Purr For Me

by Skylar Sinclair

  Locking eyes with his, despite him being in his human form, his eyes held a powerful message and the intensity they gave off made her body shiver from the knowledge of what he was going to do to her now. She would pay for running from him.

  Standing before her, he was once again a magnificent lion tamer. Then with calculated movements, he started stripping. He started with his leather vest, which really did not hide much to begin with, letting it glide down over his broad shoulders and muscled arms until it hit the ground behind him. Never taking his eyes off of her, he unsnapped each wristband, flinging them away as he did. Next, went the boots, toeing them off with graceful ease. The socks followed in the path with the boots up on the damp grass.

  With each article of clothing that left his body, Panteara panted a little harder, and her legs started to become rubbery. She fought to keep her composure and not melt at his feet, begging for him to take her—take her hard and fast. The last vestige of his clothing was pealed down his strong-corded legs. He wore only a nasty knowing grin, a huge erection and the lion tamer's whip unfurled next to his nude body.

  Panteara jumped when he cracked the whip, getting her full and undivided attention. Like he didn't have it before?

  He walked with a prowl-like tread toward her. “Don't even think of moving, not even to blink,” he said, pronouncing each word in a warning growl.

  Her skin crawled with fear and lust, as each step brought him closer to her. She could smell her own arousal as it trickled down her inner thighs.

  His head lifted and tilted back as he sniffed the air. Fresh lust was apparent in his piercing golden gaze. An arrogant smile broke apart his lips and his eyes hooded in knowing assurance that she was his.

  Within a hair's breadth of touching, he reached up and fisted his hand into the back of her hair, forcing her head backward. His other hand still had the wicked looking whip dangling behind him. The thought of that whip, and what he might do to her, caused a nervous twitch down deep inside her pussy.

  "My name is Roarke, but you will call me Master. I want to hear you say it. Now!"

  He watched her moisten her lips with her pink tongue as her eyes dilated with desire as he instructed her. A tongue he would have licking and worshiping his cock soon.

  When Panteara hesitated for just a second, he whirled the whip around and above their heads, then pulled it down in a commanding flick of his wrist. Only to have it land close to her feet with a wicked snapping recoil vibrating the air.

  She grasped loudly, “Yes, Master."

  His hot words flowed over her. His explicit and commanding terms caused her sex to twitch and contract with each voiced demand. Her throat constricted and she fought to swallow as she willed her limbs to stop trembling.

  Burying his nose and lips close to her neck he'd exposed with a firm tug of the hair, he still held firmly wrapped within his large fist. He growled another command.

  "Grasp your hands behind your back and spread your legs wide apart. And stay that way."

  To help her along, he wedged a knee between her legs and pushed.

  Running his rough textured tongue near her ear, he whispered, “Good pussycat. Now don't move."

  Using the handle of the whip, he ran it down between her legs, caressing the inside of each thigh before finally moving it up into the folds of her sodden sex, teasing and torturing her highly sensitive clit. He knew he was driving her to her breaking point—it was, after all, his plan. Roarke needed to establish dominance over her body and mind. Then, and only then, would he show his true emotions to his mate.

  Panteara whimpered and pressed her body against his as he licked her neck after giving it little nips and nibbles, while working the handle of the whip gently with smooth strokes along the hood of her swollen clitoris.

  He pulled the handle back and brought it up under his nose, taking a deep whiff of her juices that dripped down the leather handle. His tongue eased out from between his parted lips, to lick the handle like it was a juicy lollipop. Moaning his pleasure, he devoured every dewy drop.

  "You taste like a ripe peach. I bet if I split you open you'd even look just like one."

  Her eyes were closed tight and her breathing was ragged and uneven, as she fought not to collapse.

  "Poor little kitty,” he purred against her lips. He played his tongue along the seam of her full lips, and then he rubbed his lips along her jaw-line, growling as he did. Finally, he kissed her with all the pent up tension and passion he'd been holding back.

