Mate Claimed su-4

by Jennifer Ashley

Just get home.

  Iona drew a breath, slid her pickup into the quieter side streets of her neighborhood, and made it to her driveway. She shut off her engine, peeled her fingers from the wheel, and let out a long sigh.

  Home. Safety.

  Her next-door neighbor’s cat bounded over, a sleek black-and-white with a black patch over one eye. He jumped onto the hood of Iona’s truck and let out a meow.

  Iona slid out of the truck and reached out to give Pirate a stroke as she went by. He liked Iona—most cats did.

  Pirate drew back in alarm, flattened his ears, and hissed, before leaping down from the truck and running back home.

  Hissing was defensive behavior, what a cat did when it perceived a threat. Pirate had seen the aggressor in Iona, even though she’d meant to caress, and had decided to get the hell out of there.

  Iona hurried inside the house, shutting the door firmly and locking it with shaking fingers. She pulled out a bottle of merlot and poured a tall glass while she tried to think of something for an early dinner.

  Except she wanted only meat, cooked rare if at all. Or maybe fish. She found herself diving through her freezer, searching frantically for something to satisfy her hunger, finding nothing.

  “Fresh vegetables,” she said, pulling out bags from her crisper drawer. “Just why?”

  Takeout. She could get takeout. But she didn’t trust herself to drive somewhere and pick up the food. She grabbed the phone and called her favorite pizza place, ordering three of the all-meat specials. “Having a party, Ms. Duncan?” the order taker asked.

  She practically knew the kid, since she ordered from there all the time. “Yes,” she lied. “Can you rush those?”

  “Sure thing.”

  The pizza took twenty minutes, fast for delivery pizza. Even so, Iona nearly ripped open the door when the car arrived, remembering at the last minute to shove on her sunglasses. She grabbed the pizzas and threw money at the guy, too much, but he deserved a big tip. She slammed the door on his startled expression, and ran back into the kitchen.

  “I’m just hungry,” Iona said out loud. “Eric ruined my lunch.”

  Eric.

  The thought of him brought new hunger, a rising frenzy that wanted her to take Eric by the neck and pull him down to her, to let his body cover hers, to feel his sweat on her skin, his mouth on hers.

  “Eat,” she said to the empty kitchen.

  The pizzas were slathered with hamburger, sausage, pepperoni, and Canadian bacon. It should have been called The Carnivore Special.

  Penny had taught Iona how to eat healthy, nutritious meals. Right now, Iona could care less.

  Eric had said, If you were in your panther form, you wouldn’t worry. You’d gulp it down and spit out the paper.

  Substitute pizza boxes, and he was right.

  Iona got out a plate and napkins before she dumped the pizza onto the plate. She could be civilized.

  She growled. The mirror in her dining area told her that her eyes were still Shifter. She moved quickly through the house, closing all the blinds, then tossed off her clothes and let her panther take over.

  Much better. Iona padded back into the kitchen, put her paws on the counter, and gulped down the pizzas. All three of them, all that meat and cheese going down fast. The tomato sauce and the crust tasted a little weird to her, but it was a small price to pay for the greasy, hot, spicy meat.

  When the boxes were empty, her panther tongue licking up the last bit of cheese clinging to the cardboard, Iona burped. Then she sat down and started washing her whiskers.

  The pizza filled her up and made her sleepy. Iona didn’t generally remain in her shifted form long, in case someone came over to catch her, but right now, all she wanted to do was curl up on her sofa and sleep. She went slowly to her living room, climbed onto the nice cushy sofa, and let her body go limp.

  Iona jumped awake to find everything dark. She lifted her head, startled to find herself still panther. Her claws had dug a deep gouge in her sofa, she saw with her cat vision. Crap.

  She stepped down from the sofa and stretched. She was supposed to feel better—fed, rested, the worry of the day behind her.

  Instead, she was restless, pacing, growling to herself. She needed to shift back to human.

  And found she didn’t want to. She wanted to run, to hunt, to kill. She needed to.

