Prowl the Night

by Crystal Jordan

  He hit her again, harder this time, so there’d be no mistaking his meaning. She squirmed on his lap, and her hot scent reached his nose. “Yes. Please. Whatever you want. I want you.”

  Swatting her thigh made her jolt, and he grinned. “I want you too. And I want this.”

  He peppered slaps across her backside, increasing in speed and force until her flesh was warm and red under his hand. She moaned, undulating against his legs. The crack of his palm on her ass sounded loud in the room, and his cock became a steel rod in his pants. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold out before he had her. Pausing, he cupped one buttock in his hand, just so she could feel the sting. She hissed, her back arching like a cat in heat.

  He slipped his fingers inward, teasing the slick lips of her pussy. Her panties were soaked with moisture, and he plunged two digits into her sex, fucking her with his fingers. Her inner muscles spasmed, and he could tell she was already close to orgasm. He pulled away, not wanting her to go over that edge yet. Not yet.

  “Please, Rafe!” she cried out, wriggling to get free of his hold, but he gripped her wrists tight and spanked her harder.

  Lifting her ass to meet each stinging swat, her claws dug into his thigh. A Panther’s scream burst from her, and it called to the basest part of him, the feline that craved her as he’d never craved anything in his life. He had to have her. Now.

  Groaning, he jerked her upright. She straddled his lap, reaching between them to rip open his belt and pants. She jerked aside the inset of her panties, and then he was inside her, and she rode him while he shoved his hips upward to fuck her. Her wet sex hugged his cock, and it was so good he thought he might explode from his skin.

  His lungs heaved for breath, and sweat slipped down his skin. Sliding his hips out to the edge of the leather couch, he positioned them for a deeper angle.

  “Rafe!” She leaned backward, bracing her hands on his knees and the angle was even better, her slick sheath even tighter on his dick.

  “I love the feel of you on my cock, Teresa. All sweet and tight and wet.” He gritted the words out between clenched fangs.

  She shuddered, her face flushed, and she worked herself on his dick faster. “I like how you feel inside me.”

  Now it was his turn to shudder, pumping his cock as quickly as he could. His muscles burned from the strain, and he could see how her eyes had burned to gold. She smiled down at him, her fangs flashing. They went wild on each other, everything in perfect sync. The Panther inside him struggled for control, and his talons scrabbled across the leather sofa. He fought the urge to rear up and bite her, mark her as his. He held back, but just barely.

  His hands reached out to bracket her hips, sliding around to squeeze the punished flesh of her ass. She hissed, the cat within her shimmering just below the surface. Her pussy flexed around him, her moisture glistening on his hard flesh when she lifted off of his cock and slammed herself back down.

  Firming his grip, he pulled her tight on the base of his dick while he ground his pelvis against her clit. She threw her head back and shrieked, the gold of impending change flickering over her skin. Her channel closed around his cock, milking him until he couldn’t hold out any longer.

  Jets of come spurted from him, and still he thrust into her, wanting that contact, that friction, while he emptied himself inside of her. They shuddered together, the orgasm never ending. She swayed in place and he pulled her down to his chest. She collapsed forward, whimpering.

  “Rafe,” she whispered.

  He trailed his fingertips through her sweat-dampened hair. “Teresa.”

  That was it. Just their names. A warm, comfortable silence fell as their bodies cooled and their breathing and heart rates slowed to normal. She nuzzled her nose against his chest. “I’m getting cold.”

  “Okay.” He stood up and set her on her feet. In under a minute, he had them divested of their damp clothes. Then he lifted her off her feet and walked to the bed.

  Yawning catlike, she curled against him. “That was fun.”

  “It was, but I’m betting you’re glad that Panthers heal when they sleep, or your ass would be stinging tomorrow.”

  She chuckled. “So undignified for an heir to squirm.”

  “Except when said heir is with me. Then she can act however she wants.” He settled them both in the bed and kissed the top of her head.

  Cuddling against his side, she threw a leg over his thigh. Her hand stroked up and down his torso and he broke into a purr. He felt her lips curve in a little smile against his chest before she kissed his skin. Propping her chin on his shoulder, she met his gaze.

  “What?” He rubbed a lock of her hair between his fingers, then tucked it behind her ear.

  She shook her head, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Nothing. Just looking at you.”

  “Well, then. Look as much as you want for as long as you want.” He ran the pad of his thumb over her high cheekbone. For a moment, he let himself envision being able to look at her, touch her, any time he wanted, as often as he wanted. It was an intoxicating thought. He, who’d never spent more than a few days or weeks with a lover who happened to catch his fancy, wanted to have the same woman. Over and over again. For years. Forever.

  Just like he had her now, soft and warm and satisfied in his arms.

  He could imagine coming home to her for the rest of his life, could see himself looking at her across a dinner table, could picture them as an old married couple, with her just as bullheaded as she was now. He wanted to be there for all of that.

  The breath eased out of his lungs as he watched her drift to sleep. Yes. This was right. Having her was right. A bit of the disquiet that had plagued him for so long crumbled. He wasn’t sure where this road would end, but the journey was what mattered to him. Whatever issues they had, they could work them out. He’d found what he wanted, and he didn’t intend to let anything get in his way.

