You're Kitten Me

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You're Kitten Me Page 11

by Celia Kyle


  His touch drew nearer to her center, his fingers tracing small circles on her heated flesh, and she whimpered when he stopped short of touching her pussy.

  “Braden,” she whined.

  “Right here,” he purred, and she wondered what it’d be like to have him purr against her pussy. “Not going anywhere.”

  “You’re not doing anything either,” she whined. Again. And she didn’t give a damn if she sounded like a little kid. She wanted him to touch her pussy dammit.

  “I’m definitely doing something.” Golden eyes focused on her. “I’m learning my mate’s body.” He ran a single thumb along her slit, and her breath caught. “Like the fact a soft touch makes you gasp.”

  “Braden,” she gasped as he delved between her labia and stroked her soaked sex.

  “Right here. Touching you. Learning you.”

  “You could learn inside me,” she cajoled. She wanted him thrusting in and out of her pussy. Now.

  He brought his thumb up to her clit and circled the small bundle of nerves. “You don’t want my mouth here? Touching you? Tasting you? Making you scream my name?”

  As tempting as it sounded, she didn’t want that. Yet. “In me. Please. You can do all that in round two.”

  He chuckled and leaned back, withdrawing his hand. He grasped the base of his dick and stroked himself, revealing he was already hard for her once again. “Is this what you want?”

  Ronnie nodded. “Yes.” She raised her gaze to him. “Now.”

  “Pushy wolf.”

  “Anxious wolf.” She grinned at him and pushed to her elbows. “Slow tiger. Getting old already? Not up to the challenge of—”

  Braden pounced, pushing her back to the ground as he covered her. “You want me? This? Us?”

  “More than anything.”

  He tilted his hips and the blunt head of his dick slid through her cream, slickening his length. It took one pass, then two, and on the third he placed the blunted tip against her opening. “Say it.”

  “What?”

  “You know.” He stared at her, willing her to answer, and she knew what he wanted.

  So she gave him what he desired. She gave him what they both desired. “Mate me. Claim me.”

  In once fierce thrust, he filled her, sliding in deep and causing her pussy to stretch around his intrusion. He consumed her with a single dive, claiming her body with his own. But it was only the first step.

  There was more to come, and she couldn’t wait.

  Braden didn’t stop until their hips met, his cock fully within her sheath, and their bodies completely joined. “Mine,” he snarled.

  “Yours,” she arched her back and sought to take more of him.

  “Shit, you’re tight. Hot. Wet.”

  “For you,” she moaned and rocked her hips. “Only for you.”

  “Forever for me.” His growl was low and long, stretching into the night.

  “Yes.” She slid her hands along his arms, up his biceps, and across his shoulders before twining them around his neck. “Now make it real.”

  He took her words to heart, carefully retreating and slowly pushing forward once more with a gentle thrust and continued, careful movements that aroused her and drove her crazy at the same time. He slipped in and out again, his veined shaft stroking her inner walls. He touched nerve endings she hadn’t realized existed, caressing her in a way that stole her breath.

  Her wolf chuffed and whined with the growing pleasure, dancing in her mind and prancing in anticipation of their claiming. Their claiming?

  Ronnie didn’t have time to consider the words. Not when he increased his pace and added force behind each thrust. Her breasts jiggled with his strength, her body taking whatever he gave. She was his to use, his to pleasure, his to claim.

  Her fingers burned, her wolf coming out further, and her gums ached as her fangs descended. Her mouth watered with the need to taste his blood, just as she’d tasted his cock, his cum. He’d been salty and sweet and she wondered if the rest of him was the same.

  She’d find out. Soon.

  His pace gradually increased, sending her spirals of pleasure soaring higher with each collision of their hips. He rubbed against her clit, and her pussy tightened and spasmed in response. She milked his length, squeezing and releasing as the ecstasy of his penetration continued to grow.

