by Celia Kyle
“Maddy?”
Maddy ignored him and instead murmured to Bethy. “You can do it. Easy now.”
A presence entered him, something ethereal inside his mind. It stroked his inner cat and ruffled his hair before sliding a hand along his cheek. He felt it, experienced it, yet he couldn’t see the source. And then an overwhelming rush of emotion crashed into him. Hope. Fear. Worry. Love. It encompassed him and yet he knew they weren’t his.
Bethy.
“Good. A little too much there at the end, but you’ve got it.” Maddy grinned. “Now let’s see how others do.” The woman slowly released his mate’s hands. “This is going to be awesome.”
Wyatt didn’t like the sound of that.
“Ricker! Doll-face! Get that quarter-bouncing-worthy ass down here!”
Bethy snorted, and joy slammed into him. Another of her emotions.
The rapid thump of Ricker’s booted feet on the steps reached them a bare moment before the tiger shifter emerged. The tiger’s muscles were rigid and tense and the scent of his worry assaulted Wyatt. It was potent and furious, filling the room in a split second. The male was focused on Maddy, fear for his mate consuming him. It didn’t matter that Bethy had never harmed a female; he’d obviously been worried.
Wyatt couldn’t blame him.
However, the man’s next action had him raising his eyebrows in surprise.
Ricker took a single step past the stairs and froze, eyes going wide and mouth hanging open before he staggered and fell to his knees. He slumped forward, hands colliding with the concrete.
“Holy shit.” Then the man surprised the hell out of him. He giggled.
Maddy bounced around and giggled while clapping her hands. “Oh, better than awesome! You got owned.” Maddy pointed at her mate.
Wyatt looked to Bethy, trying to figure out if her joy had somehow affected the massive tiger. Her gorgeous eyes settled on Wyatt, the orbs changing from green to gold in a blink and then the scent of her need hit him. His mate wanted him, her sexual desire filling him with that single look.
A purr slid from her chest, and Wyatt felt his cat answering.
Ricker groaned and then gasped, the sounds followed by the aroma of the male’s orgasm. That had his beast reacting in an entirely different way. Somehow his mate’s emotions affected the male and gave him pleasure.
That could never happen.
Wyatt snarled and moved toward the door, fingers flexing while he called on the cat. It jumped forward, ready to destroy the bars and then the male who’d derived sexual release from their mate.
Maddy would probably be sad, but she could find another mate or a string of lovers. He didn’t care. Ricker needed to be gone.
Maddy turned from her mate and focused on him with wide eyes. “Shit.” The woman looked from him to Ricker and back again. “Shit shit. Millie-baby, tone him down or he’s gonna get hurt, m’kay?”
“Huh?” His mate’s voice stroked him.
“C’mon, switch the mojo around and tug on big, bad, and pissed the fuck off.” The last word was followed by a nervous chuckle.
Good.
Then, just as his anger surged forth, ready to assist him in destroying the door, it retreated. It washed away into nothingness, sliding into the abyss as if it’d never existed. Contentment replaced the murderous emotion, and his cat settled into a low purr as its eyes drifted closed.
“What?”
Bethy’s hand slipped into his, and she tugged on his fingers. “Chill out.”
He looked down at her, at their joined hands, and then returned his attention to Ricker as he struggled to rise.
“What. The. Fucking. Fuck.” The tiger growled as he pushed to his feet. A wet spot now stained his jeans.
Maddy helped him stand while bouncing in place. “Right? All kinds of awesome. Can you believe it? I mean, holy frijoles with guacamoles.”
“Maddy?” The woman obviously understood more than any of them.
“Your mate right there?” Maddy pointed at Bethy. “Is the strongest, kicking ass-iest Sensitive ever,” she propped a hand on her hip, “with control problems, and she’s totally projecting. I mean, she’s scary as hell, but I’d pay to see a repeat of that, like, all the time.”
“But what about…” He let his words trail off.
What about the attack? What about the bites? What about the bruises?
