Blake's lips parted and his throat moved, but no words came out. Finally he said in a tight voice, “You're looking for the Moon Flower.”
She didn't deny it.
He grabbed her shoulders and shook her slightly. “Why are you looking for the Moon Flower?” His tone was harsh with suspicion and accusation. And it was clear she didn't like that at all.
“That's...my business!” She scowled and tried to push him away but he refused to let go.
“Jasynta! Don't fight me. Just...tell me. What do you want with that cursed flower?” Blake was breathing heavily, his fingers digging into her shoulders.
“I...I need the Moon Flower,” she stammered at last, looking away.
His gaze and tone hardened. “Why do you need the Moon Flower? It's an evil flower! Why are you going after it? What do you want with it, Jasynta?”
“No, the Moon Flower is not evil! It...it's good!”
“Good? How can you say that? Tell me the truth. Why do you need that evil flower?”
“I need its power!”
He released her abruptly, almost in disbelief and disgust.
“You want to use the power of the Moon Flower?” he repeated, shaking his head slowly.
“Y-yes. I have to. I must.”
“Jasynta, what kind of trouble are you in?” And what kind of witch are you?
She swallowed, but couldn't bring herself to look at him. “I...I just need the power for...something.”
“You need the power for something bad.”
“No! Yes, maybe...no. Just no!” Jasynta pushed both her hands through her hair. “Argh, just...just leave me alone, Blake. Leave me be!”
Blake stalked towards her, his face hard and grim. “I will not let you do this. That flower is evil! You...are not. It must be destroyed. I will not let it destroy you!” He turned away from her.
Jasynta gasped and scrambled after him. “No, no, you can't destroy the Moon Flower. You mustn't! I...”
“I should never have agreed to take you with me!”
She stopped running after him. “So you're going to leave me here? In the wild?”
He closed his eyes. “Yes.” No!
“What if...I run into some wild, dangerous animal?” she asked in a small voice, sounding scared and lost.
Blake balled his fists. Don't listen to her. She's bluffing.
Bluffing about wild animals? There are wild beasts all over the forest!
Leave her.
Protect her!
His instincts clashed and battled, and his control on his beast slipped a notch. Claws sliced out and blond, golden fur raced up his arms and back as his shoulders stretched and became even wider.
By sheer iron will, he lashed at his beast and leashed it, shackling it down mercilessly. His massive chest heaved with exertion as the fur receded from his body and his claws retracted painfully.
With a roar, he turned around and faced her. From the expression on her face and her startled cry, he knew that his eyes were still feral, the predator too close to the surface.
Jasynta started to back away, but with a growl, he prowled towards her like a hunter with its prey locked in its sights.
In one swift, silent movement, he scooped her up with one arm and threw her over his shoulder. He took her haversack from her and slung it over his other shoulder, together with his own backpack. She screamed as he started to run through the woods, rage, desperation and desire blazing through him. He could feel her breasts bouncing against his back and her little fists pounding into him as he ran, and it made him hard as hell. She squirmed deliciously against him, and her shorts rode up higher, exposing almost half of her round, quivering butt cheeks.
“Let me down! Blake! Let me down, you—you caveman!” she screeched, trying to kick him in the side.
That made him slow down a little. He growled. “Caveman?”
“Yeah. Captain Caveman—that's you. You sure have the etiquette of a caveman,” she huffed, twisting around and making her breasts drag across his shoulder. He almost groaned at the unbearable pleasure of her curves pressing against his body.
Having gotten past her initial shock, Jasynta seemed determined to let him know exactly what she thought of him and his caveman ways. “First, you steal my knickers,” she said, ticking off his offenses on her fingers. “Then you eat them. Now, you throw me over your shoulder. Next, you'll be lugging me back to your cave, I suppose. Bears like caves, right?” she sniffed.
His cave? His bear perked up. “Now that's an idea,” Blake drawled.
“You...you wouldn't dare.”
