L06 Leopard's Prey

by Christine Feehan

  Remy’s roped muscles bunched and rippled. She felt each defined muscle imprinted on her heated skin. She needed her clothes gone, the material literally hurt she was so sensitive. She was burning from the inside out, afraid she wouldn’t live through it. She was barely aware of being inside her room, with no idea and no real caring of how she got there. Remy shoved her hard against the wall and ripped at her clothing, every bit as desperate to get the material off of her as she was, his mouth on hers, demanding her compliance.

  She’d always wanted to see Remy out of control, to have him be on that edge of reason, to feel as if she could drive him that far, but she’d never once thought it would be like this—a fire raging out of control in both of them. It was as if one of them lit a match and both had accelerant poured over them, going up in raging flames the moment their lips met.

  Her heart pounded with fear. She could even taste it in her mouth. She had no idea what to do, how to act, even how to have sex. Obviously, Remy knew exactly what he was doing. How in the world was she going to keep up? Her body might be driving her, but when it came down to it, what was she going to do? Even those questions didn’t seem to stop her, or pour water on the fire. She couldn’t stop kissing him, or touching him, or even grinding her body up against his like some hussy desperate for sex.

  Remy suddenly lifted his head. His eyes glowed a strange, deep emerald green, wholly focused on her, like a predator. A great jungle cat focused on prey. The unblinking stare sent a shiver down her spine. He didn’t let up on his unbreakable hold on her.

  “You know there’s no going back for either of us.”

  Bijou tried to think clearly. There was a strange roaring in her head. Her body moved constantly, rubbing against him like a cat. Her breasts ached for his mouth. She felt empty between her legs and needed him desperately to fill her. His words meant something, but he was making a statement, not asking a question. There was a wealth of possession in the glittering of his strange eyes that sent both panic and a thrill ricocheting through her body.

  “I mean it, Bijou, it’s too late to ever go back.”

  Remy read fear and confusion in her eyes. He could barely stand the clothes on his back and knew her skin was burning just as bad. There would be no going back. At the best of times his leopard was difficult, but hers had risen and accepted his. He wanted her with every cell in his body, every breath he drew. The intensity of need threw him. It was unexpected and a little crazy when he’d always been so in control.

  His leopard would mark her for certain. Hell. He wanted to put his mark on her, his warning to all other males to stay away from her. It was a dark, primitive need he couldn’t possibly ignore. He couldn’t wholly blame his leopard for not keeping his hands to himself. If he was being strictly honest, the moment he’d kissed her—and he’d lied to himself—told himself he was kissing her to get in a tabloid and flush out her stalker—but he’d wanted to kiss her from the moment he laid eyes on her again. No, he’d needed to kiss her. Once he had, for him, there was no going back.

  She was addictive. He couldn’t stop kissing her. He never wanted to stop. The taste of her lingered in his mouth—in his mind. She’d somehow crawled down his throat to spread like a virus through his entire body, so that he was an addict. He needed to feed on that wild, elusive taste. That lavender scent mixed with her pheromones stayed with him every moment of the day and night. He’d waited, knowing her leopard was close to the surface and that it would drive her into a sexual frenzy of need. He had been ruthless enough to wait, to watch, to be close at hand so that no other had a chance to interfere or come between them.

  He couldn’t resist her mouth, that full lower, almost pouty lip that drove him insane. He kissed her again, drowning in her those long, addictive kisses he couldn’t get enough of. He’d never be satisfied with anyone else. He knew it. She was branded in his very bones, wrapped tight inside of him. He kissed her again and again, keeping her pinned to the wall, one leg wrapped tight around his thigh. He lifted his head, once more coming up for air. There were things that had to be said. Explanations. Truths that needed to be revealed, but he couldn’t think straight enough, not with her leopard so close. The emerging was soon. Another day. Maybe two. Maybe tonight.