Maddy’s grin slipped, and her attention strayed to Bethy before returning to him. “It’s hazy. I’m ninety percent sure the bite is from a snake. Maybe a shifter. Maybe not. But whatever it is, that’s the cause of her memory loss.” She shook her head. “I don’t know about the rest. There’s something there, but it’s just out of reach to both of us.”
Wyatt turned to his mate and sucked in a breath at the tears filling her eyes. “Sweetheart.” He pulled her close and hugged her tight. “We’ll figure it out. In the meantime, we’ll get the guards looking for intruders in the territory.”
“Wet,” Maddy interrupted. “It smelled wet. Damp. Almost moldy. Like a towel that’s been left in a wet heap too long.”
Wyatt nodded his thanks. “Ricker, can you guys make sure everyone else knows?”
“Of course.” The tiger’s voice was deep and raspy, and he refused to acknowledge the hint of sexual satisfaction that filled the syllables.
“Good.” He rubbed Bethy’s back.
“Wyatt?” Maddy sounded hesitant, and he looked to her, raising his eyebrows in question. “Her cat needs a little boost to heal her. The snake’s, guy’s, whatever, bite kinda stunts that part of her. She healed quickly last time because she drank your blood.”
He hated the heat that filled his cheeks. “You saw that?”
“Parts.” She admitted and then sighed. “Okay, all of it, but at least your bits weren’t exposed. I had to see Millie’s tatas, and while they’re gorgeous, they do nothing for me.” She shrugged. “The point is, she needs a little chomper action to get her back to non-purple land.”
Wyatt’s cock thickened at the idea. Memories of their writhing bodies, the scent of her need and the feel of her coming on his hand filled his mind. Bethy rocked her hips, and he knew the same images flashed inside her head.
Nearby, Ricker groaned once again, and Maddy giggled as she clapped her hands. “I so gotta learn how to do that.”
Chapter Nine
“Practice does not make perfect. It makes babies.” — Maya O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride and woman who knows what the hell she’s talking about when it comes to practicing and babies.
Need.
Need need need.
Millie was on fire for Wyatt, burning with desire and anxious to have his hands on her bare skin. His cock thickened and lengthened against her lower stomach, and her body heated in response. Distantly, she heard Ricker’s groans and Maddy’s giggles, but she only had eyes for her mate.
If Ricker and Maddy didn’t leave soon, they’d get an eyeful.
Wait. No. No one should see her mate naked. They needed to leave. Now.
“Geesh!” Maddy yelled. “No need to get your wet panties in a bunch. I’m leaving, I’m leaving.”
The sounds of Maddy’s departure reached her, and she relaxed a bit. At least until the lioness’s voice drifted back to her. “We’re not going far, though. I so wanna ride your wave when you finally let go.”
Millie smiled and nuzzled Wyatt’s chest, sensing his confusion.
She spoke against his chest, a blush heating her cheeks. “They feel everything.”
“Huh?”
“You feel some stuff. But everyone else feels it all as if my emotions were theirs. It will affect their bodies when we…” She shrugged.
“Maddy didn’t seem too influenced.”
“She’s a Sensitive. She can block, or not, if she needs to.”
“So, they’re going to…”
Her face burned. “Ride the wave.”
“And my blood?”
“Will help counter whatever
toxins are in my blood.” A sudden fear struck her, and she looked into his eyes. “I don’t want you to let me bite you because it’d help me. I don’t want to force you—”
“Sweetheart, taking your bite will be nothing but pleasure. I promise.” He brushed his mouth across hers and then licked the seam of her lips. “I want nothing more than to feel your fangs sliding into my skin. I love the scars I have. I love that your cat felt the need to mark me twice. She’s a territorial bitch, and I love it more than you could ever understand.”
Oh, but she did understand. As a not-so-broken Sensitive, she sensed others’ feelings. With the small effort moments ago, his emotions came to her. They couldn’t speak telepathically like Maddy and Ricker, not until they fully mated, but sensing what was in his heart was easy.