“You sure about that? The last time you said that, you lost your knickers,” he deadpanned.
“Ha! Well, this time, you won't be stealing my knickers. There's just no way you'll get your hands and your mouth on them. You know why?” She paused for dramatic effect and Blake shifted his weight uneasily. What did this maddening little witch have up her sleeves this time? Not that she was wearing any sleeves.
A bead of sweat tracked down his chest. But he clamped his arm tighter over her wriggling little body and forced himself to continue pushing through the woods. The crafty, sexy little witch could say what she liked. Nothing would throw him. He was a bear on a mission.
But nothing prepared him for her answer. “Because—” Jasynta announced triumphantly, “— I'm not wearing any!”
Blake's jaw dropped.
She was a bad girl. A very bad girl indeed.
“Jasynta.” His voice had dropped an octave, and the way he said her name made her cease all her smirking and struggling. She just stopped moving altogether. He couldn't even feel her breathe.
He rested his huge hand on her butt, and squeezed. The knowledge that only her shorts separated his hand from her bare butt made him groan. She let out a small gasp, and a sudden whiff of her arousal hit him. He staggered back but regained his footing quickly. He wouldn't let her fall.
He knelt down swiftly and shifted her forward, positioning her over his knee.
“Captain Caveman, eh?” he growled into her ear.
He could feel her trembling as his hand pushed down on her back. He kneaded her back firmly, feeling the tension gradually seep from her body and slowly made his way down to her hips and thighs.
He began to rub her rump in slow circles, patting it rhythmically before delivering a light smack on one bouncy globe. A wave of arousal assailed his senses, and he blinked to clear his vision.
“Jasynta,” he growled, and she whimpered.
He rubbed her buttocks again, smoothing over those quavering round cheeks with his palm. Without warning, he smacked down again, sharper and harder this time. She stuffed her fist into her mouth to stifle her cries. His touch was firm, his hand hard as he delivered the slaps tightly on her butt. She squirmed on his knee, and pushed her buttocks higher for him. She moaned as he kneaded her buttocks and pushed his hand between her legs. Her shorts were soaked with her juices, which were trickling down her shivering thighs. Jasynta was panting, and writhing on his knee, making small sounds of pleasure as she rubbed against his thigh.
She had been very bad. And a right spanking was what she needed.
Blake raised his hand again. His ferocious strength was largely tempered down. If he struck her with his full strength, she would likely break into fragments over his leg. She might be snide and spunky, but she was really so fragile. He gave her only what she could take, what she wanted to take. If she exhibited the slightest sign of distress or objection, he would stop instantly. He would scoop her into his arms and soothe her, comfort her, assure her.
It didn't matter how much trouble she was in or how deep over her head she was. He would be there for her.
The wind blew through the trees, rustling the leaves and grass as the sounds of spanking and soft cries of pleasure faded. The sounds of birds and small animals flitted through the forest, and shadows darted across the dimming sunlight. As the sun set rapidly and the temperature cooled, so did their tempers.
Blake leaned back against a tree. He rubbed his hand over her back quietly as she lay across his thigh, facing away from him.
Perhaps he had been too hasty, too judgmental. He had questioned her motives and her nature, and had assumed the worst. His prejudices had gotten the better of him, and he had recklessly jumped to the conclusion that she wanted the Moon Flower for nefarious purposes.
Softly, he soothed her matted hair back from her face.
“Talk to me, baby,” he murmured.
Jasynta sniffed and pushed herself up. He followed her gaze, and saw the glimmer of water in the distance.
The lake.
Blake's nostrils flared.
The sharp, contrasting scent of the Moon Flower was stronger than before. The beckoning, bewildering scent weaved through the trees and stretched across the vast lake.
He jolted up and squinted past the trees, his senses sharpening. He squinted through the gaps of the thinning forest, forcing his vision to pierce through the fog shrouding the lake.
