Wanting a Mate

by Celia Kyle, Mina Carter

  With one last kiss, he retreated and she met his gaze again. His golden-eyed gaze.

  “You’re a cougar,” she whispered.

  “And you’re mine. Don’t deny it.” The growl filled the air, a threat and plea in one.

  How could she deny it? She couldn’t. Plain and simple, couldn’t.

  “Yes.”

  Another growl. Another snarl. Sounds immediately—gratefully—followed by a kiss.

  A kiss? Fuck that.

  Possession. Dominion. A silent order that said she’d open for him. Now.

  And so she did. She let him part her lips with his tongue, let him slip inside, let him…

  * * *

  She tasted so. Fucking. Sweet.

  Any thoughts of just one kiss evaporated as his little mate unfurled for him like a flower greeting the sun. Or some other sappy description. Whatever. She parted her lips and let him inside where he needed to be.

  The first sample had his cat purring, ready to turn belly up for her, the second had that purr sliding up the back of his throat. She was sugar with a side of tart, like the berry pies his nan used to bake. He’d always loved those damn pies and damned if this woman didn’t taste like them, and home, and sex…everything he wanted. Everything the cat wanted.

  Still rumbling, he eased closer until he had her pinned between his body and the car. He twined his tongue around hers in a slow, wet ride of sensation and temptation. She was as soft as he’d thought, all lush curves cushioning the harder lines of his muscled body. With a growl, he slid his hand over her hip, stroked down one gorgeously plump thigh and hooked behind her knee to pull her leg up.

  They both sighed as he settled between her parted thighs, his hardness pressed close and personal against her heat. So what if they were in a parking lot. The cars around them afforded a bit of privacy and he had more than enough strength to lift her… rock against her… make it good for her…

  “NO fucking in the parking lot!” Archer’s voice intruded.

  Holt lifted his head. Sure enough, there was his ‘little’ brother, tranq gun in hand and a firm look on his face. “Hands off her and back away, Holt. Don’t make me use this.”

  Holt snarled. “Fuck off, Arch. I’m busy.”

  Archer rounded the end of the little car and got another snarl for his trouble. Too close, Holt’s cat growled. Neither of them wanted any male, even his brother, near their curvy mate until he could seal their bond.

  “No, seriously, Holt, it was in the forms. You can’t fuck on the premises. And she has to leave willingly.” Lowering the gun, he looked at the woman in Holt’s arms and smiled. The cat roared. “Hey, pretty lady. Please tell me my brother asked permission and didn’t just drag you out here?”

  Holt wanted to answer for her, to tell his irritating brother that of course she wanted to be with him, she was his mate, wasn’t she? Who else would she want to be with? Her hands smoothing over his shoulders made him look down and she smiled.

  “It’s okay, I’m happy…want to be with him. Holt?” She looked up and the sultry expression in her eyes almost did him in then and there. “Your name is Holt?”

  “Oh great!” Archer slapped his own head in frustration. “Casanova didn’t tell you his name. Holt, did you ask the lady—”

  “Chloe,” she said, a little breathlessly before Archer could finish but she was staring at Holt. It was as though his brother wasn’t there. The cat chuffed in happiness. Arch was a good-looking guy, looked less threatening than Holt, so a lot of the ladies preferred him. Her not noticing the other male stroked his ego.

  “Good. Archer, this is Chloe, my mate.” He flicked a glance at her car. Seriously, was that even a car? It looked like a kid’s toy. There was no way he was fitting in there. Growling in frustration, he turned and threw Chloe’s keys to Archer. “Get the truck, we’re leaving. We’ll come back for Chloe’s car later.”

  Ignoring his brother’s grumbles, he bent his head and rubbed his nose against hers. “Your place or mine, baby? Because one way or the other, before the night’s out, you’ll be mine.”

  “Y-yours?” Her eyes widened, darkened, and the air around them filled with the scent of her arousal. “Please?”