  The idea of her coming to him like this, so in need, hardened his body into a painful ache of urgency. He knew in the morning there would be tears and regret, if her leopard didn’t emerge. Confusion. Perhaps even anger toward him, but he couldn’t stop himself to give her the explanations of being a shifter. She probably wouldn’t believe him and she was in no condition—and neither was he—to wait. Hopefully her leopard would rise and everything would turn out the way it should.

  His thumb moved back and forth across the curve of the sweet temptation of her lower lip. “You’ll be afraid, Blue. I know you will, but look to me. Not anyone else. I’ll get you through this. Just keep looking to me.”

  She stood in her lacy blue bra, her nipples hard and red from his teeth and mouth. Her breasts lifted with every ragged breath she drew in, a temptation impossible to resist. Before she could reply, he was kissing her again. There was too much confusion in her eyes. Trepidation. Fear of his roughness, and he couldn’t be gentle, as hard as he tried. His leopard drove him, and now, more than ever, with her female rising, his male was too close to the surface for tenderness to show.

  Kissing Bijou was better than any fine wine he’d ever tasted. He tried to stop, tried to find enough semblance of control to at least reassure her he wouldn’t hurt her. He managed to lift his head inches from hers, resting his forehead against hers, looking into those amazing blue leopard eyes. He brushed back her hair, looking into her eyes, trying to reassure her when he was already ripping away her innocence with his roughness.

  He was far too experienced not to recognize that she was innocent, but his leopard didn’t care, and neither did hers. His hands moved over her of their own accord, shaping all that soft exposed skin. His. She was his, now and for all time. Her skin was so soft, like satin, and he blazed a trail of fire from her mouth down her chin to her throat and back up to her mouth again because there was nothing else he could do. He had to kiss her. Had to touch her. Their choices were long gone.

  6

  BIJOU made a sound, a soft little cry that tore at Remy, inflamed him, made him all the more desperate for her. He had to get skin to skin. Blood surged hotly, pooled low and wicked, until he was one giant ache. He bent his mouth to her breast, his hand going to the other nipple as his teeth tugged and teased. He wanted her more than aroused, more than ready. He wasn’t going to give her one moment to back out or change her mind. He was too far gone.

  She writhed against him, pressing her back into the wall, a soft little cry somewhere between pain and pleasure escaping. He caught at her with hard hands, whirled her around and pushed her hard against the wall, his hands dropping to the waistband of her jeans. He stripped her clothes and shoes from her, holding her still with one hard hand against her back, unrelenting, not allowing her to move while he removed every bit of cloth that might come between them.

  His own clothes followed, while he breathed deep, trying to keep his animal instincts at bay. He kissed his way up the back of her legs, nuzzled her firm bottom and made her yelp when he bit her twice, the second time deliberately leaving his mark.

  “Remy, it’s too much,” she whispered. Her body trembled, her arms flat against the wall, her head turned to one side as she tried to look at him through her long fall of silky hair.

  His hand slipped between the wall and her flat belly, continued that slide lower as he stood, until he was cupping her hot mound while pressing himself against her back, pinning her there to the wall. She was hotter and slicker than anything he’d ever felt. His finger slid inside of her. She moaned and her body clamped down tight. Her hips bucked involuntarily. He bent his head to her shoulder, kissing her neck, nuzzling her as his finger moved in and out in a slow replica of what he wanted most.

 
Her buttocks rubbed against him as she gasped and moved, unable to be still. He sank his teeth into soft skin and she cried out, hot liquid pouring over his finger, lubricating her enough that he could sink two fingers deep.

  “What are you doing?” Her voice was muffled. Husky. Desperate.

  His tongue lapped at the marks on her shoulder and neck. “Getting you ready for me.”

  “I don’ know what I’m doin’,” she confided. “I’ve never been with a man.” She took a breath. “Teach me, Remy. I want to please you.”

  He’d known that. Deep down inside, he’d known she’d waited for him. He slowly removed his fingers and brought them close to his face. She smelled like lavender all over. Even there. He licked at his fingers. “You even taste like lavender. Your scent drives me wild.”