Vaguely, he could make out the outline of the volcano on the other side of the lake. The scent raced all the way up the volcano and into it.
Jasynta was standing stiffly, staring into the distance. When he touched her waist lightly, she turned and said in a monotone, “Talk. Later.”
Blake did a double take.
That was his line. Do now, talk later. He was usually just concerned with getting to the action, getting things done, not getting emo.
Whenever his Council members asked for a lengthy presentation or wordy explanation, that was what he usually told them: Talk. Later.
Just those two words would suffice.
Action was louder than words. And he spoke authoritatively and conclusively with his actions.
But now, with this witch, he found himself on the other end of the court. He was the one now doing the asking and demanding. Talk to me, please? The strong and silent Blake Madden was actually coaxing and cajoling her to talk to him.
And how did the woman respond?
With two words. His words!
Talk. Later.
Blake gave himself a hard shake.
What was the world coming to?
It had to be that blasted Moon Flower. Its warped, depraved power was distorting and corrupting everything. His kind and vivacious Jasynta had become a power-crazy, combative, cryptic witch who wanted the Moon Flower at all cost—and who had taken to not wearing any panties!
He took a step backwards and narrowed his eyes at her.
Talk later? That meant—do now.
Just what was she planning to do now?
He watched her roll her shoulders and bounce on the balls of her feet. She was preparing to run. Blake tensed to lunge forward. He would catch her. No way would he let her run from him.
Without a backward glance, Jasynta pushed off, sprinting between the trees towards the lake. Shadows seemed to slink out of her way as she charged forward. The sun had fully set and the first slivers of moonlight was beginning to flicker through the trees. Blake gave chase furiously. He saw that her arms were tugging at her t-shirt as she ran. With a gasp, he saw her pull her top over her head and toss her shirt right over her shoulder. The witch was stripping as she ran, shedding her clothes all over the forest floor.
His bear reared up in approval, while the man responded in anger. What the hell was she doing?
By the time she burst from the forest and raced to the water's edge, she had already kicked off her shoes. Her ponytail had come undone and her tousled brown curls tumbled down her naked back. As she raced towards the lake, the glance she shot him over her bare shoulder blazed with challenge and resolve.
Blake let out a bellow as Jasynta dived into the vast lake, breaking the reflection of the rising moon on the surface of the water.
The sight of her curvy, naked body pushing into the water, with her hair loose and flowing all around her sent his temperature and lust soaring uncontrollably. Her look was scorching, burning into his core and making him rock hard instantaneously.
There was no stopping him now.
With a roar, Blake streaked to the lake, his shirt and shoes gone in an instant and plunged into the lake after her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jasynta kicked hard, swimming as fast as she could across the lake. The water was cold but it wasn't freezing. Her body was warming up rapidly with her frenzied stroking and kicking.
She heard a splash behind her, and knew that Blake had dived in after her. She turned her head to glimpse his muscular body slicing through the water. He was a powerful swimmer, and his strokes were fluid and strong. In no time, he would be upon her.
She gasped and began kicking and flailing in a wild panic. With her loud, ungainly splashing, she was making more noise than progress. She swallowed a mouthful of water and began choking and spluttering.
A hard, muscular arm curled round her waist and held her. She struggled but her back was pressed firmly against a solid, unyielding chest. She shivered as hot breath crested down her bare shoulders. Another arm snaked around her body to hold her hips.
“Jasynta.” Blake's lips were brushing against the tip of her ear. His voice was hoarse, and she shuddered at the rush of moisture between her legs that had nothing to do with the water all around her. The water was cool and clear, but the wetness she felt between her thighs was hot, thick and searing.
She tried to elbow him in the ribs but he caught her wrist. “Let me go,” she said weakly.
“You know I can never do that,” he whispered, raising her arm over her head to drape it around his neck and making her arch back against him. Her fingers rested on his nape, and she could feel the ends of his blond hair and the light stubble on his jaw as she traced his angular profile with her fingertips. When she touched the tip of his earlobe, he hissed sharply as though she had scorched him.