  She remembered the scent of lovemaking on Nicole, the heightened warmth of the baby inside her, and started to wind up again. Iona needed that, the smell of sex, the heat of a male body on hers, wanted to press her hand to her own abdomen and know that life was growing there.

  She needed it now.

  Iona forced herself back to human. The shift took a long time, and hurt, more so than usual, her panther reluctant to let go.

  She stood in the middle of the hallway between living room and kitchen, shaking. The mirror there showed her black hair a mess, her eyes enormous and still Shifter.

  Iona snatched up her phone and started punching numbers.

  He answered this time. Thank God.

  “Eric,” she said frantically. “Eric, I need you.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Eric killed his motorcycle’s engine before he reached Iona’s house, and coasted the dark bike up into the driveway, parking it in the shadows. Iona opened the door for him as he approached, but Eric pushed her back into the house.

  Iona smelled of wild female, full of need. Eric wanted to grab her by the nape of the neck, haul her up the stairs to her bedroom, shut the door behind them, and not come out for a week.

  Iona had put on sweatpants as Eric had told her to on the phone, and she wore a cropped sports shirt that doubled as a bra, its collar hugging her throat.

  The honed body the small shirt revealed didn’t help Eric’s frenzy. They might not even make it to the bedroom.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  Iona nodded. She clenched her teeth, her eyes definitely Shifter.

  They quietly left the house again, Eric leading her to his bike.

  Iona took the helmet he handed her but didn’t put it on. “I’ve never ridden a motorcycle before.”

  “You’ll get it. Helmet first, then hold on to me when you’re on.”

  He straddled the seat and held the bike steady so Iona could mount behind him. Even with her helmet, she looked sexy as hell, felt sexy as hell cuddled up to the back of him.

  Iona figured out how to rest her feet, then wrapped her arms around Eric.

  The night suddenly got warmer. Eric coasted the bike down the driveway, starting it up when they swung out into the street.

  Eric took them north, out of the city, back to the empty country. Feeling Iona’s lithe body against his loosened something inside him, dissolving the last of the pain that had debilitated him this afternoon.

  He opened up the bike once they cleared the suburbs, racing it down the highway under the stars. Iona’s arms tightened around his middle, her strength making him stronger.

  Eric took them well off the road, down dirt trails only he knew, the bike’s light slicing through absolute darkness. The eyes of startled animals glittered in the sudden glow, then faded back out of the way.

  The trail ended in a wash. Here, Eric killed the engine. Iona slid off, hopping a little until she got her leg over the seat, then she ripped off the helmet.

  She was smiling. “Is that what it’s always like?”

  “Nothing’s better than a Harley when you can let it rip,” he said as he dismounted. “Now, strip.”

  He could tell Iona was far gone in frenzy, because she didn’t even blink. She started shedding clothes, and once she was free of them, she shifted.

  Though it took her a couple of minutes, this shift was easier for her than the last time Eric had seen her do it. Maybe because her frenzy was strong tonight, maybe because her wildcat was dangerously close to taking over.

  As soon as she was panther, Iona hit the ground running. Eric quickly got out of his clothes, flowed into his leopar
d shape, and bounded after her.

  Though the panther was fast, Eric’s snow leopard caught up to her quickly. They ran side by side through a wide, sandy wash and then turned and loped along its far bank, dodging brush, rocks, and soft patches of dirt.

  Eric sensed the terror of smaller creatures among the creosote and sage. The animals were picking up on Iona’s need to hunt, to chase, to feed.

  Iona ran and leapt and scrambled, climbing up a hill, gravel scattering. Eric was at her heels.

  The last time he’d chased her, she’d run in fear and anger. This time, he could tell, she ran for the enjoyment of it.

  And for her wild need. Iona’s voice when she’d called him tonight had been half-crazed, Iona barely containing herself. A run might settle her tonight, but her mating hunger wouldn’t stop until it was satisfied. Or it killed her.

  Iona made it to the top of a ridge and raced along it, never minding the sharp stones and prickly weeds. Eric bounded after her, shouldering his way in to run beside her on the edge of the cliff. His need to protect her was powerful, and one missed footfall could mean her death.

  Iona growled and sprinted past him, leaving him in the dust.