  Fuck yeah! His cat wanted to roar in triumph and he leaned down to claim her lips again. This time he didn’t hold back, putting everything of himself into the kiss. He was more than experienced, but in the raw, wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am type of way. He wasn’t some practiced loverboy, but she made him want to be. He wanted an arsenal of tricks to arouse her, bring her to the peak and hold her there for hours as he pleasured her. Fuck it. So what if he didn’t have them. He knew his hard body drove women wild and there were things a cat could do with his tongue that rivaled any human lover.

  “Ever been with a cat, baby?” he broke the kiss to ask, fighting the temptation to tear the skimpy dress from her. It was in his way and the cat wanted to touch skin. To lap at her cream.

  Down boy, he ordered. Fuck, if this carried on he’d have to start reciting the seven times table. Backwards.

  She shook her head, hair dancing over her shoulders. “No. Never.”

  “Good.” The word was little more than a snarl. If she had, he’d track the bastard down and kill him for touching his mate. He didn’t bother asking about human lovers. “Once you go cat, you never go back.”

  The roar of an engine announced Archer’s arrival and Holt put space between himself and his lady. Rather than letting her walk to their ride, he bent and scooped her up. A few steps and he deposited her in the backseat of the truck before sliding in next to her.

  Archer glanced over his shoulder. “No fucking in the back there, either. Comprende?”

  Holt snarled, “Just drive, and make it snappy.”

  Chapter Five

  Holt. Holt. Damn that was a sexy ass name. Anyway, the drive to Holt’s house was blessedly short and the moment the truck rolled to a stop, they were on the move. He swept her into his arms once again and then strode toward the house. She got glimpses of the structure: three car garage, massive windows, and sprawling breadth.

  Basically big. Huge. Ginormous. Which made sense since her mate—mate—was the size of a Buick.

  Suddenly they were at the front door and her mate growled, the rumbles and grumbles vibrating her body from inside out, and she couldn’t suppress the shudder of desire that assaulted. It was so. Fucking. Sexy. She heated further, body preparing for his possession. He’d take her, make her come… make her his. As much as she shied from the idea that he’d sink his teeth into her shoulder—that was how shifters mated, after all—it frightened her, but also intrigued her.

  She’d read the accountings online, women who revealed it was the most erotic, most satisfying experience of their lives.

  Chloe wanted that. She wanted to come, scream his name, and feel his fangs in her flesh…

  “Dammit,” he snarled the word. “Hold onto me, baby.” The order came a split-second before he repositioned her, encouraged her to wrap her legs around his waist and cling to his shoulders.

  Her face pressed against his neck, heated skin so close to her mouth, but she couldn’t resist the temptation he presented. She’d tasted his lips, but what about his skin. His golden, warm, smooth skin. Screw it, she’d find out. Now.

  She peppered the column of his throat with soft, sensual kisses. Tender kisses and kisses that were anything but. He was an animal at his core, his beast always a part of him. She’d also read they liked their females to nip and nibble them as much as they enjoyed doing that to their partners.

  So she did. She grabbed his skin between her teeth and bit down a brief moment before releasing him. It wasn’t hard enough to cause injury, just something to send a small ache through his blood.

  “Fuck. Baby. You can’t…” His voice was hoarse and rough.

  “I can,” she murmured right before she did it again. His natural flavors were drugging, so sweet and hot and salty and… delicious. She wanted more. She wante
d it all. “I so can.”

  “No, you—”

  His words ended with a growl as she did as promised, except this time she aimed for the juncture of his neck and shoulder. It was supposedly a hotspot for shifters. She wanted to know exactly what it’d do to Holt.

  And she found out. The second her teeth clamped down, he roared, the bellow echoing through the covered area and then slicing into the night. “Fuck!”

  Holt jostled her, his hands nudging her leg higher and then the familiar jingle of keys reached her ears.

  Yes. They needed to get inside. Preferably before she mounted him where other Meet & Mate attendants could see.

  It took no time for him to unlock the door, carry her inside, and kick the thing closed. A quick scrape of metal on metal told her he’d locked it behind them. Perfect. They were safe and sound and she was so ready to get dirty with him.

