by Vonna Harper
What was she thinking? He’d already tied her up. Whether she watched or didn’t made no difference. She’d become his to do what he wanted with.
Red-blooded male said everything and yet not enough about him. Strangely, admitting that was somewhat liberating. She no longer had to pretend he had motives other than the obvious. He hadn’t kidnapped her for ransom, she was no political prisoner, no bargaining chip. He wasn’t some crackpot who’d taken a dislike to her for reasons known only to him.
Sex. This was about sex.
A line of fire shot down her spine. It settled in her crotch to weaken her legs and kick up her awareness of her breasts. When it suited him, he’d strip off her clothes and get down to business. He’d have to untie her legs before he could make certain obvious use of her, wouldn’t he? Maybe not. Maybe he’d stand her up and lean her over something so her ass was displayed. He’d have already pulled down her jeans and panties around her ankles, hobbling her even more than she was. Her shirt would be in shreds, fabric flapping in the wind, bra straps sliced, breasts exposed to the sun, and him.
More fire lapped at her. As it threatened to consume her, an even greater heat cupped her sex and held on.
Not turned on, damn it, not! Fantasizing about forced sex was one thing, a way of helping her get off when it was just her and her toys. The real thing—damn it—she didn’t want!
Did she?
Unable to answer, she finally thought to open her eyes. From what she could tell, he hadn’t moved, which made her wonder how long he could remain motionless and catlike.
As the word catlike expanded inside her, she opened herself to something that had happened while he was tying her up. She’d been consumed with fighting him, of course, but even as she struggled to free herself, his hands had hinted at deep and vital messages. She had something to learn from and about him, somehow. Beneath the surface waited more than a man.
That, more than her helplessness, robbed her of the ability to anticipate. She was still trying to come to grips with his feline element when he rolled her onto her side. By bending her legs, she managed to remain in position. To wait.
He was extending a hand toward her, the movement utterly graceful and confident. Wishing she could say something, anything intelligible, she lifted her head, only to let it fall. His fingers slid over her jawbone before reaching her throat. Instead of being afraid he intended to choke her, she wrapped herself in waiting and became his possession. There was nothing she could do, no reason to struggle, and no voice for screaming.
His fingers weren’t gentle, but neither did he cause her pain as he caressed her neck. It dawned on her that perhaps he was trying to erase whatever marks he’d left there, and she wished she could thank him.
The ropes had no give to them. There was no way she could alter the position he’d placed her in, only being what he wanted.
The time of existing and floating ended when he stopped stroking and started to unbutton her shirt. Maybe because she’d already made her peace with the inevitable, she simply studied what she could see of what he was doing as button after button gave way. He left her breasts covered, her bra untouched.
More of her will stripped away. More of his taking over.
Cheeks flushing and lungs demanding more air than she could provide, she offered no resistance when he sat her up. She would have tumbled over if he hadn’t straightened her legs. As it was, she had to lean over to keep her balance. Unable to watch him any longer, she sagged in her bonds like a toy waiting for its owner.
She had to stop thinking that way! she chided herself as her gaze locked on her bound ankles. What had happened to her will and determination, her fight? She didn’t want this, damn it. She’d prosecute him to the ends of the earth once she was free.
If she was ever free.
The notion that she might remain within his grasp forever sent her mind to spinning again. At the same time, her forced-together legs shifted her attention to what was happening between them. Pressing her thighs together had long served to get her sexual juices going, and she’d occasionally fantasized about ropes around said thighs. This was far different from make-believe, though, deeper, cleaner somehow, more elemental.
Still kneeling, he took hold of her shirt and pulled the two halves apart. Not content with that, he tugged the fabric off her shoulders and then down her arms until the well-worn thing was against her wrist ties. Another step taken, one more step closer to her becoming his. Completely his.
The fire hit again, between her legs this time. She had no choice but to clamp them together and to feed off the flames, to give into something she’d carried in her since puberty. She wanted to be a man’s possession, this man’s possession. To have her will stripped away and hunger exploited. She needed to scream out forced climaxes, to kneel before him, and take his cock into her mouth.
Maybe most of all, she needed to be shown how to give and receive pleasure.
He wasn’t speaking, wasn’t touching her. A downward glance reinforced what she already knew. Her breasts spilled out of the top of her bra and heaved like a romance heroine’s. He watched, his eyes narrowed and catlike.
Shaken out of herself, she focused on his expression. Although he’d slipped back into motionlessness, she sensed an inner struggle. Something was happening to him that he didn’t want, and yet he did. His nostrils had flared, and his hands were clenched, his eyes nearly rolling back in their sockets.
That’s why she needed her freedom back, not so she could run away, but so she could run her hands over his taut-as-hell body. Over and over again, she’d stroke his flesh, and in the end he’d give up his secrets. She’d know who or what he really was.
An errant thought distracted her from her desire to learn all she could about her captor. Garrin didn’t expect her back for hours, but if she didn’t return by dark, he’d grow concerned. He’d first try to contact her via cell phone, and when she failed to answer, his concern would grow. He might contact Dr. Carter, and they’d debate whether she’d injured herself, whether she might have lost or broken her cell.
