by Marilynn Fae
"Self-preservation," she whispers, unable to lie. There are many like her, shifters so used to hiding that they never show their real colors. Most people don't have his affluence and power. If the public were to know what she is, it's likely she'll be captured and her eggs frozen to 'preserve' her kind or something like that. She knows shifters have been experimented on for as long as they've existed and their dwindling numbers have only caused the scientists to be more frantic in catching whoever they can.
He lets go of her shoulders so that her feet can touch the ground. She scurries out from under the taller man as though she'd been scorched. Fighting the uncomfortable heat that seems to have rushed over her entire body and up her face, she mentally shakes herself and turns her head to the side, avoiding eyes that she knows is still staring at her. "You're like me," he says.
She doubts it. He's a werewolf. She's a werecat who's not only incapable of achieving full shift, she's so much like her animal that she can never hide her ears or tail.
His scowl morphs into an amused smirk that leaves her in thrall. It's really unfair how much he affects her.
Her body heats up, tension growing in her core. Maybe she's coming down with something.
"I want to show you something," he says and as if on cue, the elevator dings and the door slides open.
Chapter Five: Chew
"I should go to work" she insists, trying to dislodge her arm from his firm grip to no avail.
He's ruining her whole day's routine by keeping her here. She struggles to free herself from his tight grip and freezes when he turns around and growls at her, upper lip pulled back in warning.
The moment the elevator door opens all the way, he steps out, hauling her behind him, easily keeping hold o a desperately writhing April with one arm. The elevator door slides shut and he pulls her through a set of heavy double doors that shuts with a loud thud. He lets her go.
She twists around and quickly grasps the door handles with both hands. The button on top of the handle lights up for a second and then disappears. She jingles it again.
"It won't work unless you have access," he says smoothly, not worried about her escaping because he knows he has her trapped.
She turns back around and squares her shoulders, tilting her head up to look him in the eye and immediately regrets the decision. He's so intimidating. Wisps of black hair drifts above his eyes and his jaw is tense with an unspoken irritation that radiates his body. She wonders if that's just his default setting: perpetually terrifying.
She lets her focus skitter across the wide expanse of carpet and lands on a long meeting table that smells with a bourbon cheery finish that smells, for some reason, like espresso. Flanked by the impressive city backdrop, floor to ceiling on three sides, with the golden sun just rising above the horizon, it is a sharp contrast to the basement she has been spending the majority of her time in. It holds the decadence of the insanely rich with too many empty spaces surrounding the table.
"You ran from me yesterday," he says.
Shock jolts through her as she finds herself meeting his gaze again. His eyes ensnares her in an air of barely leashed menace that seems to wrap around him like a shield. She flushes, unable to deny his accusation, her mouth going dry.
"Do I scare you?" he asks.
She nods, wondering why he's asking for something that's blatantly obvious. He terrifies her.
She spies the slightest curve of his lips before she looks down again. She wants more than anything to wrap her fingers around her tail and rub her face with the tip to soothe herself. Her long tail twitches with the desire to do exactly that and his gaze lands on her stomach, where she has her tail wrapped firmly around herself.
"You have nothing to be afraid of," he says.
She doubts that. Even now, she feels imprint of his fingers on her arm, sure to leave bruises. Unlike werewolves, werecat don't have that superspeed healing. They're a lot more agile, though that help her species when they were being hunted down. Hard to outrun a gun. She wonders if she can use her agility against him. Maybe she can get the window open and climb to her freedom.
"Would you give me a kiss, kitten?" he asks out of nowhere.
She stands shock still for a second, blinking dumbly because surely she's heard him wrong? He's not asking- She peers up at him carefully and sees the seriousness in his gaze. A rosy blush rises to her cheeks when she realizes he's being serious. She wonders if the CEO for the company she works for has a screw loose. "I don't know you," she says, interlinking her fingers in front of herself and looking determinedly anywhere except his face.
"That's not a no," he says.
She takes a step back, and her back slams against the door that is blocking her escape. His hands are on her waist, lifting her up so he can line their lips together.
The unexpected press of his lips on hers startles her enough to suck in a sharp breath and his tongue darts past her parted lips in an instant. She is thrust back against the solid door and her eyes blink close as he kisses her. His lips are surprisingly soft against hers, pressing with an urgency that takes her breath away. His knee works between hers, coaxing her legs apart with ease.
She knows she should be fighting back, pushing him off and getting free but his grip is firm and she feels like prey trapped beneath a larger, stronger predator and his lips on hers feel nice. He licks into her mouth, tasting her and dominating the kiss entirely. She doesn't know if he's a good kisser or not, being so inexperienced herself. She feels tingles all the way from where their lips are touching down her spine to the tips of her toes.
Her fingers find their way to the lapels of his suit, clutching tightly.
Tentatively, she tries to kiss him back. She picks up the bitter tang of coffee and something else she can't discern. The small gesture makes him growl, his fingers tightening around her waist, leaving more bruises the shape of his hands on her skin. The deep sound of his growl vibrates down her spine and makes every nerve ending in her body come awake with lust.