The young boy who lived inside him was overjoyed that his mate wanted him, his mate claimed him so completely that he couldn’t ever be tossed away.
Now that she had another heap of problems on her head, she wanted the same assurances. She no longer felt the need to destroy every male who came near her, but now everyone else experienced everything that passed through her mind. Before she was able to simply stay in Gina’s little house and be perfectly content. But now, how far from people would they have to move in order to blunt her ability?
“None of it matters, Bethy.” He lapped at her mouth. “Say the words and no matter what, I’ll be with you. In town or two hundred miles from the nearest person, I’ll be there.”
The dam that’d been holding her back burst into a million pieces. Millie wrapped her arms around his neck and held him steady. She raised onto her tiptoes enough to bring their mouths close, and she whispered her demand against his lips. “Claim me.”
Wyatt growled and fused them together. His tongue clashed with hers, tangling and torturing her with the burning kiss. He encircled her waist and lifted her feet from the ground, moving them across the room, and she trusted him to get them to the bed. Before long, her calves hit the bed frame and he lowered her feet to the ground.
Hands went into action now that they were no longer occupied by holding each other close.
Millie tore at his shirt, yanking the hem from his jeans and shoving it up his chest. Wyatt pulled at the waist of her shorts, tugging and pushing them past her hips. The moment they passed the roundness of her ass, they drifted to the ground. She stepped out of one leg and then kicked them aside, uncaring where they landed.
The moment his hands were done, she jerked at his T-shirt again, and he snared the fabric, lifting and tossing the top away in one smooth move.
And what was exposed had her breath catching in her throat.
Perfection. Utter perfection.
She ran her hands over his chest, tracing the lines of his pecs and then wandering on to the carved ridges of his abdomen. One, two, three, four… She kept counting, traveling south until the deep valleys of his stomach disappeared beneath the straining edge of the waist of his jeans.
And, oh God, his hips accentuated the juncture of his thighs, and she drooled at the idea of tracing them with her tongue, lapping at his skin until she got to his cock and…
Wyatt jerked, and the bulge in his jeans grew. “Damn, sweet, whatever that thought was, repeat it.” He heaved in a breath. “But fully naked.”
Millie shuddered at the heat in his gaze and rejoiced in the sexual power she held over this male. He was hers, but she didn’t think she’d ever be worthy of a man like him. A man who was chiseled to perfection, who cared so much and demanded so little.
Again he caught her emotions and instead of urging her on, he growled low and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her gently.
“Never again.” He bared a fang. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop. You are mine. You are perfect. And you’re mine.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and yanked her flush against him. The thick ridge of his rock hard dick was unmistakable. A fully aroused shifter male held her close, and the desperate scent of his need filled her blood. “Mine.”
His desire overwhelmed her, and she said the first thing that came to her mind. “You said mine three times.”
“Because it’s true.”
Wyatt brought his free hand into her line of sight, showing her a single, sharpened claw. “Stand still.”
She was prepared to ask why, but snapped her jaws shut with a squeak. He allowed her to ease back, and he placed the tip of the nail at the edge of her V-necked shirt. Without any effort, the claw sliced through the taut fabric, the top parting without a sound. With every centimeter traveled, more of her body was exposed until the T-shirt parted to reveal her abundant breasts and gently rounded stomach.
The urge to cover herself surged forth, but the need in Wyatt’s gaze had her resisting her body’s demands.
“You’re gorgeous, Bethy.” He brought his clawed hand up and tenderly cupped her breast.
The dark, black nails should have frightened her, but all they did was increase her arousal. He could easily slice her breast with his claw and yet she knew he would never injure her.
Her nipple pebbled with his ministrations, stiffening until the hard nubbin pressed against the center of his palm. “We need a bed, Bethy. Now. I need my mouth on these, sweets, and then I’m going to feast on the cream between your thighs.”
He nudged her back, and she flopped to the mattress without hesitation.
“I did hear cats like cream.” She grinned.
“Minx.” He reached for the button of his jeans, and she licked her lips in anticipation. He wanted to taste her, well, she wanted to taste him.