  Not even her.

  5

  Only a few days remained in the summit, and while it had been long and trying so far, exhilaration pumped through Teresa when she walked out of the conference room. She felt as if champagne fizzed in her veins, as if she were floating. It wouldn’t last, she knew. She’d had defeats along with her victories, but this confidence booster was amazing.

  She passed a window and realized that the sky was beginning to lighten, misty fog rolling over the San Francisco Bay. They’d worked all night and into the morning, debating trade policies in the various territories. Servers had brought food, which they’d eaten while continuing the deliberations.

  Even though the sun was beginning to rise, she didn’t know how she’d sleep. Like most cats, Panthers were nocturnal. Their day started around sunset, but with the different time zones that each Pride occupied, it sometimes meant being up at all hours of the day and night to take a phone call or answer an e-mail. It was a pain in the backside sometimes, but she was finding she liked what she was doing. Before she’d become heir, it had often felt as if she were . . . unneeded.

  Now, she was more than needed, she was required. It was both terrifying and invigorating. She’d expected to spend her life serving her brother, not making decisions for the Pride herself. Even her father had listened to her when she’d told him they’d set a good precedent with her confrontation with the Australian ambassador. He’d respected her opinion, and spoken to her the same way he used to talk to her brother when they’d planned their next move for the Pride. She felt as if she were living Enrique’s life and not her own, and it confused her that she liked it more than she’d enjoyed the life that was supposed to be hers.

  It was wrong to think this way, and she felt her good mood evaporate like the San Francisco fog. She shook her head, turning in the direction of the kitchens. If she went to her suite, Rafe would want to know what had upset her. There was no way to hide it from him—the man had the uncanny ability to see through any subterfuge. And there was no way she could sleep now, not with the horrible guilt that she’d
tried to ignore creeping in to poison her happiness. Because she was happy with what she was doing. It was as if she’d stolen her brother’s life away, and now he was suffering, locked alone in his own mind.

  “Good morning, Ms. Garcia.”

  “Good morning, Benita.” She smiled automatically at the wrinkled old woman—one of several chefs who worked here. In every Pride, the kitchens were always busy, always ready to feed the entire den. Even on another continent, it was a comforting place to be.

  She poured herself a cup of coffee and picked up a croissant from the buffet. “I’m going out to watch the sun rise. I’ll bring the dishes back when I’m done.”

  “Of course, of course.” Benita grinned. “My wrap is hanging by the door. Take it with you—it’s cold out there!”

  Setting her food down, Teresa obediently put on the wrap. “Thank you.”

  “Enjoy the quiet.” The old woman made a little shooing motion with her hands. “I know I do at this time of day.”

  Teresa found a small bench at the edge of the property to sit on. From here, the tall hedges that formed a maze blocked the view of the house. No one could see her, no one could hear her unless she screamed. She was alone. It was the most privacy she’d had in a long time.

  Swallowing, she let her head rest against the tall stone wall that rimmed the property. It hurt, feeling so ashamed of how she loved stepping into her brother’s shoes. He should be the one attending this summit, not she. Not the second child. Even thinking of Enrique, how she’d seen him last, hurt her. He hadn’t even recognized her, he was so out of his mind.

  “Teresa.”

  She laughed softly, and the sound emerged close to a sob. Of course he’d tracked her down. “Rafe.”

  He came to her through the fog, stepping out of the bushes. The way her heart fluttered just seeing him should have made warning bells go off in her head, but not once in the last week and a half had she been able to quash the reaction.

  The heat from his big body enveloped her when he sat beside her, and she leaned into the warm comfort he offered. His arms went around her and he pulled her sideways into his lap. “Did the negotiations go badly today? Is the Australian ambassador giving you problems?”

  “No, her Pride leader was pissed that she was drunk at the party and said tasteless things about my brother. Apparently, Antonio was also unhappy about her making comments about a member of his Pride. He called Australia about her behavior, too.”

  “Yeah, Ben mentioned that to me.”

  “That woman is never going to be a friend of mine, but she’d be a fool to start anything right now. She’s in enough trouble as it is.” Teresa sighed. “And negotiations were very successful today. I’m close to opening up freer trade between Europe and Asia.”

  Meaning their Prides would have more leeway in investing in companies in each other’s territories. The added layer of politics for Panthers made business technicalities and legalities even more complex than in the human world. She yawned and rested her head in the crook of Rafe’s neck.

  “But something’s bothering you.” He stroked his fingers through her hair, the low rumble of his voice relaxing her.

  “Yes.” It was no use denying it. He’d learned to read her remarkably well in the days they’d known each other. His persistence in being with her whenever they weren’t working was playing in his favor and they both knew it. Meals together, hours spent talking and then making love, or making love and then talking had whittled away at her resistance. Her heart was softening toward him in ways she knew she shouldn’t allow.

  “Tell me.” His voice was soft, coaxing. It invited her to intimacies that she couldn’t grant anyone.

  So, she told him as much as she could, because she couldn’t stop that traitorous, weak part of herself that insisted she was safe with him, that he would never betray her. “I like doing this.”

