“There’s no rail on the porch. Do you have any idea how high up we are?”
She couldn’t help it. She laughed. His expression just grew darker, and she moved closer, lifting a hand to caress the side of his face.
“I’m an eagle remember? We like heights and falling isn’t exactly a problem.”
“It’s a problem for cubs,” he muttered still glaring outside.
A vice squeezed around her heart. He was speaking of children. Their future children. In mixed were matings one parents’ DNA always reigned supreme. Would it be his or hers? That could be a problem. A cat couldn’t rule the werebirds obviously. She shook her head once.
“Impossible.”
He broke away, and her gaze followed him as he moved around. Her leopard was a pacer.
“My genes will be dominant, of course,” he said stroking the back of a leather couch. She shook her head at his confidence, biting back a laugh. Like he could just issue a command and there you go. Cub instead of eaglet. She considered arguing with him over it, but didn’t think it would be worth it. Her father had taught her to pick her battles and it would be a minimum of several months before they could know the outcome of this one. Besides, neither one of them had any control over how the genetics would work out. She was confident it would be in her favor and it would be oh so fun to watch that dominant streak bite him the ass. He looked up, and his gaze was sharp, eyes steely.
“There are more important things to deal with right now though.” He came around the couch on soft feet. Eerily quiet. She knew she was being hunted by one of the world’s most dangerous big cats, and she retreated until her back hit the stone wall. He lifted his hand, grazed her cheek with his knuckles. “You are in so much trouble, Ajax.”
The protest lodged in her throat. She wouldn’t make excuses. She should have told him everything from the beginning. She knew that. But that wasn’t why she held her tongue. It was the heat coming off his body, the erection pressed against her belly, the pure male scent of his skin.
Excitement gripped her with hard teeth. This was a man who would never let her rule him, who would give as good as he got and make her melt while he did. She loved him for it. A crazy thing to be thinking so soon after meeting him, but it felt right. Felt true. She wanted to mark him, bite him with teeth made beak hard and complete the mating he’d started.
Nico felt the change, the shift in her and knew she’d accepted him as her mate. He watched her tongue trace over little sharp teeth and held in a groan while his leopard roared for release. It wanted to lick, to bite, to assert its dominance, but he held the beast in a strong grasp. Once he started, he’d hold her at his mercy, and there was something she needed to do first. He lifted his hand to cup the back of her head and nudged her forward.
“Do it before I lose control, Ajax,” he rasped.
Teeth. Hard biting teeth. He clenched his jaw hard enough to break and threw his head back with a growl. When he realized there was no getting control of his impulses, no holding back, he let his claws burst through his fingertips and shredded her T-shirt. It floated to the floor in a tattered ruin, but he ignored it, caught and held instead by round breasts, by nipples made into rigid points of arousal. He took one in his palm. Explored. Shaped. Releasing it, he grabbed her hips and slid her up the wall so her breasts were at his eye level. Then he pressed forward and sucked her nipple between his teeth. She wrapped her legs around his body and cried out.
He let go and admired the moisture he’d left, the shocking redness. He wasn’t worried he’d hurt her. He could feel wetness through her jeans as she ground her pelvis into him, soaked in her moans and whispered words of encouragement. She was driving him crazy, and that need mixed with the deep fury he still felt at her deception had him riding a lethal edge.
He reached behind him and unhooked her ankles. Set her on the ground and stepped back. She met his gaze with lust filled eyes. He tore his shirt over his head and reached for the snap on his jeans.
“Get your jeans off,” he ordered. Her eyes followed his movements as he carefully tugged his zipper down. She stood frozen in place. “Now,” he growled shoving his jeans over his hips and down his legs. He kicked them off as she finally started to remove hers.
Too damned slow. She was struggling with her zipper when he took over. He wasn’t gentle. He didn’t have any gentleness left in him. The offending jeans were yanked off, gone in seconds, and she was left exposed to him. He spun her around and placed her palms flat against the wall high over her head. He growled a warning close to her ear when she tried to lower her arms. She froze, but he was pleased when he smelled no fear only excitement on her skin.
He took a steadying breath, fought with his cat’s enthusiastic approval of her current position—fought its need to take over. Instead he gave into the urge to explore, to stroke and pet, assuaging the leopard’s tactile need for touch. Her skin was pale and clear. Unblemished except for the few scars he’d already discovered. Soft. So soft.
He trailed his hands over her shoulders. Down her back. Stepped closer when he shaped the rounded globes of her ass. She groaned when he spread her and rubbed his thumb against the tiny puckered hole there. He nudged her thighs apart with his knee and let his cock slip between her legs, groaning at the heat and cream that escaped her pussy. She rolled her hips. The friction was exquisite. Tempted him to rush when he was determined to go slow. He slapped her ass hard enough to leave a rosy print.
“Stop that.”
She whimpered but held still as he went back to his exploration. He used his thumb to press a slow steady rhythm against her asshole, but he didn’t seek entrance. Instead he read her reaction. Her heart beat faster, the sweet scent of her arousal grew stronger.
