Teeth gritted, body rigid, his eyes captured hers and held. Was that hope he saw there? She wanted a next time? More? Him? This? Or his own hope mirrored back? He needed to know. Had to know…
But the question died as his brain started to spin. After stroking him, up and over, then down to the base, Rosalie guided his cock to her lips. Her eyes still clinging to his, she very slowly drew him in.
Instantly, Killian started to move. Thrust. Shit, he couldn’t help himself. Her mouth was so hot, her eyes, too—and her tongue was pressing against the base of his shaft. Christ, what was that? He felt like his dick was drowning in pure pleasure.
She made sounds too. Soft growls, hisses, moans of hunger. And as she took him all the way to the back of her throat, over and over, Killian tried like hell to tamp down his need to either come or get her on her back and fuck her until they both exploded. But it was impossible. As she continued to blow the living hell out of him, drawing him in and out of her sexy mouth, she lifted her ass up in the air and was wiggling it, back and forth. Like it had a fucking tail on it.
Mind gone.
Balls tight and ready.
He. Was. So. Going. To. Have. Her.
And not alone. The thing inside him. The puma—his puma—wanted her, too.
She released him for a moment, to yank his sweats down to his knees. It was the opportunity both Killian and his cat had been waiting for. He was up and pressing her back to the ground in seconds. As he loomed over her, a snarl exited his throat. The cat was with him, inside him, wanting, needing, hungry… Was this normal? he wondered, grabbing her legs. Did the cat and the male coexist? Feed together? Fuck together?
Well, he was going to find out.
He pressed her knees to her chest, then stared down at what he’d created. A perfect feast. Rosalie gazed up at him, looking feral and excited and ready. Her eyes were wide and bright; her mouth wet and curved up into a challenging smile.
Yes, Kitten, you’ll get as good as you give.
It was the last thing Killian thought for a full minute as he dove between her legs and fed off her hot, juicy pussy. She was shaved bare and her scent... Christ, her scent. It was a drug he would never quit. A welcome addiction.
She was his. His and the puma’s.
Now he just had to make her see it too.
Her fingers were threading in his hair, fisting, then scraping his scalp as he flicked her swollen clitoris with his tongue. She liked it fast and light. Every time he changed the rhythm, her hold on him slackened, so he kept it up, just right, perfect—until her nails dug into his scalp.
That’s right, Hunter, make me bleed.
As she fucked his mouth, thrusting and grinding, he watched her. She was unbearably beautiful. She was watching him too. Her skin pink, her mouth parted, panting, her eyes at half-mast, her brow furrowed as she neared orgasm.
The puma was whispering something to him. It was the only way Killian could describe the sensation. Suck. Suck her like she sucked you…
Without question, he wrapped his lips around her clit and drew her in. Rosalie went wild. Crying out, writhing, releasing his head and grabbing her perfect breasts, pinching her nipples as he continued to suckle her. Come leaked from the tip of Killian’s dick, but he only sought her climax. And with one deep pull, she broke open. Her body tensed and as her clit swelled against his tongue, he sucked her, taking each beat, each moan of orgasm into his mind and heart and skin, and offering it to the being that had given him this.
This female’s pleasure.
Their female’s pleasure.
Rosalie barely gave her climax time to ease before she groaned the words, “Inside me. You. Inside me. Now.”
As insane and hungry as Killian felt, he couldn’t help but grin. He loved this. This female who said what she wanted, was tough and strong, but sensual and female at the same time.
He pulled away and rose over her. She was ready for him, wrapping her legs around his hips the very second he had his cock at her entrance—and pulling him down for a kiss the second he pushed inside of her.
No. Killian was no longer a man. He’d felt the switch. Last night. This morning. It all ran together. He was a male. A shifter.
Hers…
Hot desire flooded him and he could do nothing else but move. Deep, possessive thrusts as he slipped his hands beneath her ass and kissed her. Around them, the sun was streaking through the treetops, illuminating their bond.
Something stunning was happening inside Killian. The pain that had once landed and taken root within him was trying to break free. Fear and guilt couldn’t survive where there was this…him and Rosalie. There wasn’t room to house it.
Pulling his mouth from hers, he eased back so he could see her. The stunning female that was his. All that yellow hair, spread out around her gorgeous face. Lips wet and pink from his kiss. Cheeks flushed. Neck strained as another orgasm built inside her. Heavy breasts bouncing with each hard thrust.
He shook his head. “The perfect rose. I understand your name now.” He sucked air between his teeth as her hot walls tightened around his cock. “Beautiful, soft, proud and a scent so intoxicating, I want to get drunk every fucking night.”
That elicited a wide grin and a soft laugh interspersed with gasps as he gave her three punishing thrusts.