  “Doing what?” He massaged the back of her neck, and an involuntary purr slid from her throat.

  She waved a hand in the direction of the mansion and then down at herself. The movement made cold, damp morning air slide under her wrap, and she shivered, tucking her arm back in. “This. Being heir. It should be Enrique who’s here.”

  He was silent for a long moment. “You feel guilty.”

  Cringing at how neatly he hit the nail on the head, she turned her face into his shoulder. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “It’s not going to stop bothering you if you ignore it.”

  “Talking about it won’t make it stop bothering me either.” She swallowed. “It won’t change that I’m the heir and my brother is not.”

  His hand cupped the back of her head, urging her to look at him. “You feel guilty because you want to be Pride leader. You like the work, you like the challenge, the political bickering, the wheeling and dealing.” He shrugged. “Sure, there are days you wish this weren’t your life, but there aren’t that many of those days, are there?”

  “No,” she choked out. God, it sounded even worse when he said it aloud. Almost every day, she was glad that she was heir, glad that she would be the leader someday.

  His arms tightened around her, refusing to let her hide from the truth. “You love this and you feel guilty about it.”

  “Leave me alone.” She tried to struggle upward, but he was a Panther male and easily stilled her motions.

  “Never.” His face fell into uncharacteristically solemn lines. “Just admit it. Admit that your life is exactly how you want it.”

  “Fine.” Hissing, she shoved at his arms but couldn’t budge him. Rage whipped through her, and even though she knew it wasn’t fair, she was angry at him for making her discuss this. Tears glutted her eyes and she blinked fast to keep them from falling. She loved her brother, but she was happy with his life. “I admit it. Are you happy now? I usurped my brother’s title and I’m relishing every second of it while he wallows in madness and despair. Aren’t I a wonderful sister?”

  “You feel guilty,” he repeated, quietly, implacably.

  “Hell, yes, I feel guilty!” she burst out, swiping at the rebellious tears on her cheeks. “Wouldn’t you?”

  “In your place, perhaps.” He held her closer, cradled her to his chest. “But you didn’t usurp his title, Teresa. He went mad. Your father was forced to make you his heir.”

  “Exactly! All of this is supposed to be his. Not mine.”

  “You didn’t steal anything, Teresa. You couldn’t do that. It’s not in you.”

  “I could hurt someone if it protected a loved one. I’ve done so in the past.” And that was a truth that skated far too close to things no one should ever know.

  His eyebrows drew together and he searched her face. “I could do the same.”

  “It’s not always an admirable or understandable thing to do.” The shame of it poured through her, and it shamed her even more that part of her never wanted him to know what she had done, what she had let happen, because she’d hate to have him look at her with anything less than the respect she saw in his gaze now.

  “Is taking your brother’s title the imperfect thing you thought I wouldn’t approve of?”

  She licked her lips and tried to find an honest way to answer, without saying more than she should. “It’s part of it, and that’s all I can tell you.”

  “I hate when you don’t tell me things.” He sighed and rested his chin on the top of her head. “In general, I’m glad that you love your work. I love mine, so I want that for you, too, my mate. I’m glad to help you in any way that I can.”

  “You don’t mean that.” She turned her face away, tried to make herself turn away from the temptation he presented. It would be too easy to learn to rely on him. And that was not part of her plan.

  “Of course I do, you just don’t believe me. Yet. But you will.” He slipped his hand into her hair, tugging on it until she was forced to tilt her head back to look at him. “Talk to me about why you feel so responsible. You didn’t do anything to make this happe
n. You shouldn’t spend your life feeling terrible about enjoying your work.”

  “This wasn’t supposed to be my life.” It was that simple, and that complex.

  “But it is your life, now.” Confusion reflected in his gaze, but she could see he was trying to understand the depth of her guilt. He couldn’t because there were still so many secrets he didn’t know, things her family didn’t want people to know. He ran his thumb over her cheekbone. “Your brother isn’t going to suddenly regain his sanity, is he?”

  “No, never.” She huffed out a laugh, fighting the need to lean into his touch.

  “Then this is your life.” He shrugged. “For whatever reason, no matter how painful, this is your destiny. Being Pride leader is your destiny, not his, whether he was born first or not.”

  She swallowed, biting back the words that would give him all of the truth about her part in the sordid affair. “He was raised to do this.”

  “And you’re going to do a magnificent job at it.” He gave her a small smile, his fingertips stroking her skin.

  “He would have done better.” If Enrique had never felt the mating urge, he might still be doing it better. It was a good reminder, a harsh reminder, that the same urge now rode her.

  “Better?” Rafe arched an eyebrow. “This from the woman who’s going to break open trade with Asia? I disagree with you that your brother would be better at this, but I’ll compromise and say you’ll do as good as he would have done.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  She poked him in the chest. “You don’t even know him.”

  “But I know you.” He looked down at her prodding finger and lifted his brow higher.

  “Do you?” She narrowed her gaze at him. “After nine days?”

  “Yes. I do know you.” He glared down at her. “You can deny it all you want, but we both know that there are parts of you that no one will ever understand as well as I do. My mate.”

  “Stop it.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You said you weren’t going to push me.”