Too quickly, his lips part from hers, his breath grazing her jaw as he exhales softly against her skin. He leaves a trail of kisses down her neck and shoulders and she gives into the uncontrollable shiver as her body betrays her and she tilts her head to the side, offering her more of his neck. He trails open-mouthed kisses down her collar bone, sucking occasionally to leave blue-black bruises on her pale skin.
Pleasure wracks through her body, destroying her common sense. In the haze of confusion and pleasure, she remembers that she knows nothing of the man and she shouldn't be letting him touch her like this.
"Stop," she whines softly, swallowing tears.
He pulls back only to lift her into his chest, holding her tight as he settles into one of the soft couches.
He secures her on his lap, containing the floundering arms and letting her legs trash out. "Scent me," he says, cradling the back of her head with one large hand and pushing her face to the curve of his neck.
She inhales more in panic than anything. She doesn't know what he wants from her. He smells like sandalwood, like pine and whiskey and- She freezes- He smells like home. She brushes her nose to his chin, rubbing her face against his neck without thinking so she can breathe deeper, pick up more of his scent. It doesn't make sense. The only person who's ever smelled like home to her is her brother. She pulls away as the last of her resistance crumbles. She feels her animal struggling to surface, to come out and greet this new friend.
"You still don't understand?" he questions with a frown. "I'm like you," he says, eyes flashing a golden hue again. At her look of confusion, he sighs and lets his animal surface. The change looks agonizing, nose shifting and bones reconstructing, dark brown fur growing on his skin. It takes only seconds but feels longer.
She blinks, too confused for a second because she's expecting wolf-like features. Instead, she's presented with a face that's unequivocally cat. Jaguar, her mind supplies helpfully. "Not- not like me," she whispers. Bigger. Stronger. Still a cat, but
much, much more dangerous.
"Almost," he rumbles, teeth sharp and too close to her face. The shift back to his human form is much quicker. "Similar enough that my animal recognizes you as kin, as mate," he says.
A large hand sweeps up under her shirt, brushing over the warm tail she keeps hidden underneath. He grips her tail and unwinds it for her stomach, tugging it free.
She tenses and then reacts without thinking, scratching him across his face.
He pulls away too fast and her sharp claws slashes in thin air. "Feisty," he says with a feral grin that makes her tense.
She knows, even without him having to shift, that he is more than capable of taking her in a fight.
"Come on, let me have a look at you," he coaxes, tugging her tail out from underneath her shirt. When she continues to struggle and writhe in his grasp, he yanks his own tie free and in a smooth motion that she misses completely, manages to tie her wrists behind her back, putting her completely at his mercy as he curls his fingers around the thick fur of her bushy tail and pulls it free.
She whimpers and her eyes fill with tears at the sight of her tail out in view like this. She's never let anyone but her brother see her tail. It feels like she's being stripped naked.
"Come now, baby. No need for tears," he says, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "I've been looking everywhere for you," he says. "And you were right here the whole time."
"I'm not- I don't," she starts and whimpers.
Seeing her panic, his resolve to keep her at his mercy crumbles and he quickly frees her hands.
She automatically reaches for her tail. He's gripping it a little too tightly and she doesn't like it.
With a huff, he lets her grab the end of her tail. She brings it to her face immediately, soothing herself by mouthing her tail, rubbing the tip to her lips. He sees what she's doing and his expression turns from amused to worried in a second. "I'm not going to hurt you," he promises. "Look at me," he says, tipping her head up with his forefinger on the bottom on her chin.
She must look quite ridiculous, chewing on her tail like this, tears stinging in her eyes.
"Poor thing. I didn't mean to scare you, kit," he says. "Come now. No chewing," he coos, prying her mouth open by pressing his forefinger in through the gap of her teeth and trusting that she won't bite his finger. He tugs her tail away from her mouth in a gentle way that reminds her so much of her brother.
She used to do this a lot when she's younger and she was feeling anxious. The habit resurfaced a few months ago, when he left to pursue his dreams and she had to cope with living alone and settling into her new job. She doesn't let him know that, though. She doesn't want him to worry. She wonders if Mateo has siblings who chew on their tails when they're stressed too.
"How old are you?" he asks.
"Eighteen," she mumbles, reaching beseechingly at her tail to take it back.
He lets her have it but tuts at her when she tries to put it back into her mouth.
She grooms the fur with her fingers, focusing on getting her long black fur to settle instead of him. The familiar, repetitive movement makes her heartbeat less erratic and she feels herself calming more and more as she keeps doing it, combing fingers through the thick fur and moving her way up, enjoying the soft texture in her palm.
"Can I see your ears?"
She freezes. She's forgotten about him for a second.
He wipes the tear tracks down her cheeks with his palm and asks again in a gentler, more coaxing tone. "Please?"
Her nod is jerky. Her brother did say she needs to make new friends and to talk to Mateo. This probably isn't what he had in mind. His hands move slowly to her head and she feels him take a loose grip of the beanie before sliding it off, careful not to tug on her hair or her ears.