He pulled one hand from her backside and reached between them, brushed his thumb over her still-swollen clit. Instantly, she cried out.
“Like that, Kitten?”
She nodded, her breath labored. “Goddess, yes.”
As he gazed into her eyes, he brought the pad of his thumb to his mouth and licked her cream. Perfection. “This is what I like.”
Before she could say another word, or even make a sound, his thumb was back on her clit, and he was pumping inside her brutally fast. Her eyes closed and her nostrils flared. The combination was too much. Once again, she broke, flying over the edge of happiness and pleasure. Bucking wildly, squeezing against his dick.
And Killian wasn’t about to be left behind. Sweat on his brow, every muscle straining, he moved, driving into her, over and over, until…
“Oh, fuck!” he snarled, thrusting deep and holding as he released a wash of come inside her.
“Rose,” he uttered, then pulled her into his arms, rolling them to one side. Still connected, he held her both possessively and protectively. I’m never letting you go. You’re mine. Mine.
For long moments, they lay there on the cool ground, under the dappled morning sun and fragrant flora, touching and tasting, stroking and kissing. Rosalie’s leg was tossed over Killian’s hip and his hand was cupping her ass.
“What is this?” she asked, running her nails over the black barren tree with the words “There is no secret here” interwoven in branches tattooed on his shoulder.
“A reminder,” he uttered between kisses to her neck.
“Of what?” Her voice carried the delectable strains of jealousy.
He eased back, looked at her, smiled gently. “To never leave things unsaid. If you care about someone, love someone, make sure they know it.”
A soft growl rumbled in her chest. “Was it for a female?” she asked, yanking him closer with her leg. “In your past?”
His cock pulsed, started to harden inside her once again. Oh, they were going to have fun together. Painful sometimes, pleasure always. He grinned at her. “A female inspired it.”
Her eyes narrowed, and that growl became a snarl.
“Easy, Kitten,” he said, then gave her one deep kiss. “She wasn’t my female,” he whispered against her lips. “She was the wife of a Ranger I wasn’t able to save. A guy who hadn’t been able to say good-bye or I love you.”
Her entire being changed. “Oh.” And her eyes softened.
He didn’t know which Rosalie he adored more. The possessive she-cat or the soft, supple female. He leaned in and kissed her gently on the mouth. “Come on, baby. You’re the only female I—”
Killian froze. Rosalie t
oo, as the sound of movement in the undergrowth caught their ears. It wasn’t a random skunk or possum. It was predatory. It was Pantera.
Hunter.
Rosalie was the first to scramble away and leap to her feet. Naked and flushed from sex, she crouched into a fighting stance. His cock hard against his abdomen, Killian moved in front of her. But something was happening. To him. To the world around him. Eyes growing sharper, scent intensifying... No! But before he could stop it, his mind receded and he was no longer the Ranger, the man—or the male.
He was puma.
The puma who would kill anything or anyone who even looked at his female.
Chapter 11
“Just say what you have to say.” Rosalie stood near the border of the Wildlands. It was midday and warm for winter, and she was about to be kicked out on her ass. Had to be. Killian was still breathing, but shit, she’d broken every rule in the Pantera book, and now she was going to have to live with the consequences.
Raphael and Parish stood before her. The judgment police. Giving her the stink eye and a formal good-bye. After, of course, a thorough dressing down about the many ways she’d screwed up in the past couple of days.
“What if he’d taken off?” Parish demanded, his gold eyes furious. “We don’t know what he’s capable of. What if he can shift outside of the Wildlands? What if he’d gotten hurt? Or hurt a human?”
“I wouldn’t have let that happen.” Even as she said the words, she knew they were useless.
“You’re reckless,” Parish said.
“And arrogant,” Raphael finished.
“Better than angry,” she tossed back. “Or miserable or guilty or bitter.”
Neither male said a word to that. Just stared at her. Clearly, it wasn’t the reply they’d expected. For the twenty-four/seven puma female to realize—no, to admit that she’d been anything but fine over the past several months.
She took a deep breath, looked to her right at the beautiful Wildlands, her home since she knew what home was. Killian was in there, somewhere, probably back at the clinic, recovering from the tranquilizer dart Parish had shot him with. Bastard. Forget about her cat’s insane reaction, she’d nearly lost her mind when the leader of the Hunter’s had done that.
She felt their eyes on her. Waiting. Needing an explanation. Her heart squeezed painfully. “When Mercier was killed,” she started, almost as if she was speaking to herself, “I truly thought I’d never feel hopeful again. Maybe because I didn’t think I deserved to feel it. Not when he couldn’t. But now I know that kind of thinking doesn’t honor his memory at all. It defiles it.” She turned back to face the two males who held her future, at least in the Wildlands, in their hands. “I know what I did was wrong. For you, Raphael, according to the rules and the promises I made, I wouldn’t blame you…”
“Rules are there for a reason, Hunter,” Parish said tightly, though his eyes weren’t nearly as hostile as they were a moment ago. “We can’t function as a society without them.”