  Chloe bit him again, loving the sounds that escaped his lips with each nibble. They scorched, singeing her nerves, sending bolts of pleasure through her veins.

  “Chloe…” He probably meant that as a warning, a demand that she stop.

  Yeah, not happening.

  “Hmmm…” She repeated the motion, lapping at his skin before biting hard.

  “Dammit, Chloe,” he rasped.

  So. Fucking. Sexy. Had she mentioned that?

  “We need to—” Another nibble then a gasp escaped him. “—to talk.”

  “Uh-huh,” she mumbled and scraped his shoulders with her fingernails. His shirt blunted her action, but she did get a shiver for her efforts. Where else did shifters like to feel a little sting?

  Holt clutched her ass, large hands kneading her cheeks as he carried her through the home. She didn’t worry about where they were headed. After all, a shifter’s first priority was caring for his mate. She had no doubt he’d do whatever he could to keep her safe. Hell, he could be a serial killer for all she knew, but he wouldn’t be a danger to her or her family. And if he was… there was always therapy. She knew a few good therapists, even if they wouldn’t take her calls or appointments anymore.

  Okay, the prospect of sex with her mate was obviously clouding her judgment.

  A serial killer? She was good with mating a serial killer? Then he did this thing where his nails ripped her panties and those thick fingertips slid through her wet folds and… serial killer, what? Who mentioned anything about serial killers? Or cereal, even?

  Not her. -ish.

  “Chloe…” His fingers did that thing again with her pussy and the touching and he circled…

  “Talk,” she gasped and tightened her hold on his shoulders. “About what?”

  He carried her down a long hallway, jarring her with every stomp, forcing his digits to penetrate her with a shallow thrust. “Favorite color.”

  Her brain must have been short-circuited by pleasure. That was the only explanation for what she’d heard. “Favorite color? You want to know my favorite color? Now?”

  Holt winced, and she realized she may have shouted in his ear. And by may she… totally did.

  A crack and thud had her glancing over her shoulder and she caught sight of a bedroom door falling to the ground. Obviously Holt was in a hurry and doors wouldn’t stand in his way.

  “Yes.” The wood crumbled beneath his weight as he simply strode over the panel. “Now.”

  “Why now?”

  “Chloe…” he growled and she clenched around his fingers. Growling was so hot. Everything about him was hot. “I didn’t know your name when I shoved my fucking tongue down your throat. I wanna know more before I shove my cock in your pussy.”

  The words were raw and rough and she was very, very onboard with his cock in her pussy sans knowledge of her favorite color. Really.

  “Chloe…” This growl was deeper, throatier than the other. He was probably trying to be all kinds of threatening.

  So. Not. Working.

  Answers would not be forthcoming, though they would be coming. Ugh, arousal made her stupid.

  “I mean it, Chloe.” To prove his point, he withdrew his finger and she whined her protest. “I won’t take you, make you mine, until I know—”

  Okay, maybe he was serious.

  “Blue.” She gasped when he touched her once more.

  “What do you do for a living?” Somehow she found herself flat on her back with Holt hovering over her. His digit slid deeper, inching inside her, and then he curled his finger, rubbing that delicious spot that…

  “Oh, fuck, yes. Right there.” She arched her back.

  “Job?”

  Job, job, job… She knew she did something worth getting paid for.

  Clarity came when he abandoned her once again. “No!”

  Holt circled her clit with his wet finger, sending pleasure thrumming through her. “I’ll make you come, baby, make you see stars. But you gotta tell me first.”

  “Bastard,” she hissed, but he still brushed her clit so he couldn’t be all bad.

  “Job?”

  Single-minded asshole. “Accountant.”

  “That’s good.” He shoved his finger deep, taking over rubbing her clit with his other hand while he finger-fucked her pussy. “I own a construction company.”

  That explained the massive muscles.

  “Uh-huh.” She nodded and her attention drifted to the juncture of his thighs, to his thick cock barely hidden by his jeans. She wanted that. In her hand, in her mouth, in her pussy… Pick one.

  “How many cubs do you want?”