As for when people would start looking for her, that would probably be Garrin’s decision. The problem was, she’d lied about where she was going, which meant they’d search in the wrong place.
Mentally berating herself for her role in her predicament, she turned her attention back to her captor. He still hadn’t moved, and yet something seemed to be rippling through him. Emotion, maybe?
Having rope in her mouth was more than uncomfortable; being unable to communicate was nearly as disconcerting as her inability to move. She’d already tried to come to grips with what he could and might do, now that he held the upper hand, but studying the mysterious man brought reality back in spades. This wasn’t an idle daydream or a sexual fantasy she could bend and mold to meet whatever her imagination wanted. Sitting here with her shirt gone and her limbs useless was reality.
She started shivering. Panic nibbled at her nerve endings. What if her kidnapper was a killer?
She’d started to lean forward in preparation for curling in on herself when he stood up, only standing didn’t say the half of it. Sleek and beautiful, his body glided effortlessly from one position to another. Once again she acknowledged his feline qualities.
He stepped into her personal space, widened his stance, took hold of her elbows, and pulled her to her feet. Unable to balance herself, she started to tip over. He kept her upright by snaking an arm around her waist and offering his hip as support. She couldn’t bring herself to look up at him.
In his grip, belonging to him, surrounded by him. Swimming in sensations he was responsible for. Wanting something she shouldn’t, something dangerous. And heavy with the word sex.
Turning her a little, he switched his hold from her waist to her hips. His other hand closed over an ass cheek. He loomed toward her, his breath damp and warm on the side of her neck as she tried to lean away from him.
His hands weren’t cruel, just there. And she
didn’t fear his breath so much as its ability to unnerve her. This wasn’t suppose to happen. In a civilized world, liberated women didn’t turn their bodies over to strangers.
Liberated? Not anymore.
Hell, she didn’t even have water anymore.
Feeling his muscles tense, she tried to anticipate but couldn’t, because his body was speaking to her, saying things she needed to hear.
Then he pushed her away, reached behind her, and unsnapped her bra. A blur of movement and her bra was up and off her breasts. Lightning sizzled in and between them, then rolled through her belly before heading lower. The lightning, strong as ever, lapped at her pussy. Out of control? She was just beginning to comprehend the concept.
Her knees buckling, she had no choice but to lean toward him for support. He caught her as he had before. That done, he held her tight against him, his cock grinding into her belly. Her pelvis dipped toward him, and his grip tightened, pulling her even closer.
She couldn’t feel her feet, couldn’t think about them. Her thigh muscles clenched and started to tremble. And her cunt, her damnable cunt, screamed to be let free. Fairly dripping sweat, she stood like the hot animal he’d turned her into while his mouth came closer and closer to her throat. At the last moment, somewhere between self-determination and contact, she lost courage. Although she leaned as far to the side as she could, it wasn’t enough.
Too-short moments later, his teeth raked her neck. She shivered and moaned behind her rope gag. Although her knees were useless, she struggled to put distance between them. Even when his hold tightened and his teeth closed lightly over a tendon, she whimpered and fought. As for whether she was trying to escape him or herself, she couldn’t say.
A sound she’d never heard penetrated the swirling confusion in her brain. At first she thought she was responsible, then there was no doubt the growls came from him. The sound had a hard rhythm, all base and drum, putting her in mind of rolling thunder. He was demented, out of his mind. Wasn’t he?
Incapable of beginning to answer her question, she stopped struggling. Her entire body vibrated, and was hot and cold at the same time. She felt both separated from her body, and deeply linked with it. Whatever she was feeling was more than her system’s response to something beyond all comprehension. She was also tapping into him, finding her way through his layers, identifying even more layers, and digging into them.
This was familiar territory because she’d done the same with animals countless times. Granted, none of them had been as complex as what she was now encountering, but the similarities kept her going. There was something rich at his core, incredible, erotic, and yet more.
A sharp burn at the side of her neck distracted her from mind probing. Yelping into the ropes, she risked whiplash trying to break free. For long seconds she feared he wouldn’t release her, but when she yelped again, he opened his mouth and pulled back. Her freedom was less than complete because his hands were still on her and his cock pressed against her.
Fighting fear and more, she twisted and looked up at him. This close, his features were blurred, but she swore his contours had changed. His ears were now higher on his head and had become pointed. His jaw resembled a muzzle, and his neck had all but disappeared. A golden light filled his eyes.
Shock gripped her. She, who never screamed, let go with something that might have wakened the dead if she hadn’t been gagged.
“No!” he ordered, his voice more growl than command. “Not—yet.”
What was he talking about, and why, despite everything, didn’t she want him to release her? Time beat between them. With each passing moment, she came closer to a truth she wasn’t sure she had the courage for.
After standing her upright, he stepped away from her, and she briefly thought he was going to leave. Instead, he walked over to where her pistol lay and tucked it in his front pocket. Then he returned.