  Panteara moaned as he played with her mouth. He would be rough one minute, soothing the next. Suddenly he dropped the whip, and swinging her into his hefty arms, walked toward a park bench not far from where they had been standing.

  He quickly sat down with her still in his arms and positioned her over his distended cock. “Put your legs on either side of my hips. I want you to ride me. Take your pleasure with me deep inside of you. I want you filled with my seed."

  Panteara was rocked to her core, shaking with the overwhelming need to breed. “I—I need help.” She had even had trouble getting words through her passion-swelled lips.

  Roarke took deep gulps of air, trying to get his beast under control. She was getting close to changing back to her human form as the midnight hour approached. Her twenty-four hour shift of being a playful puss was coming to an end. Weakness always followed the change.

  He stroked her furred back, gentling her with soft words, holding her close to his heart. The feel of her pelt was sensuous and familiar to his fingers.

  When she had settled, he used his fingertip to raise her chin so that she was looking into his eyes, feeling the needs emanating from his feral stare.

  "I have to fuck you. I need to feel you around my cock, drowning in the passions that spark and flow between us.” He watched for a sign of acknowledgement and acceptance from Panteara. She brought out the protector in him and animalistic tendencies of possessiveness he never knew existed within his beast. The fierce burning need to take control and love.

  "I am good. In fact, I feel an awakening of my feline senses—alive for the first time in my life. I didn't realize the connection between mates would be so strong, flowing like a live charge."

  "That's my pussycat.” He gave her a sexy wink and then kissed her soundly on the lips to satisfy his need to touch and taste of her.

  Lifting her effortlessly, Roarke placed her over his pronounced cock, teasing the wet entrance of her muscled portal. Mixing their lubrications to enter her carefully, yet it would still be a very stretched fit.

  Panteara put her hands on top his wide shoulders to balance herself atop his large fullness. As he worked his thick stiffness into her, he felt like molten steel forging up inside of her tight wetness. They bonded and blended together as one solid mass of writhing and pulsing flesh. Two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle paired in perfection. God, he felt good when his cock hit the fleshy bulb of her uterus. The sound of their joining was wet and stimulating to the ear. Driving up the flames of demands for each other—within each other—marking the other emotionally and physically and sending sharp prickles firing up all the way to the tips of her nipples. She let her head fall back and her lips parted emitting a moaning purr.

  Slowly, Roarke rocked his hips up and back, then side to side. The whole time using his body as a carnal weapon against her body, letting the hairs of his groin tickle and worry her clit. Raising and lowering her pussy slowly and then thrusting powerfully into her. Alternating his rhythm, he kept finding and hitting the spot that was driving her crazy. Beads of sweat broke out along his hairline, trickling down his forehead.

  As the pleasure in their bodies built, the air around them was filled with the moans and groans of erotic fervor. The smell of sex filled their senses and fueled the need to fuck harder, faster.

  Roarke reached between their pulsating and pumping bodies to tweak her clit. Growling close to her face, “Tell me, who am I. Scream for your mate. Scream my name. Say it. Now!” And with those sexua
l arousing commands, he parted the flesh that guarded the hood of her clit, pressing up and back, with the tip his finger.

  His masterful touch and words rocketed her into orgasmic release. A resounding scream of, “Roarke ... Roarke ... Roarke", slipped through her lips in a ragged yell. Her words hit him with a force that drew up his balls. He couldn't hold back the gush of seed that filled her, only to wash back down onto his lap between their joined bodies.

  Panteara had changed back into human form by the time Roarke managed to find out where she lived and drove them there. Once at her apartment, he carried her straight to bed, carefully and lovingly putting her to bed and covering her up.

  He checked all the doors and window, making sure all was locked and secure. His territorial and protective nature was fully engaged and appeased before he finally found his rest. Pulling her sleeping form tightly against his body, curling around her, Roarke formed a cocoon of protectiveness with his large body. Finding his peace, he let himself drift to sleep.