  Her moans and groans warred with his, their bodies meeting in a rhythmic slap of skin on skin. The bliss of his lovemaking continued to grow, to stretch and fill every inch of her nude body until she thought she’d burst from the strength. But she didn’t. No, somehow she was able to take more of the impending joy, able to accept more of the pleasure he caused until she wasn’t sure if she would be able to breath any longer.

  “Veronica. Mine.” He bared his fangs and she noted the peppering of orange and black fur on his cheeks. Her wolf responded in kind, pushing gray strands through her skin. The animal wanted to match Braden step for step in his transformation, refusing to be left behind by their tiger mate.

  “Yours.” She groaned and planted her feet on the ground, using the new position to bring her hips to meet his. “You’re mine.”

  “Fuck yes, yours,” he hissed at her then, and she responded with her own rumbling growl from the wolf.

  The animals crept closer and closer to the edge of their humans’ control, stretching the leash that kept the animals contained within their skin. The wolf wanted to peer at their chosen mate, look him over and ensure he was worthy of… her howl?

  But…

  Braden growled and hissed again, a droplet of his sweat falling to paint her chest. He panted and huffed, body moving against hers as they both fought for release. They’d come, they’d claim, and then they’d revel in each other’s bodies for the rest of the night. Ronnie met each of his movements, the wolf helping her along as they rocked and writhed.

  The pleasure in her veins continued to blossom and grow. It stretched and pushed, sneaking into every inch of her body. Her nerves thrummed with her impending release, the bliss caused by Braden preparing to overflow and crash over her. Her clit twitched, her pussy clenching around him again and again.

  “Braden. Want to…”

  She wanted to come. Wanted to bite him and scream his name and more…

  “Do it. Come on my cock, baby. Lemme bite you.” Another snarl, another hiss, another ripple of fur sliding free of his pores.

  Her wolf responded in kind, pushing out even more until she worried her jaw would snap and reform to her beast’s.

  “Do it.”

  She shouldn’t have worried. Not when she had her mate deeply within her and issuing orders. She immediately responded to his words. Her body trembled, her back arched, and she screamed into the skies. His name left her lips, echoing into the night while pure ecstasy overcame her in a blinding wave of pleasure.

  She jerked and twitched, body no longer her own as the bliss consumed her from inside out.

  Consume.

  Her mouth watered. She was supposed to…

  Ronnie’s wolf snatched control, and she tightened her hold on Braden’s shoulders a split second before she pulled herself up and latched onto the juncture of his neck and shoulder with her fangs. She bit, his blood welling to the surface within a moment, and then she drank deeply. She sucked on the wound, feeling the initial mating bond settle into place. It allowed her to sense his feelings, know what went on inside his heart without hearing his thoughts. Joy suffused him along with a craving she recognized well. He wanted to bite her. Claim her. But he wanted her to release him first so he had a better angle.

  His hips still continued to pump as he fought for his own release. Ronnie slipped her fangs free of his skin and lapped up blood. The wolf was pleased with itself, overjoyed at the injury they’d caused. It would scar and no one could doubt they were well and truly mated now. He belonged to her. He was…

  On his next thrust, Braden sank his fangs into her flesh, sending a wave of pain down her spine. But on the h
eels came… bliss. Pure, unadulterated, unfamiliar, and overwhelming pleasure.

  Ecstasy so great, so mind-blowing, that Ronnie opened her mouth, prepared to shout her joy to the skies.

  But a shout wasn’t what escaped. No, her wolf leaped to the fore at that moment, at the very second she released the deep breath and her yell transformed into a howl. It echoed through the air, consuming every hint of oxygen in the clearing, and she sensed their bond tightening further. Her wolf reached for the cat’s soul, learning the intricacies of the mate. It knew the tie wasn’t complete, but it reveled in what they’d created with Braden. The sound went on and on, her oxygen never seeming to run out as she released her pleasure.

  She wasn’t sure how long it took—moments or minutes—but Braden soon followed her. He released her shoulder and roared to the heavens, announcing his final release. Their voices joined, a wolf’s howl and tiger’s roar, volume increasing and encircling them with the purity of their claiming.

  Their incomplete claiming. Her wolf accepted Braden wholly now, but as for his tiger… The animal would need to see that her beast was a match for his.