“I get that,” she said. “But this time, this rule breaking, it wasn’t wrong for me or for Killian. It saved us both, I think. I don’t regret it.”
“Oh, shit,” Parish ground out.
“I’m prepared to go,” Rosalie continued, her chin lifted proudly, though inside she was wilting. “Not into the regular world, of course. I couldn’t stand that for long.”
“Then where?” Raphael asked, his expression thick with concern.
“Hiss and his mate are in the Wetlands. I’m hoping I’ll be welcome there.”
The scent of him came seconds before the voice.
Killian.
He came through the brush with two Hunters, Ice and Keira, Parish’s twin sister. He was all male, not a prisoner or a tagalong. He was flanked by both Hunters, as if he was one of them. A smile came to Rosalie’s lips as pride touched her heart. He looked so right with them.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said, though his blue shark eyes were trained on Raphael.
“This is between us and Rosalie,” the leader of the Pantera told him with an edge.
The once human man, who seemed utterly and completely Pantera now, shook his head. “She’s not leaving the Wildlands, Raphael.”
“That’s not for you to say,” the male told him.
“You offered me a home here,” Killian countered, stepping forward, coming to stand beside Rosalie.
“Yes.”
“And if I wanted to take a mate, she would also be welcome here.”
“Of course, but—”
“Well, I took one.”
Rosalie’s growl broke over the border, and she turned on Killian and snarled out her demand, “Who. Did. You. Mate?”
He stared into her eyes and grinned. Wide. Rosalie bristled, and her cat backed down. Unbelievable. Not only wasn’t he afraid of her wrath, claws, puma, or fangs—he was turned on.
She could scent it.
Her lip curled.
Males.
“Answer me, Human,” she hissed, pressing up against him. Oh yeah, definitely turned on.
He licked his lower lip and a rumble sounded in his chest. “Goddamn, I love it when you call me Human,” he said. “Don’t think my cat does though.”
“Who did you mate, damn you?” she nearly cried.
The smile on his face and his eyes died. He looked at her like she was crazy. “Jesus, Hunter. It’s you, for fuck’s sake. You’re my mate.”
She must’ve gone both pale and blank because Keira and Ice started laughing. She turned on them and snarled. Which only made them laugh harder.
“Fuck the both of you,” she spat. “And you.” She turned back to address Killian. “I never gave myself to you.” She lifted her chin, trying to act all cool and haughty, when secretly, relief and happiness were pouring through her. Such a phony.
Killian cocked one eyebrow and said in a voice for all to hear. “You want me to go over the many ways you gave yourself to me? Now, I don’t give a shit if these four hear it, but you might.” He grinned wickedly, and those blue eyes flashed. “I’m going to be very detailed, Kitten.”
Her body responded instantly, erupting into flame, and she leapt at him—wrapped her arms around his neck. Her heart pounding with the wondrous rhythm of new love, she kissed him. Hungrily. Desperately. Hopefully. When she pulled back, she eyed him and growled against his wet lips, “Ask me, Killian.”
He knew exactly what she meant, what she wanted. His hold on her tightened. “Be my mate, Rosalie?”
She smiled back. “All right.”
“And my home?”
“Sure.”
“And my heart?”
“Okay.”
“And my partner in all things Pantera?” His expression downgraded to grim. “If there’s one of me, the super solider, then there are more.”
She nodded solemnly. “I’m with you. All the way. By your side.”
His eyes warmed with the kind of happiness that only came from feeling understood and cared for.
“Us too,” Keira called out. “It’s about time we went on another field trip.”
“Fuck yeah,” Ice agreed.
But Killian and Rosalie weren’t listening. Killian had pulled her even tighter to him, and was uttering against her mouth, “And you’ll help me figure out the shifting thing? How to control—”
Rosalie shut him up with a hard, hungry kiss. She was his and he was hers. And all she wanted in that moment was to revel in the beauty of forgiveness, and letting go of fear and guilt. Her hands drove into his hair, and he growled and sucked on her tongue. At some point, she ripped her mouth away from his to tell the four suddenly silent Pantera to go away—that they could kick her ass out later.
Parish grumbled of course. And Raphael said in his most authoritative tone, “We’ll have a strategy session tomorrow at noon. And I will see you both there.” But they left.
Because really, no one messes with a Pantera female in love.
Except maybe t
he male, the mate, who loves her in return.
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Rage/Killian: Bayou Heat Novellas (1001 Dark Nights Book 5) Page 13