  Chapter Three

  Roarke slowly opened his eyes. Something was not right and his feline senses were on alert. He ran a possessive hand down Panteara's soft, curved flank, loving her feminine yet animalistic spirit, one that connected her completely to him. Watching her as she slept gave him comfort and quieted the beast that had been raging in him for as long as he could remember.

  His parents had told Roarke that once he found his mate, his animalistic nature would be quieted—controllable, but he just never truly believed them. He'd never thought he would have felt so completely content with one woman. Thank God he had been wrong. Losing himself inside of her warm and welcoming pussy had been heaven to him.

  He suddenly stilled, like the calm after a fierce storm and his nostrils flared, as he smelled the sent of another male invading his territory. His upper lip curled and a low growl rumbled in his chest. He could feel the change already starting as his dominant nature to protect what was his started to overtake him. No one, especially another male was getting near his mate. As the bedroom door quietly opened, he sprang up from the bed in full lion form ready to defend his property—his woman.

  Before he could attack, Panteara jumped between both beast-shifted males, holding them by the scruffs of their necks. Her arms were stretched as far apart as she could to keep them a part. It was like being wedged between two overgrown spitting kittens, both growling and snarling at the other. Panteara shook her head and rolled her eyes at them. Men acted so stupid sometimes.

  She would deal with her big brother later. Right now Panteara needed to soothe the hunter and protector instincts that were emanating off of Roarke in waves, like the grains of sand in a windstorm, hot and stingy when they blew by her.

  Turning toward Roarke, Panteara quietly reassured him that everything was okay and to wait there while she spoke to her brother, as she dragged Troy out of the bedroom. Before shutting the door on his nosey ass, she told him she would call him later and explain everything to him. Reminding him once more what a phone was invented for—to call first!

  With her back to the closed door, Panteara faced Roarke. What she saw made her eyes widen and her insides shudder. He had turned back into his human form, yet she could see him struggling to retain it. His face was a mask of pure fury and his stance ridged with controlled rage.

  Speaking with soft reassurance, she walked carefully and slowly toward him. One hand held up in front of her body. “It was just my brother checking on me. Everything is okay. No need to be angry. Take it easy."

  Within inches of Roarke, she reached up to touch his face. Her hand shook as she did. The only part of him that moved was his chillingly cold eyes as they followed her movements. Eyes now fading from fury to unadulterated savage heat. Panteara feared at any moment he would snap at her.

  Without preamble he growled out, “Get your ass on that bed and lay flat on your back. Put your hands over your head and spread those long legs of yours wide open for me."

  Panteara didn't hesitate this time. She quickly scrambled up onto the twisted bedding. Bedding that was still warm from their bodies. He didn't turn around and face her until she was positioned exactly as he had demanded of her. His naval high cock bounced and weaved as he made his way over to her. On top of the bed, he stalked toward her on all fours, scenting the air as he did. His blond mane of hair was wildly tousled about his head and shoulders, giving him an even fiercer predatory appearance. Full lips were pulled over his teeth, bared and clinched in growling savagery. His need for dominance and, by taking her, would be the only means to appease his animalistic emotions warring inside him. She had to let him find relief and release within her body. She was the ground for his beast. Calming the animal—the lion that he was.

  He stared at her full unshaven pubic area. The beast and man in him liked his women natural, with a thick thatch of hair adorning their precious treasure. The curly hairs seemed to hold and nurture the earthy fragrance of a women's perfume. He licked along his upper lip, as he took in her lush, woolen beauty.

  Running his nose into fragrant curls, he couldn't help but voice his praise. “Beautiful and mine."

  His warm breath ruffled the spongy dark curls, parting them here and there. Blowing across them a few more times made Panteara squirm and moan from the subtle windy caresses.

  "I lust to have you coating my tongue and face, imbedding your scent before you cover my cock with your creaminess."