  Actually, the animal would do nothing because Braden was suddenly ripped from her, his body thrown across the clearing. He rolled once over the grass before popping to his feet in a low crouch.

  At that point, she noticed several things at once: a knife stuck out of her new mate’s shoulder, and the human who put it there stood less than five feet away.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Fire burned Braden’s shoulder, the ache spreading with every beat of his heart. It raced through his veins like a river of lava, and he hissed long and low, the sound a combination of his pain and a threat to the male who’d attacked him. The weight of the blade pulled at his flesh, and he reached behind him, tugging the knife free. He tossed it aside, ignoring the sudden flow of blood down his back. The tiger didn’t give a damn about pain—his own pain. It was too concerned with causing pain in another. Quickly.

  This stranger had interrupted his mating, destroying what would have been a tender moment between new mates. Now the memory would forever be tainted with violence.

  What was a little more?

  He crouched low, pushing past the agony consuming his nerves, stared at his attacker, and faltered.

  Braden recognized the enraged male, had studied his face as he lay near death in a bed in the pride house before being ambulanced to a nearby hospital. He was in ICU. Except he wasn’t. He was glaring at Braden after stabbing him and interrupting his mating to Veronica.

  What… How… Braden had seen him bleeding, barely breathing, in the den. Seen. Him.

  His tiger purred, ignoring Braden’s confusion. This was perfect. He’d been angry he hadn’t been allowed to kill the male for threatening and injuring Veronica. Now he had his chance at retribution.

  A shifter could defend itself from attack.

  He snarled at the male, remaining low as he sifted through his options. Or rather, decided how best he wanted to kill the attacker.

  Slowly, the cat demanded.

  Yeah, yeah, he knew. The animal wanted to play with its food first.

  “C’mon, beast. Let’s go. You killed my brothers, and now I’m gonna get you.” The man’s hands shook, trembling as they faced off. Fear rolled off him in waves, reaching out to the cat, and the animal reacted to the scent. His tiger wanted to chase the human and scare him a little more. His attacker reached behind him and withdrew another blade, this one larger than the other. It glinted in the moonlight, the sharpened edge reflecting the glow. “Let’s dance, kitty.”

  The man sounded so different than he had on the side of the road. The stutter was gone, though the terror remained. The tiger reminded him that even the brave could feel fear.

  Yeah, but there was something else…

  “Do you only fight if your women are at risk? That it? Do I need to stab her so you stop being a pussy?” The human cackled and lunged for Veronica.

  His mate scrambled backward, stark terror written across her features as she crawled out of reach. But that didn’t stop the attacker. He jumped for her once more, barely missing her leg, and she bolted around a tree.

  Braden leaped, putting his larger body between the human and his mate. One shove sent his attacker flying backward and sliding on his ass on the damp grass. He didn’t stay down for long, though. No, he jumped up and bounced on the balls of his feet, wide eyes focused entirely on him.

  But there was something odd in the stranger’s gaze. His pupils were dilated, the black taking up the color of his irises. Drugged?

  And his features… were they sharper? More angular? Was that fur…

  “That’s what I want.” The human grinned. “Let’s do this. I’m gonna kill you, and then I’ll get her.”

  His tiger shoved forward then, refusing to be denied the joy of destroying the stranger.

  Get Veronica? No.

  He flexed his hands, claws emerging in a rapid flow of broken bones and deadly claws. His nails turned black, the cat taking full possession. “Never.”

  Braden stalked his opponent, his steps slow and measured as he approached the male and they began their violent dance of death. He still pulsed with pain, his knife wound seeping blood that slid down his body to soak the grass. He kept his hands loose, the tiger waiting for its chance to break free and snap the neck of their prey. It wondered what human would taste like, and he hoped he could restrain the beast so they wouldn’t find out. He wasn’t into cannibalism.

  At all.

  Cat told him he couldn’t claim to hate something if he hadn’t ever tried it.