She turned her head to the side, one cheek pressed against the hard wall. She was flushed, a pink tint to her skin. He slid his fingers lower, thrusting them between the folds hiding her slit. Groaning, she jerked against him, and he bit her nape in warning. When she was still again, he dipped a finger into her cunt. Just rimming the entrance, he tortured her. Tormented her. A fine tremor had taken over her body, and he knew she was struggling not to come, fighting an orgasm she knew he wasn’t ready for her to have yet.
Her submission, her compliance, satisfied the cat like nothing else could. He edged his fingers a little farther into her channel while reaching around her torso, the wall scraping his knuckles as he made just enough room for his hand, palming one breast. Her breath hitched when he took her nipple between his fingers and squeezed. At the same time, he thrust his fingers all the way into her.
“Come now, Ajax,” he growled against her throat, exulting at the way she clenched around him and screamed her release.
He didn’t give her any time to come down. Removing his fingers from her, he repositioned himself pushing his cock slowly up. Deep. He rolled his hips, loved the way she convulsed around him. No protest. No resistance. Even though he held her pinned against the wall and, as he was learning, she was just as dominant in personality as he was, she gave him complete and total power. One day, soon probably, she’d want to try reversing that, want to take the sexually dominant role. The idea had never appealed to him before, but he was intrigued. He could give it a shot with Ajax, give her that kind of control. That kind of trust. But not now. For now he was in charge.
She trembled, and he knew she was going to come again. Knew he could hold her off or make her respond over and over all night long if he wanted to. But he didn’t have that kind of control in him right now. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her. He stayed lodged inside her as he carried her to the back of the couch. Gritted his teeth against the seductive friction as he positioned her leaning forward over it.
He ran a hand up and down her spine. Goose bumps rose in its wake, and he explored them a moment, fascinated by this new sign of her stimulation. They couldn’t hold his interest long though, and he started to move in slow but hard strokes designed to push them both beyond reason,
beyond thinking. He leaned over, covering her body with his and dropping small kisses up her back until he reached the nape of her neck.
Following instinct, allowing the leopard to rule his actions, he clamped down, holding her still with his teeth. He felt a fresh wave of her cream drench his cock and shuddered, clenched his jaw, fighting the orgasm that was coming on too soon. He couldn’t hold off long so he reached between them and found her clit. One rough rub and she shook, her entire body caught as she exploded again. It was all he needed to break his bonds and he pounded into her, holding her in the submissive pose until he also screamed in release.
Dismayed, he realized he smelled blood and found he’d pierced the skin on her throat when he’d lost control. Lapping at it, he groaned and stood, but he only released her long enough to turn her around to face him. A tremor wracked her body, and she looked a little shell-shocked. A wave of remorse and tenderness threatened to undo him.
He should apologize, but he couldn’t promise it wouldn’t happen again. He could show her more easily than express the words anyway. Picking her up, he moved to the front of the sofa and lay down with her. She curled up against him, head pillowed on his chest, hand clenched over his belly. He petted, soothed, felt her relax enough to mold herself against him and drift off to sleep. He held her like that a long time, then reluctantly rose and carried her to one of the bedrooms, tucking her in and murmuring soothing words when even in sleep she protested being left alone.
He was in the living room pulling on his jeans as the knock came at the door. His fur rose in menace, the cat pissed at the intrusion, but it settled when he picked up his father’s scent. He opened the door and stepped out of the way when Hector and Patrick walked in. He would have bristled at the other man’s presence but it was clear from his scowl he could smell what had happened in the room earlier.
The wereeagle stalked in and glared at Nico. The look focused on his neck and he refused to lift a hand, to touch the mark Ajax had left. She was his. He was hers. His annoyance lifted to be replaced with a sense of rightness. Of belonging. It was an odd feeling for a loner leopard.
“Where’s the queen?”
Nico raised an eyebrow at the demand in the tone. “Sleeping.”
“She should hear the arrangements.” Patrick was trying to exert rights over his queen. Not on Nico’s watch.
He smiled, letting his expression go cold and feral. It had little effect on the bird, just a slight shift in his eyes of knowledge. Nico spread his feet into a fighting stance and crossed his arms over his chest.
“The way I figure it it’s her job to rule all the birds and yours to advise her. Right?”
Patrick nodded clearly suspicious.
“And who protects her from you all? Who shields her from the petty demands of an entire race?”
Patrick’s fists clenched. “This isn’t exactly petty.”
“No.” Nico shook his head. “But we might as well start the way we’re going to continue.”
“With you as go between?” Patrick asked derisively.
“No. With me as protector.” Everything settled inside him at the statement. The turmoil. The questions he hadn’t been able to address yet. “Her safety is my responsibility.”
“You’re staying?” Hector asked.
“Of course I’m staying.” Had there really been a question about that? “Where else would I would go?”
A gasp behind him. A sense of relief. He fought the urge to whirl around and face her, let her approach on her own. He’d been so focused on dealing with her advisor he hadn’t heard her rise from bed or scented her presence as she approached.
She stopped beside him, a little behind. He could easily step in front of her if she was attacked and he realized that’s why she’d positioned herself as she had. Not that she couldn’t defend herself, but because she knew he wouldn’t let her. Her fingers curled around his shoulder and squeezed. A sign of solidarity, of support from one mate to the other.