  Eric doubled his speed. Iona’s tail whipped across her back in annoyance, then she picked up the pace even more, running recklessly along the top of the ridge.

  As soon as they hit a wide enough stretch, Eric leapt, landed on Iona, and took her down.

  Iona snarled and fought, ears back, teeth snapping. Panther limbs writhed under Eric’s, Iona’s pelt foamy with sweat.

  Eric closed his mouth over her throat, the alpha subduing a pride mate. He held hard without his teeth penetrating, his body weight stopping her struggling. He needed to teach her that he wouldn’t hurt her but that he wouldn’t let her get away either.

  Iona shifted. Soft human flesh replaced fur, scrabbling claws became clutching fingers. Eric found himself with his leopard’s mouth on her warm throat, her pulse pounding beneath the prick of his teeth.

  “Get off me, you big…cat,” she said, pushing at him.

  Eric grunted as he eased away, but he remained leopard. Iona rolled away and to her feet, then she stretched, arms above her head.

  Her body almost glowed in the moonlight, her black hair sleek and beautiful, matching the midnight hair at the join of her legs. Her breasts were round and full, the tips dusky.

  Even in his wildcat form, Eric appreciated the beauty of her. Her body was strong but curved, hips rounding from her waist, her navel a shadowed indent in her belly. He wanted to lick her skin, revel in the silk of it, let his tongue find the sweet honey he knew waited for him between her thighs.

  Iona stood above him without shame, a woman enjoying the freedom of being bare under the starlight. She laughed, then she spun away from Eric, shifted again, and ran.

  Little shit. Eric growled and was after her.

  Iona heard Eric snarling as he chased her, but she didn’t care. He was trying to subdue her, make her obey, and Iona wasn’t about to obey.

  The human part of her laughed as her panther paws connected with the earth, her wildcat fast and strong.

  Eric, though, was faster. In about ten strides, he was on her again, taking her down to the packed earth.

  Iona landed on her side but instinctively rolled onto her back, feet coming up to fend him off. Eric locked his jaw around her throat again, keeping her from biting him, his teeth sharp in her fur.

  She struggled against him, even that making her want to laugh. Eric thought he’d bested her. Well, he could try.

  But she couldn’t get away. Eric’s leopard body pinned her to the ground, his paws heavy, his mouth unyielding.

  Only one thing she could do. Iona shifted again, the shift a little more difficult this time. Once she became human, she wrapped her arms around several hundred pounds of leopard fur.

  “Eric,” she said.

  He shifted. In a few seconds, Iona found herself hugging not a soft leopard, but a large, well-muscled man with jade green eyes and strength she couldn’t match. He grabbed her wrists, pinned them over her head, and gave her a raw, brutal kiss on the mouth.

  Iona struggled, but his strength excited her. She drew her foot up the length of his leg at the same time she parted her lips and let him inside.

  Eric had kissed her like this when he’d fed her the chocolate. He glided his tongue over her lips, dipped between them, tasted her entire mouth. His weight held her down, his body and hers slick with sweat.

  His breath was warm, fingers tight on her wrists, the rigid length of his cock against her abdomen, Eric not disguising what he wanted. His kiss opened her mouth, the taste of him like sharp spice.

  Iona lifted her head to get more of him. His tongue tangled hers, fierce friction, lips mastering.

  She curled her hands into fists, her struggles against him slowing. Eric’s touch gentled as he lowered her to the ground, his mouth becoming tender. He licked over the lips he’d kissed so roughly, then lightly caressed them, ending with little kisses to the corners of her mouth.

  He raised his head, starlight glistening on his Collar, his throat damp with sweat. “Iona…”

  “What?” she whispered, her body heavy with wanting.

  Eric’s next kiss was savage but brief. “If I take you out here, you’ll belong to me, and me alone.”

  “I don’t belong to anyone,” she said, still defiant.

  His hands tightened on her wrists. “The mate-claim means you go to no other Shifter but me. It means I protect and take care of you, no matter what, no matter how much you fight me.”

  Iona slanted him a smile. “And if I fight you?”