  His tongue, cat-like and rough, slipped into the folds of her pussy. Lightly scraping and dragging his wet, warm tongue, using it to separating her like a split piece of fruit. A fruit that was juicy and ripe, ready to be eaten—savored.

  This was a woman who's very being called to his beast. He'd always been sexually aggressive. With her, he was more so. The need for dominance and control fed his animalistic side. Now he would feed off her.

  Panteara loved being eaten out, but this man had the tongue of a god. Every nerve in her body fired and sizzled. The erotic image of his head between her legs made her excited beyond words. Giving over his pleasure for her heightened and aroused her, which triggered an intense and blinding orgasm. She couldn't stop the scream that ripped from her lungs and out into the air. “Roarke!"

  This pleased him immensely. “I love the taste, the texture and the smell of you. I will dine on you daily, pussycat."

  He licked and lathed her pussy, not wanting to miss one drop of her fluid juice.

  Not giving Panteara a moment to catch her breath or come down from her screaming orgasm, Roarke flipped her over. “Get on your hands and knees. Stick that fine ass of yours up in the air. I am going to fuck you like an animal."

  Positioning himself behind her, kneeling amid her splayed knees, he rubbed his hard cock at the opening of her sex. He gripped her lush hips, giving her ass a firm resounding slap.

  "Oww,” Panteara squealed with a start, more from the sound than from pain. It actually stimulated her, causing her to lurch forward, rubbing her sensitive nipples on the sheets. He was creating a sexual craving within her.

  "You like that don't you, pussycat? Then how about this.” Thrusting balls deep and holding her hips tightly against his groin. Not giving her any mercy or time to adjust to his generous cock. It felt like he was going to split her in two.

  "Relax your muscles, let your body go. You can take all of me without it being uncomfortable.” He slowly withdrew his large, hard cock, only to slam it back into her hot sheath—a portal that deeply suckled up and down every inch of his rod. Growling as he worked to tame and master her body. Her pussy fit him like a second skin, tight and fiercely comforting.

  When he got through with her, she'd never forget whom she belonged to. He was going to fuck her so hard; she would be able to taste him in her mouth. Tonight, he was going to mark her for all times.

  Roarke was feeling the stress of being on his knees and fighting to work himself in and out of Panteara's tight core. He felt the beginnings of her cunt starting to shudder, and then freeze
up as an orgasm was coming upon her. Leaning forward he bit down on the area between her neck and shoulder, his teeth sank deeply into her flesh, right where the two soft curves met. He was marking his mate so others of his kind would know she was his and to keep the hell away from his possession.

  Panteara's body seized, then broke out in rocking spasms of pained ecstasy. The combination of his animalistic lovemaking and bite were more than her treacherous body could withstand. Her screams permeated the air. Heavy primal pants were forced through her lungs, like an animal that was overheated.

  When she started to collapse down onto her elbows, he held her hips tightly in place to reach his own pinnacle. His roar drowned out the stillness of the room. Panteara was clawing and gripping the sheet, trying to hold back his powerful thrusts and stay on the top of the bed. He released his cum deep within her thirsting channel.

  * * * *

  Panteara felt Roarke shaking her awake. “W—wh—what do you want, Roarke?” she muttered still half asleep.

  "Who the hell is Roarke?” her brother Troy asked.

  She shook her head a couple of times and wiped her hand across her eyes to clear her sleepy vision. “What are you doing back here again? I thought I told you I would call you."

  "Panteara, are you okay? I have not been here today. We agreed that we would go together to Derek's Halloween party tonight, remember?” He looked slightly concerned with her disoriented state.

  Lifting up upon her elbow and trying to pull herself into a sitting position, which she finally managed, she looked around her bedroom, pulling stray hairs away from her face. Could her and Roarke been all a dream? Hell ... who dreamt of being a cat woman that changed to half panther and half human on her birthday? W-ild! Man, what an exotic and erotic dream. She'd remember to never eat Mexican food before taking a nap.