Chapter Six
“You have news?” Ajax asked. She slid her hand down Nico’s arm and linked her fingers with his as she stepped forward. He tensed but kept his protest to himself. She smiled inwardly. Her cat was learning.
Patrick inclined his head just enough to be polite. “Tomorrow at dawn.” She could feel Hector watching her with interest but ignored him as Patrick paced around the room. He met her gaze and jerked his head at Nico. “You want to explain the rules or should I?”
Hell, no. She wanted to enjoy the rest of the day and not fear for what morning might bring. Nico stepped behind her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, tugged until she leaned back into the embrace. “Tell me, Patrick.”
Patrick looked him over. “I hope you’re as good as you think you are.”
A growl welled up in Nico’s chest, and she set her palm flat on his thigh. His muscle spasmed at the touch, but he quieted. “I am.”
The other wereeagle nodded. “You’ll need to be. Mathew’s one of us, a Guard. He’s only been Regent the last few years since Ajax’s mother stepped down as queen, but he’s kept in fighting shape.”
“Why was he Regent and Ajax not queen?”
Patrick shook his head. “That’s for her to tell.”
“I refused,” she said softly for Nico’s benefit and pleaded with her eyes for Patrick to understand. To forgive. They’d been good friends once. Comrades. “The throne killed my father and destroyed my mother. You can’t blame me for…resenting that.”
Patrick held her gaze a long time and finally nodded. “There’s a lot to do now.”
Acceptance. She couldn’t fight her relief, and Nico hugged her tight in support.
“Let’s deal with this first. Mathew’s behind it all, isn’t he?”
It was hard to concentrate with Nico pressed against her back, but at least it saved her from being overwhelmed by the what ifs. What if she’d taken the throne when she was eighteen? What if she’d become suspicious of Mathew sooner? How many people had died in the last year because of her inaction?
“No guilt,” Nico whispered in her ear. “You can’t change the past.”
Tears pricked her eyes, and she hurriedly blinked them away. She’d been taught to show no emotion, had spent years pretending she didn’t feel remorse, and in two days, he’d blown that control to hell. She had an urge to turn around and hide her face in his shirt. Yesterday it would have freaked her out, but it no longer worried her.
She shifted a little so she could put her arm around his waist, but he kept her close, tucked up under his shoulder. For the first time in years she felt like she belonged. She felt whole.
He’d said he was staying. Her first terror dealt with. The second wasn’t so easy.
“The rules,” she reminded Patrick.
He tilted his head to one side and studied her before answering. “I expected more protest from you actually.”
She snorted and looked up at the wereleopard standing so close. “Wouldn’t have done me any good. Seemed like a waste of words.”
Patrick grinned but his gaze was assessing. “True. You were always quiet for a girl.”
She smirked. “Watch it, buddy. I can still kick your ass.”
“You could try.”
“You’re on.”
“I hate to interrupt old home week,” Nico drawled, “but could we get back on target?”
They sobered and Nico spoke to Patrick. “Why would she protest?”
The male wereeagle looked back in forth between the two of them and she shook her head slightly. She knew Nico would just get pissed off again. Patrick ignored her. He shrugged.
“It’s not like she hasn’t been challenged before. Happens all the time, and she deals with it. But traditionally, once an heir accepts her rule, she can’t fight her challenges herself anymore. Queens are too valuable. Besides, it’s rarely done. The heir has usually more than proven herself by this point.”
“What happens if her representative loses?”
; Patrick narrowed his eyes. “Would it be better if I do it?”
Nico snarled, and she turned her head pressing a kiss against his bare chest before biting down. His hand stroked the back of her head, and the snarl stopped. God, he was touchy.
“It was a logical enough question to ask,” he said, voice cold with anger.
“Then the Council convenes and chooses another female from the ruling family to take the throne.” He paused. “That’s never happened before.”
“Okay. What are the rules?”
“There’s really only two. You can fight clawed, but since you’re different species, not in a full shift. And it’s to the death.”
And that was the part that made her blood run cold. It didn’t even give Nico pause.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
There was a knock on the door. Patrick went to open it pausing at Nico’s sharp, “Who is it?”
“I took the liberty of having lunch sent up. And a few other things your father thought you might find useful.”
Nico nodded a go ahead and the door was opened. Two women from the large enclave staff pushed in two rolling carts. The first contained food. It was pushed into the kitchen where the top was unloaded onto the island and the hidden compartments on the side into the cabinets and refrigerator.
She arched an eyebrow at the second. Nico took the rolling desk from the woman pushing it and placed it on the wall between the front door and the bedroom then pulled one of the armchairs over. The food cart and employees disappeared while he unwound the various cords that went with two laptops and a couple of phones.
He had a happy distracted look on his face. Like a kid in a candy shop. The three of them gave him space. She ate one of the sandwiches at the counter and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge watching while he plugged in various wires and booted up the computers.
“Bring me one of those, baby,” he said while focusing on a screen and typing commands, his tone distracted.
Renegade Passions: Forbidden Passions, Book 4 Page 6