  Cubs? Babies? Now? “Holt,” she whimpered. “Please.”

  This time he didn’t withdraw and actually leaned toward her. Oh, his hands were still busy, but he did come nearer. Close enough to… She reached for him. Not his shoulders or arms, but his cock. His glorious, hot, long cock. The fabric still thwarted her, but she managed to stroke him and yank a hiss from his lips.

  That had him snatching his hands back.

  “Nooo,” she wailed. “Wait! Ten! Fifteen! Twenty!” Whatever would get his hands and body back where they belonged. “Whatever will get you inside me.”

  That had him chuckling. Evil bastard. “Cougars have multiple births, so you’re gonna have at least two at once. We’ll shoot for that for now.”

  He reached for her, his fingers glistening with evidence of her desire and she grasped his wrist. “So help me if you don’t finish me, I’ll finish you. Permanently.”

  Wow. Uber Bitch of Bitchville was out in full force.

  “Want me inside you?”

  Chloe whimpered and nodded.

  “Say it.”

  That was something she could easily do. “Want you.”

  “You want to be my mate.”

  She nodded. “I do.”

  Another chuckle from the jerk. “Save that for our wedding. For now, I just need to know if you’ll take my bite.” His gaze flicked to her shoulder and then back to her. “Will you?”

  Uncertainty lingered in his expression and she found she didn’t like that one bit. He was her mate, her strong as hell—stubborn as hell—mate. Before he could stop her, she scrambled to her knees and reached for him, cupping his cheeks and staring into his eyes.

  “You’re my mate and I’m yours. You know my favorite color, my job, and that I want to have your babies. I also hate long walks on the beach because sand can get in icky places and as much as you may love steak, I need a salad every once in a while. My mother is batshit crazy, my brothers are overprotective, and I’m pretty sure the house will be bugged at some point if only to ensure we have a ‘healthy relationship.’” She narrowed her eyes, trying to gauge his reaction. “If you can deal with that, mate me already. No more foreplay, no teasing, fucking do it before I go out of my fucking mind.”

  If she were still wearing panties, and if they were still dry, his grin would’ve had her wet and ready for him. Since she was bare beneath her crumpled dress and already wet…

  “You want me.”

  “Stating the obvious.” She gla
red at him. “You gonna do something about it or do I have to go get—”

  Holt pounced, forcing her to the mattress and pinning her with his hot, hard body. “You’re mine. You won’t go anywhere.”

  Chloe shivered. Not with fear, but with need. “I was going to say get a vibrator, but if you wanna take care of me… Well, you gotta get naked first.”

  He was off her like a shot. He rolled from the bed and ripped at his clothes, the fabric tearing. The tattered cloth drifted to the ground and she was transfixed as more of his tanned, muscular body was exposed.

  One, two, three, four… eight-pack abs!

  She wondered if they could stop long enough for her to taste each one. One glance at his fierce expression told her no.

  “Strip or I’ll tear the clothes off you.” A threat and promise in one and she loved it. Loved. It.

  Chloe was quick to wiggle out of her dress, anxious to save it and get naked. She yanked the clothing over her head and tossed it aside. The moment it no longer covered her vision, she met Holt’s gaze. Well, met-ish.

  Because while she was staring at his face he was staring at her. All of her. Her breasts. Her belly. Her hips. Her pussy.

  She was good with him staring at her breasts, they were banging. Okay, and a pussy was never beautiful—she didn’t care what anyone said—so she was kinda good with that. But the belly and hips needed to be off limits. Forever.

  Because, well, jiggle. ‘Nuf said. She may be confident about her body, but that didn’t me she loved it all every second of the day.

  Chloe moved her hands to her middle, anxious to cover herself, only to have Holt stop her in her tracks.

  “God. Damn. You’re beautiful. All curved and lush and fucking mine.”

  How could a girl be self-conscious when he stared at her with hungry eyes? Short answer—she couldn’t.

  So she stopped trying to hide and instead reached for him, snaring his fingers and tugging him closer. “I’m not yours yet. Maybe you should take care of that.”