  Before she could respond, he whirled her around, hands hard on her skin, taking her down to the bed, sprawling her out for him like a banquet. Bijou gasped, her long lashes fluttering, but he gave her no chance to protest, his mouth coming down hard on hers, robbing her of breath. He kissed her until her body melted into his, soft and pliant, once more moving restlessly beneath him.

  With one hand he caught both of hers, and stretched her arms above her head, pinning her wrists to the mattress. Slipping one leg between her thighs, he opened her to him. Her scent was as wild and as elusive as she was. For so long, he’d always felt empty. He’d tried filling his nights with women, and when that didn’t work, he turned to his career. Nothing seemed to help, until this night. This woman. He hadn’t had her yet, but the taste and scent of her filled his every empty space until he burned for her. Knew her. Would never be complete again without her.

  Maybe he’d never been complete and that was why his leopard was always prowling and hungry, so close to the surface. He recognized her in some strange, primitive way. She belonged with him. They belonged. His fingers curled around her throat, tipping her head back to expose her throat to him. He bent his head and kissed that long, slender line. She smelled so good, and her skin was unbelievably soft.

  Her body kept moving, undulating, her hips bucking, her leopard pressing close to the surface helping to drive her need to mate. Her breath came in ragged gasps, each lifting her breasts and pushing them temptingly toward him. He kissed his way down to one taut peak and blew warm air over her nipple.

  He stared down into those wild, glowing eyes. So beautiful. Her leopard was close, driving her so that her body couldn’t stop moving beneath his, rubbing along his, until the roaring in his ears became a demand.

  He stroked his palm down her throat, along her collarbone to the swell of her breasts. The rise and fall as her ragged breath left her lungs only added to the terrible temptation. He lowered his head and drew one dark nipple into his mouth. She cried out, and thrashed beneath him. He suckled, using the edge of his teeth to tug and pull, the weight of his body keeping her pinned and open to his exploration.

  The little sounds escaping her throat drove him wild. His mouth pulled strongly at her breast while his fingers tugged and rolled her other nipple. She gasped and arched her body. He knew she was too innocent for such rough play but he couldn’t stop himself. Each time he tugged and pulled, each time he bit, her hips bucked and she thrashed deliciously.

  “Remy!” She tried to reach for him, but he stopped her, pushing her hands back against the mattress.

  “Shh, Blue, just let me have my way right now,” he cautioned. There was no turning back at this point, the scent of lavender and honey drifted up to him, calling, and he was lost.

  Bijou couldn’t take her eyes off the man she’d fantasized over nearly her entire life. No one else had ever measured up. No one else had ever made her body grow tight and needy or made her breasts ache or caused a flood of hot, welcoming liquid.

  Physically, Remy was beautiful. There was no other word for it. He was the most sensual, sexy man she’d ever encountered. She dreamt of him, erotic, hot dreams she didn’t dare remember when she was awake. He was tall and broad-shouldered with hard, defined muscles that rippled every time he moved. And when he moved, it was with such grace even that affected her, robbing her of her ability to think reasonably at times.

  His hands moved over her with such expertise, rough against her sensitive breasts and soft, inner thighs. He had the most seductive mouth and he used it, his strong white teeth nipping and tugging, occasionally biting gently or with enough pressure to make her yelp, even as his tongue eased the sting.

  She couldn’t catch her breath, her head tossing on the pillow, but she couldn’t take her eyes from him. He wrapped one arm around her hips, pinning her down, the other hand pushing her legs apart so he could wedge his broad shoulders between her thighs.

  “Stay still, Blue. I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

  His voice growled with hunger, and his eyes glowed a fierce nearly golden color. He looked as if he might devour her. Her heart went crazy, pounding in her chest and if she had one single iota of self-preservation, she would have run for her life, but she was desperate for him, for anything he would give her.

  Her body was impatient for his, undulating without inhibition on the bed, trying to entice him, to tempt him. She wanted him as out of control as she was, her fists gripping the sheets, twisting and holding to stay still as he’d commanded.