Another growl and he lifted her off her feet. She had just enough time to ponder what he had in mind when he threw her over his shoulder. A powerful arm looped over her waist to hold her in place. She gave brief thought to trying to kick him where it counted the most. But if she brought him to his knees, he’d drop her. With no way of cushioning her landing, she might break a bone, or worse.
His shoulder felt massive under her, broader than a man’s had a right being, and densely muscled. She sagged where he’d placed her, her head and hair trailing down his back, her chest and belly sealed to him. The arm around her waist tightened in silent reminder of his greater strength. Mostly she thought about her exposed breasts flattened against his back, and him breathing.
Then he placed his other hand over her calves, and she knew he’d won this round. She couldn’t, wouldn’t fight him, whoever or whatever he was.
7
Too close. Self-control held by a thread. Some part of her penetrated his outer shell and reached for something he didn’t understand, something vulnerable. No matter which defenses he threw out, she kept digging at them. She was worming her way into him, circumventing barriers, and going ever deeper, prodding—
He had to get into his private place before it was too late.
Her weight pressing against his shoulder, her warm breasts flattened against his flesh, her calves under his hand, and her thighs giving off a dangerous heat, he walked as quickly as he dared. With each moment a little more of the human he’d once been slipped away and Cougar gained strength. Most times he embraced the change, because when in cougar form, he didn’t question, resent, or fear the existence he’d been thrust into. He simply existed.
Now he was taking those irrevocable steps into that simple and inescapable world, but taking her with him, because she refused to let go.
It wasn’t yet noon, but the sun seemed to be trying to burn the top of his head. The longer he held onto her, the warmer her flesh became. He needed to let her down and make her walk. And yet he’d waited so long to experience sensations like this.
He’d done it, captured not just a human female so he’d no longer be alone, but this one. What he hadn’t anticipated was that she might slice through his layers and maybe expose what lay in the middle.
Did he want that? Could she handle what she discovered?
Maybe he could answer both questions if he was safely and fully in his human body, but thanks to her, he’d lost control over that part of him, and he didn’t know when he’d get it back. The possibility that he’d never return to his human self half-chilled him, but then she tried to lift herself off him, and he lost the thought.
He tightened his hold until she gave up and sagged, but soon after she tried again to straighten. It occurred to him that blood must have pooled in her head and she was looking for a more comfortable position. He could grant her that one simple thing.
Stopping, he looked around at the only world he felt at peace in. He loved Tochona’s quiet hues, with the steep cliff walls seeming to reach for the sky. He also loved the valley floors and the bushlike cottonwoods that rooted wherever there was enough moisture. Losing himself in the familiar surroundings, he set her on her feet. As she’d done earlier, she started to tip to the side. Her head hung, maybe to counter the dizziness he was certain she was feeling.
Carefully keeping his gaze off her pale, soft breasts, he positioned her on a boulder and crouched before her so he could adjust her ankle restraints. He had no intention of giving her a chance to run because if she did, Cougar might see nothing except his next meal.
Creating enough slack so that she could walk at a slow pace, he started to stand. Then the back of his hand brushed her shin bone, and he remained crouched. Repeatedly stroking her leg through her jeans quieted a little of the energy. If he kept touching her, claiming her, maybe he could contain Cougar. But if that wasn’t possible, she’d see.
Why hadn’t he considered that before jumping her?
A woman’s leg, encased in denim, her top dangling from her tethered hands, and her breasts exposed. Her long and luscious hair had fallen forw
ard to bracket her face and soften the impact dust and sweat had made on her cheeks. Closing his hands over her knees, he pressed his thumbs against their insides. As her legs parted, an unmistakable scent entered his nostrils. Cougar twitched.
“You want sex,” he said. He had to work at getting the words out.
Although she repeatedly shook her head, she didn’t take her gaze off him. Keeping her legs apart, he returned her look. No expert with a woman’s emotions, he couldn’t say what she was thinking. Her heavy lids seemed to speak of hunger, but maybe she was trying to keep secrets from him.
Determined to break through her defenses, he ran both hands up the insides of her legs. Even as he imagined tearing her jeans to shreds, he lost himself in the future. Once he’d taken her to his lair, he’d begin the process of making her his. Step by step, touch by touch, he’d bring her under his control until little remained of her except sex hunger. Keeping her sexually stimulated without risking his own sanity wouldn’t be easy.
No matter how many times he’d tried to make his plans over the endless days and nights of his existence, he’d been forced to come face-to-face with the truth. Under this pale and hairless skin he wore, he was an animal.
Cursing the beast, he returned his attention to his captive. His hands still rested against her inner thighs. Concentrating on her crotch, he pondered whether she easily climaxed or needed lengthy foreplay. He might have once known how to bring a woman to the edge of her control—he wasn’t sure—but surely that talent belonged to men who cared about the woman or women in their lives.
He only wanted a resting place for his cock.
A willing one, his human half insisted. It doesn’t matter, Cougar returned.
Abruptly changing position, he cupped a hand over her mons, his thumb reaching as far between her legs as possible. A strangled cry slammed against her gag, and she struggled to twist to away. Her unexpected rebellion served as a vital lesson. She was no simple animal in heat.