“Cat.” She smiled.
“My cat.” He lowered the zipper.
His engorged cock sprung free, its thick, hard length jutting from his jeans. The plum shaped head was red and full of blood, a droplet of pale pre-cum decorating the tip. His heavily veined shaft seemed to beckon her tongue. She’d taste every inch of him, savor his musky flavors and then go back for more.
He left his pants clinging to his hips and nudged her into the position he desired. She lay perpendicular to the wall, her ass resting against the edge of the mattress while her head was by the wall. Her feet dangled and Wyatt used his body to force her legs wider.
“My cat. My cream.” He dropped to his knees between her thighs. “And I want both.”
“Wyatt…” She reached for him, and he pushed her hands to the blanket.
“No, love. I’m going to taste you and then I’m going to fuck this pussy.” His amber eyes met hers, and he cupped her mound, pressing against her swollen, slick lips. “My pussy.”
Millie whimpered and squirmed, shifting her hips and rubbing against him.
“You’re so slick and wet, sweetheart.” Wyatt rubbed her and she opened her legs wider. She wanted him, his fingers, his mouth, his cock. All of it.
“Please,” she whispered and shuddered.
“Anything for you.” He murmured and removed her hand, yanking a whimper of disappointment from her. “Easy. I just want to get my mouth on this pink cunt.”
God—need raced through her—what his words did to her.
Wyatt stroked her inner-thighs, starting at her knees and running his hands along her legs. His calluses stroked and teased her warm skin, the rough touch adding to the need building inside her.
His thumbs teased the crease of skin where her thighs met her pussy, gently rubbing and tormenting her with the caress. With each pass, he eased closer to her damp sex lips. He tortured her, sliding up and then down, traveling to the very top of her pussy and then down to the curve of her ass.
Millie wiggled and squirmed, jerking her hips to the left and then the right in an effort to get him to delve deeper. All it managed to do was draw a chuckle from her mate.
Jerk.
Then he slid one thumb along the seam of her sex, softly tracing the line, and she trembled in excitement with the touch.
“Is that what you want?”
Millie shook her head. “More.”
&nb
sp; “Then look at me. Watch me taste you.”
She hadn’t even realized she’d closed her eyes or dropped bonelessly to the mattress. She forced herself onto her elbows and demanded her eyes open.
Oh, that was very, very wicked.
Pure amber eyes met hers, the hue telling her it wasn’t just Wyatt the man making love to her, but also Wyatt the lion. Millie’s cat perked up and purred, the addition of the beast gentle instead of overpowering.
“Good girl.” He remained focused on her and then his thumb slipped between her lower lips, sliding over the slick inner-tissues and then…
She gasped and arched her back, sucking in a breath with the pleasure he created. He stroked her clit, pressing against the bundle of nerves.
“Yes,” she hissed and then cut off the sound when he retreated. She whined and raised her head.
Wyatt grinned. “Eyes on me if you want to come, love. I’ll make you scream, but you need to know it’s me making you scream.”
“It’d never be anyone else, Wyatt. Only you.” Her mate gave an approving rumble and then his touch returned to where she needed him.
That thumb stroked her clit, rubbing the nub with gentle strokes. Back and forth, a slow glide that pleasured her without sending her flying to her peak. His caresses came in a steady rhythm, his attention on her. It was as if he tested her, ensuring she’d remain focused on him while she enjoyed his ministrations.
“More, mate.”
Wyatt grinned and gave her what she craved. His touch transformed from gentle brushes to determined circles, sliding ’round and ’round her clit.
“That’s it,” her words came out as a hoarse whisper and she rolled her hips. “Right there.”
“Here?” He circled her twice more and then suddenly fingers speared her pussy, delving deep into her heat. She jolted and screamed with the invasion, with the overwhelming pleasure it caused. “Or here?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe both?” Now his fingers pumped in and out of her cunt while his thumb toyed with her clit. He fucked and stroked her, teasing and arousing her more and more.