Hunting the She-Cat

by Jacki Bentley

  “What, five hundred or so,” she joked.

  He didn’t refute that.

  “Why is it we live so long anyway? Age so slowly?”

  “Genetic improvements and disease resistance bred in over thousands of years.”

  “I see.”

  Misha sat down and just watched him a moment, letting his words sink in. Being a princess was not any worse than having a close cousin trying to murder you, but weird all the same. She hadn’t known what to expect Lugar to say but not something like this. Nope.

  “Hell, no, Lugar. This isn’t right. This can’t be. I barely manage my staff at the office without open revolt. I am so not going to try to run a whole alien world of cat shifters. Uh, un. I’d be torn to shreds in no time flat.”

  “No one would tear you to pieces, we are civilized. I believe you will rule with great grace and ease. Your good work with the environment concerns here will serve you well. But that is not the point of this discussion. The current queen, your paternal aunt, is a good and wise ruler and has many years left, barring unforeseen accidents.”

  “Or assassinations.”

  “She is well guarded by an amazing group of males and females.”

  “Of which you were one?”

  “Yes. And Zeff.”

  She picked up Gix, who moaned a protest. “Tell me something? How did my father die then?”

  He looked at her the longest time. “Your father is not dead. Why would you assume as much? We will visit him when it’s safe.”

  Shock waves rolled over Misha. How had she assumed her father gone.

  “I guess I assumed he’d be king if he were alive. Jumped to the conclusion that he -- Oh, God. My father is alive?”

  “Males do not hold the top spot on Eliava.”

  “Only women rule?”

  “Right. Knowing your father lives, changes your mind about visiting the world of your birth, does it?”

  “I could travel a few million miles to see my dad. Yes.” She smiled and laughed. Awake after his power nap, Gix danced and walked on his hind legs expecting a game of tennis ball fetch.

  “I will never get used to this keeping miniature canines as pets.”

  “Hmmm. How large are dogs on Eliava?”

  “As large as we are. We keep to opposite sides of the world.”

  “That’s not very diverse.”

  He shrugged. “But practical, we are natural competitors.”

  “I suppose.”

  “I will make love to you now and he can’t watch.”

  She laughed and stepped into Lugar’s strong embrace. “I’m sure he can go downstairs for a few minutes.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I will need much longer. All night.”

  She laughed.

  Lugar looked at Gix. “Leave us, little canine.”

  She shook her head. “He can’t understand you.” But Gixie gruffed a time or two exactly as if he did understand and then happily bounced down the stairs.

  “The little canine says he has no wish to watch humans make fools of themselves with all the frenzied noises of sex anyway.”

  “Well, hah, the little snob. Are you joking with me? Did he really communicate with you?” He took her left earlobe in his mouth, heating her blood with his action.

  “Mmmm. Mmm. I love that.”

  “I would not lie to you ever, much less for something so small. The canine language is very intricate, a lot of low frequencies grumbles and wuffs and some high frequency squeaks, but I know enough to get by.”

  Shaking her head in amazement, she believed him. “Uncle Joe could use your help at work with the service dogs he trains.”

  “You wish me to stay in your world?”

  “Yes, yes, yes. Very much.”

  “The Queen’s heiress will need a full time guard.” He grinned.

  He nibbled her neck. “Will it frighten you if we make love in cat shape this time, little one?”

  “Oooooh, kinky.”

  He laughed and hugged her to him. “Normal, natural to me, sh’iabla. Tradition.”

  “Not a good idea. Lugar, what if I hurt you? In my … er … excitement, what if I strike at you with my fangs or claws?” She looked down to her hands.

  “G’Ran, Misha.” He closed his eyes. “I am humbled that you think to protect me even from yourself. I can’t believe we’ve found each other. No man can be so lucky.”

  “At least you are aware of it,” she said, wanting to lighten the mood.

  “Shift for me. Please.”

  She did so, hardly noticing the sensations that always came with the change, the crunch of bone, the pull and molding of soft tissues. But a thrilling wildness like nothing she’d felt before, called to her. By the time she was fully cat, Lugar was too. He came to her, extended a long foreleg in a quick move to hold her still. Fear and alarm at the feeling of being trapped took her. He sensed it and stilled for a long moment, allowing her to adjust to his domination. The big cat nuzzled her neck, stroking, soothing.

  “I will go slowly, Misha, mine,” he assured her, his voice rumbling, stirring her to desire for him. He raked a path along her spine with his sharp teeth. Gasping from the sensual surprise of it, she collapsed momentarily to her foreknees with her hindquarters raised to him. He growled his approval.

  Taking his time, as if savoring her, he nuzzled and nipped her hip bones, seducing her, testing her readiness for him. She closed her eyes in ecstasy at the long stroke of his tongue.

  “Are you with me, female?” he asked, whispering urgently into her tawny fur, parting it to find the skin below the soft hair. His voice was so different now, deep, urgent, his breath hot against her sensitized skin.