Blake began to move his hand up from her waist to cup her breast. He traced the swell of her breast with his fingers before moving inexorably towards the peak. The cold had made her nipples pebble, and when he grazed her nipple with his palm, she let out a cry. He held both her breasts in his hands and kneaded them softly, enjoying their fullness. The heat of his hands on her breasts made them feel even heavier, and she arched her back against him.
“Blake,” she said on a shuddering breath. Her eyes were finding it hard to remain open.
Shouldn't she be fighting him?
Trying to get away from him?
But being in his arms, having him hold her and touch her with undisguised desire felt—so good, and so right.
He held her aching nipples between his fingers and tugged gently. This time she gasped at the indescribable pleasure and all notion of fight and flight left her. She didn't want to fight him or flee from him. She wanted...more. Jasynta began panting and whimpering unabashedly.
More, she needed more.
He read her wordless demand and spun her around. His lips dropped to her neck and instinctively she tilted her head to the side to let him take more. She waited breathlessly, her eyes closed, but she never felt the scape of his teeth. Instead he kissed slowly and deliberately down her shoulder and chest. Wrapping his lips around an erect nipple, he started to lick and suck, laving her throbbing nipple with his skilful tongue. Grabbing her other breast with his hand, he thumbed her nipple hard, making her moan with pleasure.
His mouth savored both her breasts in turn, his lips and tongue kissing and tasting every inch of her bosom like they were the most wondrous treat. Blake was thorough with his attentions, and it was clear he didn't like to rush things, especially things he enjoyed. And he enjoyed her.
Jasynta shivered a little in his arms. Blake immediately held her closer to him, and rubbed his hands up and down her back to warm her. “You okay?” he asked softly.
She nodded, staring up at him. She felt more than okay. She felt—perfect. Perfect in his eyes, which were deep and blue, and glimmering with so much unexpressed, unspoken emotion.
Blake was the strong, silent type. He didn't speak much, didn't joke around as much as the other PAC members and wasn't the touchy-feely sort. But that didn't mean he was unfeeling. Far from it.
His feelings and desires ran deep and raw. She could see his hunger and his raging emotions in his eyes. Jasynta reached up to trace her fingers over his rugged, handsome features. Blake was a fine specimen indeed. Masculine, solid, powerful, alpha. In his arms, in his eyes, she felt like the most delicate and beautiful female in the world. She had never felt like this with anyone. After what happened with Camron, her self-esteem had taken a beating and it had taken many years to rebuild her shattered pride and ego. But build herself up she did. She built, she studied, she improved, she worked. She was proud of her achievements, proud of the good work she did and the many people she helped.
She had gained a reputation for being no-nonsense when it came to her work and her patients. Maybe it made her unapproachable, less friendly, less feminine.
With Blake, though, she was never more aware of her femininity. He was huge, hard, pulsing with male virility and animal prowess, yet he didn't intimidate her. When he draped her over his knee and spanked her in the forest, she didn't feel that he was hitting her in anger. Instead, she'd felt his love so strongly with every sweet, sharp smack. His force was controlled and firm. She loved how strong he was, but it wasn't because she felt weak with him. Just the opposite in fact. He seemed to ignite a spark in her, stoking her fire, her passion. He brought out a side of her that she thought she'd lost. The daring, wanton, reckless side of her.
She had decided not to wear any panties at the last minute when she'd backed into the house and rushed upstairs to change, aware that Blake was waiting for her at the front steps. The way he looked at her made her feel flirtatious, and audacious, not to mention, aroused.
Holding his gaze, she reached for his huge hand which was still tenderly caressing her back. Slowly, she put his hand between her breasts and guided it down her body. She saw his eyes darken as she pushed his hand lower down her belly.
Bear Mate: BBW Paranormal Shifter Romance Page 7