  Then their conversation came to a quick end, the honed blade heading toward Braden. He countered the attack, blocking the strike and returning the attempt on his life. He swiped the human’s stomach, claws dug into skin and flesh. The scent of fresh blood filled the air and his mouth watered.

  Fucking cat.

  The wound had the human scrambling away, staggering backward, but his expression told Braden he wasn’t done. He wasn’t going to give up.

  “Motherfucker,” his attacker hissed.

  The tiger decided the hiss meant his opponent wasn’t human and actually had a little feline in him, so if he ate a tiny bit of the male while he was human-shaped… would that still be cannibalism?

  Fucking cat.

  Before the human could recover, Braden went on the offensive. He lunged and swung, claw digging into the male’s thigh and only stopping when his nails hit bone. The wail was near deafening, piercing his eardrums. But he wasn’t going to stop. Not yet. He still clung to the knife, still swept his arm in a wide arc as if to slice him.

  Fuck that.

  Braden attacked again, grasping his knife hand and dug his claws into the male’s bicep. The paleness of the human’s upper arm was easily revealed and more blood flowed. When he attempted to punch Braden with his free hand, he elbowed the male in the face. A quick jab had him rearing back. Now his opponent bled from his nose as well.

  The bloody knife went tumbling to the grass and Braden shoved the human away, unwilling to get any more of the coppery fluid on his skin. Everywhere it touched burned him, the pain slightly less than the agony still encircling his shoulder and slowly wrapping around to encompass his chest.

  “No, you were supposed to die,” the human wheezed. “He said…” His attacker tripped again, falling to his ass. “He said…”

  Braden didn’t have an ounce of pity for the male as he bled onto the green grass beneath him. In fact, the cat craved more. It wanted to paint the clearing in the human’s blood, soak the dirt with the life-giving fluid until the man was dry.

  “He who?” he rumbled.

  “He…”

  “Who?” he snarled and bared his fangs, the teeth now over an inch long and sharp enough to pierce skin and rip flesh. “Who predicted my death?”

  “P-p-poison…” the human whimpered, his face growing paler by the second. “He gave me a shot and I’
m stronger. Faster. He…” He gave up and finally lost consciousness.

  The snap of bushes and crunch of leaves announced a newcomer—newcomers—and Braden searched the clearing for Veronica. He found her tucked behind a tree, her pale face and fear-filled eyes focused on him. He raced to her side, attacker forgotten, and yanked her to her feet. He wasn’t in any shape to come up against another attacker. His body was on fire. Whatever poison the human had used now consumed him from inside out. “C’mon. We have to find—”

  “What the fuck?” Ares’s voice boomed through the air, and Braden whipped his attention to the tiger alpha.

  A sense of relief filled Braden. His alpha was near. Gannon, Murphy, and Daniel came into view. They’d stand with Veronica. They’d keep her safe from whatever new threat emerged. Because Braden? He was losing the battle to stay upright. Every beat of his heart encouraged him to fall to his knees and succumb to the poison filling his system.

  “Ares?” The alpha strode toward Braden. “Keep her safe.”

  Small fingers, tiny claws digging into his skin, clutched him. “Braden?”

  He focused on his mate and black spots marred his vision. “Let him keep you safe.”

  “Braden?” She squeezed him harder, and he realized he was slowly giving her his weight.

  He’d crush her if he wasn’t careful. That thought had him tearing from her hold and staggering away. “Ares, don’t let anything happen to her.”

  His alpha caught him just as his knees gave out, and the darkness eased even closer. It knocked on the door to his tiger’s den in his mind, the poison attempting to consume his inner beast as well. If it got to both sides of him, if it managed to destroy the other part of him… He didn’t know what would happen to him then. “Ares…”

  “She’ll be safe. We’ll keep her safe. Let’s take care of you first.”

  Veronica dropped to her knees beside him. “Braden?”

  He was losing the battle against the poison. He knew it, and there was nothing he could do. He blindly reached for her, sighing in relief when she tightly held his hand. “I would have mated you.” He coughed and fought for air. “Tiger wanted you to pull his tail.”

 

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