"You have beautiful ears," he says and she can't help but preen a little at the praise. She takes good care of them. To her surprise, he brushes his cheek to them, leaving a hint of his scent on her fur.
She stays absolutely still in his lap, letting him touch and curl his hands around her waist, pulling her so close to him that it's impossible to see where he stops and she begins.
Then, he starts to purr, the rumbling noise causing her to relax despite herself. He turns her head and draws her into a second kiss with a firm grasp of her jaw.
If the first kiss was soft and sweet, this second one is nothing like it. The wet heat of his tongue is inescapable and intoxicating, amplifying the underlying scent that fills her entire body. It's intimate and absolutely overwhelming.
She bucks in instinctive panic, a wild attempt to fight free, only to find herself grinding against his lap and a terrifying, burgeoning hardness. The tight grasp on her jaw forces her mouth open and he dominates the kiss instantly, sweeping away all rational thought as his free hand circles her waist and pins her arms to her side. She doesn't know if everyone kisses like this. It feels a little too much.
She's beginning to grow a little light-headed and when he finally draws back, an obscene line of saliva stretches between their tongues before it splits. His golden pupils are blown black, molten gaze blistering as he takes in her flushed face and swollen lips.
"Sweet little kitten," he grins and it reminds April so much of a wolf that she wouldn't have believed he was a cat if she hasn't seen it with her own eyes.
"I- I should get back to work," she demurs, looking back down at her lap, where she's continuing to groom her fluffy tail.
"No," he says, tightening his grip on her. "Stay a little while longer," he coaxes. "I'd like to know more about you, if you'd be so kind to share."
Chapter Six: Still
April spends the rest of the morning in his lap being cuddled. It's nice, almost peaceful. She feels like the last piece of puzzle has suddenly clicked into place and everything is perfect. But the rational part of her can't help but think that something about this is wrong.
People- normal people don't fall in love like this. There's whirlwind romance and there's Mateo wrapping his arms around her while he shifts through his work like it's the most normal thing in the world. She has never been a very touchy person except with her brother. But he has learned to keep his distance from her ever since she went through puberty. Something about it being inappropriate.
Mateo doesn't seem to think that anything about their position is inappropriate. He is content just holding her and breathing in her scent while he reads through what looks to be confidential files on the meeting desk.
Occasionally, he would give her a sip of his coffee, bringing the cup to her lips and letting her take a small sip, and then he'll take a bigger sip and let her rest her head back to his neck to keep her close. She doesn't understand any of it.
Despite everything, she's comfortable in his lap like this. He is big enough that she can curl her legs up comfortably and lean against his chest. She had been working long hours the past few weeks and it's nice to finally be able to rest without having to worry about getting fired. Or Omi standing too close to her cubicle and caging her in when he stands too close behind her.
She closes her eyes and listens to the steady beat of his heart. It doesn't take her long to fall asleep like that, curled up in his lap with her arms cradling her long tail, ears tucked back and knees curled against her chest.
By afternoon, her stomach has started grumbling loudly. Normally, she would have lunch with James, Jenny, and Lilith. She wonders if James still decided to quit now that Mike is no longer in charge. She kind of misses work. "I'm bored," she says when it becomes clear that he's content sorting through his work and signing documents. "And hungry," she adds quietly, struggling once again to free herself. "I want to go back to work."
He lets out a warning growl and tightens his grip, scenting her aggressively by rubbing his chin on the top of her head. "I'll get you something to eat," he promises.
She shakes her head. "Tuna sandwich," she whispers. She has it for every meal, occasionally putting a few pieces of lettuce because her brothe
r insists, she needs vegetable in her diet.
"Tuna sandwich?" he echoes.
She nods. It's the only thing she eats.
"What about sushi? Fresh tuna? I can have the chef make you something nicer?"
She shakes her head. She doesn't like variety. "I have it in my bag," she insists. She doesn't know why she's like this. She worries that he'll deny her but then her stomach gives an impressive rumble and she blushes.
"Stay still, baby," he says, pressing a kiss between her ears and tucking her closer to his chest as he stands up to head towards her bag for her lunch.
Chapter Seven: Heat
Mateo Kenzo is a man who is used to getting everything he wants when he wants it.
He used to have a family, a mother and father and two younger brothers. But they were all werecats and they were caught in their cat when it was rigged to explode by a Shifter Hate group. People who not only went unpunished but were heralded for what they had done because it was during a different lifetime where Shifters were treated as something less than human. Less than animals.
Afterwards, he thought he was alone. He thought he was the only Cat Shifter left.
It seemed impossible when he picked up the whiff of familiarity in his office a few weeks ago. And then again and again. Something that smelled like home and perfection. It is a fleeting sort of aroma, one that doesn't linger long enough for him to be able to find her and definitely doesn't stay long enough for him to be able to track her.
It is through sheer luck that he decided to go down to the basement that day. Tom is very good at getting things done but he knows people like Mike. Kids who are so used to having their way that it is safer to have him along. And he had been rearing for a fight.
He hadn't expected her to literally run into him, smelling soft and perfect. His instinct demands he keep her close, hold onto her like she is his possession.