to look up at him. His tongue darted out to lick a spot of blood off her cheek, and she rolled over. They playfully wrestled and washed each other. Ivan reminded his more feral side to be gentle with her, as she was even more delicate in her cat form.
Thunder clattered overhead, and, with only that warning, it started pouring. Molly flicked and twitched her ears.
I hate getting wet in my fur.
Ivan didn't mind the water. In fact, he enjoyed a swim in his fur every now and then, but he knew how much domestics hated water. She surprised him by shifting, landing naked on the ground.
“I'd rather get my skin wet than my fur,” she explained, sitting up and shaking herself off. Her long hair was soaked through in seconds, plastered to her body, curling around her breasts, drawing his attention to her very hard nipples. He shifted at once, settling on top of her. They tumbled together on the ground, their wet bodies slipping against one another in the rain. His mouth found hers, and she opened to him, her tongue tangling with his. The little moaning sounds she made echoed in his ears above the drumming of the rain and drove him nuts. He rolled them so her body spread out on top of his as they continued kissing and exploring each other. They were both coated in mud, but it didn't matter. Nothing besides the warmth of their bodies mattered. Despite the cold rain, they were both burning up. Ivan's cock rose up hard and demanding. Molly wriggled closer, lining herself up with him. Before he realized her intention, she impaled herself on his dick.
Sweet mercy, her snug heat enveloped him, immediately sending him to the edge. She used their clasped hands to raise and lower herself, each time slamming herself down so hard he had to grit his teeth to keep from coming. He lost himself in the feel of her silky heat against his bare skin. Warning flashed in the back of his mind. He realized their mistake and groaned.
“Molly, no condom,” he gritted out. Mentally he called himself every filthy name he could think of. But she was too close to her heat to risk it.
She half-sobbed and ground herself down on him harder, her muscles squeezing him so tight the top of his head was about to blow off.
“Fuck. Molly stop, or you're going to make me come.”
She lifted off of him, and he groaned as the cold, wet rain hit all his sensitive parts. “I need you,” she said, then took off running toward the lair.
Ivan pulled himself up off the ground and gave chase, hunting her with ease. Her pale skin glowed in the dark making it so easy to track her. Those sleek, little legs of hers carried her fast over the rough terrain, but he caught up before she reached the door. Snagging her around the waist and hauling her against him, both of them breathed hard.
“Gotcha,” he grunted.
He fumbled them inside and locked the door without letting her go. She squirmed and struggled in his grasp; her hot, wet little body sliding against his. He led her straight into the bathroom, flipping the overhead light on with his elbow and setting her down on the counter. Taking her face between his hands, he looked into her eyes. Mud and raindrops streaked her hair and soaked her hair, but he'd get her clean in a second.
The desperation in her eyes burned his chest. “Are you okay?”
She uttered a little whimpering noise and looked down. “I need you.”
“I know kitten, I'm going to take care of you. Let's get you washed up.” He crossed the room flipping the shower on and adjusting the water temperature to something tolerable for her delicate skin. He turned his head to check on her and found her watching him. A red flush peeked out between the patches of muddy skin.
“I can't,” she whispered.
Understanding dawned on him. He went to her, picked her up, and carried her to the shower, gently placing her on the bench that lined the back wall. He positioned the showerheads to run over her so she didn't catch a chill.
“Stay there. I'll be right back.”
“Okay,” she answered softly. She leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes.
He hurried from the bathroom, going straight into the bedroom and grabbing the little pink bag off the nightstand. Just in case, he fished out a handful of condoms before returning to the bathroom. He found her standing under the water, washing her skin with long, slow caresses.
He bit back a snarl as he entered the shower stall. The oddest feeling passed through him. His feral brain demanded he take what belonged to him. The need burned through him hot and savage.
But
she wasn't his. He'd made that clear to her more than once, and she hadn't argued. Just accepted his words with no protest. He had no right to be mad about it now.
Like it or not, right now she was his. His responsibility. His to care for. He reached for a bottle of shampoo and began lathering her hair. A soft moan escaped her lips, and she leaned back against him. Oh hell, he couldn't resist. He brought his hands to her breasts, teasing her nipples with his fingertips. She whimpered and ground her ass against him. Her soapy, fragrant hair slid over his chest as he worked the hard little points. She squirmed in his arms, restless and tense. His hand slipped down, sneaking between her thighs, rubbing against her slick mound. Her hips jolted forward at his touch. Even in the shower, her scent overwhelmed him, making him oblivious to anything but her. His fingers found her clit, and she jerked against him as he began massaging it in tight, measured circles until she came apart in his arms.
As soon as her body relaxed against him, he finished rinsing her and turned the shower off. He whipped a towel off the bar next to the shower, wrapping it around her. He used another towel to blot her hair and led her out of the bathroom. She paused in the hallway, a shiver working its way over her body.
“Come on, let's get you warm.”
“No, it's not...” Her cheeks reddened, and she looked down at her feet.
He closed the distance between them, tipping her chin up to look at him. “Tell me.”
“That wasn't enough. I need you,” she finished the last words with a half sob.
“Kitten, I'm far from through with you.”
Pure animal instinct guided him as he scooped her up into his arms, carrying her the rest of the way into the bedroom, dropping her on the mattress, and then flinging the towel away. Moving behind her, he rolled her to her stomach, then gripped her hips to pull her up to her knees. She braced her arms on the mattress, arching her back so her ass thrust into the air, offered to him like a present. A present he very much wanted to tear into. With a soft curse, he ripped his gaze away from the lovely sight long enough to grab a condom, rolling it on with one hand while rubbing his fingers against her slick pussy with the other. She moaned and wriggled until he placed a hand on each hip, lining himself up before sliding into her. From this angle, he enjoyed watching his dick disappear into her as he slammed his hips against her ass.
Feral Escape: Catnip & Cauldrons, Book #3 Page 6