  He kissed his way down her breasts, across her flat belly. Her breath exploded from her lungs when his tongue dipped in her navel and licked and flicked there. She heard herself pant and her hips jerked, but he held her pinned with his casual strength. Again she felt the edge of his teeth as a warning, but that only inflamed her more.

  His hand stroked up and down her thigh, and her entire body shuddered in response. She swore her temperature had soared out of control and each time his hand slipped over her thigh, hot liquid seeped from her body and deep inside her muscles contracted and pulsed in need.

  He looked down at her with his strange cat’s eyes, at the moisture seeping from her body and her writhing hips. A smile of pure male satisfaction, of total possession, as if what he was looking at belonged solely to him, softened the curve of his mouth. And she supposed she did belong to him. A small sob escaped.

  “Remy, please. I’m not goin’ to live through this. You have to do something.”

  She couldn’t believe that was her, pleading. Begging. She would be utterly humiliated under any other circumstances, but her body was on fire and she couldn’t stop herself. Pulsing. Throbbing. Desperate for him to do something. Anything. Just give her some relief. Her blood roared in her ears, a thunder like no other she’d ever heard.

  He spread her thighs even wider, until his impossibly broad shoulders held her legs apart, digging into her inner thighs. Her breath caught and held in her lungs as his head slowly descended. She felt his breath first. He blew warm air over her quivering mound. Every muscle tensed. Contracted. Waited. The room was utterly silent except for the pounding of her heart.

  He looked at her again, this time without raising his head, and for a moment fear swept through her. He made a hot, snarly sound, much like the growl of an animal about to pounce on prey and devour it. She jerked, her fingers curling harder around the sheets.

  The first swipe of his tongue through the hot, slick folds of her core had her crying out. Her entire body shuddered and if he hadn’t been holding her down, she would have come up off the bed.

  He lifted his head, glaring in reprimand, his eyes piercing and furious. “Don’t.” It was a single command.

  Bijou realized Remy wasn’t in control any more than she was. Of her, yes, but not necessarily of himself. He had said there would be no stopping, no going back, and she realized why. He had gone over that cliff with her and they both were in the throes of some passionate frenzy neither could stop.

  He licked at her, his tongue much rougher than she expected. Her breath slammed out of her lungs. Her stomach muscles bunched painfully. Her breasts strained and ached. He held her down with one arm, licking at
her like a large, hungry cat, devouring an endless supply of hot cream. Her head thrashed from side to side as she felt the tight muscles of her empty sheath spasm, sending more cream to be lapped up greedily.

  Pleasure washed over her in strong, rippling waves. The sheet shredded beneath her fingernails, long rips she barely noticed. She couldn’t stand much more. Her body was on fire, burning from the inside out. She could barely catch her breath, but he wouldn’t stop. He refused to stop even when she tried pushing at his shoulders to warn him it was too much.

  Her hips bucked again and again as his wicked tongue stabbed and explored. She felt his teeth on her most sensitive spot and she exploded, came apart, her body thrusting against his fingers and mouth while she mewled at the tormenting pleasure. He gave one last lick to her shuddering, swollen body and knelt up, dragging her closer to him.

  His face could have been carved in stone. Sensuality was etched deep in every line. His eyes were hooded, piercing and watchful, but filled with such dark lust there was no resisting him. “You’re mine,” he whispered.

  He may as well have shouted the words. His voice was low, a mere thread of sound, but the words blazed through her mind and burned into her soul.

  “You belong to me.” The head of his cock pressed hard against her slick entrance. “Do you understand? You’re mine.”

  Giving up her soul seemed a small price to pay just to get him inside of her. The roaring in her head was rolling thunder now, an endless, shocking scream her own bloodstream demanded. She couldn’t help herself. She nodded. Panted. Begged him. There was no stopping that desperate female voice, pleading with him to enter her. She’d give him anything he wanted. Just tell her.

  He leaned forward, pressing the burning thick head of his cock inside of her, stretching her in spite of the slick cream she welcomed him with.