  “Yes, yes,” she whimpered, her breathing coming fast, her heart pounding hard. “Yes.” Her blood seemed to bubble with need of him, effervescent and exciting.

  He came over her, then into her, sharp and smooth. At the sudden thrusting invasion, she could not suppress an angry snarl. “Wait, no. Lugar.”

  “You would have me stop, love?” He nipped at her cheek. “We’ve waited so long, days.” His words were rasped from his throat. His handsome head rubbed back and forth across her shoulders, soothing her.

  “No. Yes. Just give me a moment to catch my breath and resist scratching you to shreds in the throws of passion.”

  “You’re an aggressive one.” He grimaced, more a lopsided hecat-smile. “I appreciate your reserve.”

  She cried out again.

  “G’Ran’s mercy,” Lugar said. “I’m unsure if you cry from pleasure or pain. Damn it all, I’ve attacked you, jumped on you too abruptly, penetrating you far too forcefully and suddenly.”

  “Lugar. That’s not so, I --”

  “But the temptation is so strong. Your sensual pull is tremendous. And the delicious scent of you intoxicating.”

  Misha closed her eyes as his words thrummed through her entire frame.

  “Pleasure. It’s definitely pleasure. You … are … magnificent, all male,” she said, wanting to assure him he had not failed her.

  “I will control myself now.” She saw that his eyes were closed, his expression serious.

  “It will take time for me to become accustomed to your -- er … length.”

  He waited patiently, still, holding her tight to him.

  When she was ready, more confident in her control, Misha moved against him, backing into him.

  Lugar sucked in a breath of air, a sound she relished. He threw back his head and a loud growl was torn from his throat. “Misha. Misha. My mate.”

  Her brain blurred from the overwhelming sensations, the sweetness of the call of him. “That’s it,” she moaned. “That’s it.

  “I will have you pregnant in no time,” he whispered, baring his teeth, arching his neck. She recognized that the thought of it aroused him even further. He wanted it to happen now. He plunged into her again and again.

  “Oh. God. Lugar. I had not thought of that.” Looking back at him, her eyes were wide
with alarm. “Quick, tell me how many children we have?”

  He laughed and jerked her to him hard, thrusting deep. “Two, love, only two at one gestation.”

  “Oh, oh, that’s good then. I might handle giving birth to two. Ah, this feels sooo unbelievably good.” “Good,” she whispered again. This time she was talking of the lovemaking.

  She relaxed and opened more to his invasion, twisting with him, for him. Just as she hoped, he sped their pace, gratifying his own drive to do so.

  Awed, Lugar watched the beautiful female undulate beneath him in perfect response to his thrusts. Looking back, staring boldly into his eyes, showing him her white teeth, she hissed and spat now.

  “Misha?”

  But she did not ask him to slow the pace, staying right with him movement for movement.

  “Oh, Lugar,” she said on a gasp. “I want you so. This is too … carnal, too sensual … too much for description.”

  “I’m glad little female, very glad. No need to talk now.” He nipped her ear and she rewarded him with a soft groan.

  Coming over him in wrenching waves, the threshold of his orgasm caught him by surprise, hard and swift the throbs pounded at him. For a wild moment, he held his breath, fearing he’d ruined the enjoyment for her.

  But she tossed her head and screamed her passion, only seconds behind him. Her deep enjoyment was very clear; her cries of completion joyous to his ears.

  Enfolding her tighter in his arms, he ordered, “Shift back.”

  They collapsed together to the bedding, shifting to human shape as they went down.

  Lugar wrapped her in his arms tightly, kissing her cheeks, tangling his hands in her soft tawny hair, human hair now.

  “Love you, Lugar Rova,” she said in a drowsy voice, yawning.

  Shock and thrill in equal parts raced through him at her words. “And I love you,” he kissed her long and hard, taking his time with the task of claiming her lips.

  Long sensuous moments of exploring each other passed, then breathlessly, she asked, “Tell me what you said the other day. The Eliavan words you declined to explain the meaning of. What did you say?”

  “I said you are the meat of my heart. Fet t’ian daz v’erta.”

  “What? No.” She rose up on an elbow and looked at him, raising an eyebrow, unsure if he was teasing her.

  “I know, my love. It does not translate well or I am inadequate at translating it better. It means I would die without you, stop breathing, blood would stop beating in my heart. I’d simply stop existing.”

  “And what does, sh’iabla mean?”

  “It means ‘mate of my choice’.”

  “Aww. That’s so nice.” She rewarded him with a quick kiss on his sexy lips and he followed her down to the pillow for more. When he released her lips again, she said, “And to think I almost called security to escort you out of my office that first day we met.”

  “And I almost wrote you off as pretty as hell, but too stubborn to deal with.” He laughed and held her tight against him. “Do you choose me as mate?”

  “I do. I do.”

  The End

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