  “You can if you want to.” He growled. “I told you, we like the chase.”

  Iona liked it too, and she really shouldn’t. Eric’s heartbeat thudded against her chest, his skin so hot.

  “You scared me earlier, when you called me,” she said, remembering her worry. “You sounded…” Weak, exhausted. Everything Eric Warden was not.

  “I was in pain.” He kissed her again, this kiss gentle, followed by a light flick of tongue. “Your voice soothed me.”

  “How? I didn’t say anything much.”

  Eric nuzzled her. “The sound of the mate’s voice—her touch, her scent—calms and heals. Better if you’re in the same room with me, but I took what I could.”

  “But I’m not your mate.”

  “Not yet.”

  Iona decided to deal with that later. “Why were you in pain? What happened?”

  Eric shrugged, which moved his body deliciously against hers. “I had to pull one of McNeil’s wolves off one of my Shifters and thump him hard. Even then the wolf didn’t want to yield to me. That’s going to be a problem.”

  “Did the wolf hurt you?” Iona managed to slide one hand out from under Eric’s—because he let her. She traced his shoulder and the tattoo hugging it, finding his skin hot, smooth, the muscle beneath it solid.

  “He didn’t. My Collar did.” Eric frowned as he spoke, as though uncertain about something.

  Iona let her fingers drift to the Celtic knot at his throat. The Collar was dormant, warm from his skin. “This went off?”

  “Sparked, yep.”

  Iona studied the pain that lingered in his eyes, matching the bleakness she’d heard in his voice on the other end of the phone. She brushed fingers over his face, wanting to erase every last vestige of hurt.

  “And my touch helps?”

  “Yes.”

  She traced his cheek again, his unshaved whiskers sandpapery under her fingertips. “Part of me tells me to fight you with everything I have,” she said, her voice softening. “But part of me wants to help you, to make sure you’re all right.”

  “At least part of you wants that,” Eric said, voice going low. “Let me work on the other part.”

  He kissed her again. He didn’t trap her hands this time, and she shivered as she slid her palms across his shoulders and down his back as he kissed her.
Eric’s mouth opened hers, the brush of his whiskers rough on her skin, the taste of them sharp.

  Her need was driving her crazy. Iona ran her bare foot up his leg again, letting her toes caress his thigh.

  Eric was a beautiful man, and he lay on top of her, ready for her. The space between her legs was wet, and she knew that if she moved her hips just right, his hard cock would slide right into her.

  That thought brought the beast back to life. Wanting raged. Never mind how rocky the ground was under her back, never mind she didn’t want to be trapped by this man.

  She wanted his seed. Inside her. Now.

  Iona bit his shoulder, not gently. Eric rumbled, “Easy.”

  “I can’t.” Iona nibbled his neck above his Collar, licking where she bit. “I can’t…I want…”

  “Yes, you can.” Eric grabbed her wrists again, trapping them against the ground. His eyes had gone Shifter, the wildcat pupils slitted. “Control the hunger, love. Don’t let it take over.”

  “You want me. You’re hard as a rock. What’s stopping you?”

  Eric put his face close to hers. “You’re frenzied. I don’t want mating with regrets.”

  “But you want me. I’m going insane…”

  Eric’s hands shoved hers into the dirt, his weight heavy on her. “You’re right, I damn well want you,” he said, the words a snarl. “I want you so much, it’s killing me. I want to pump myself inside you until we’re so spent we can’t get up for days. I want you here and now, all night, who cares if the sun comes up and roasts us alive? I’ll keep going, and so will you. We’ll screw so hard and be so mindless that we’ll probably die, but we won’t give a shit.”

  “Die?”

  “If we give in to the mating frenzy that’s crawling through me and you, we won’t notice. We’ll fuck for days, never mind about eating or drinking or even getting up off this ground.”

  Iona started to smile. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  She wanted it. Wanted him. She fought to get her hands free, to touch him. She needed so much to touch him. She raised her head and licked his throat.

  “I know it doesn’t sound bad,” he said. “It sounds damn good. But I don’t want to kill you, Iona. I want you alive, and with me.”