by Sandra Ross
The Mating (Wild Cats Part One): Erotic Romance Series
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
The Mating: Wild Cats Part 1
By Sandra Ross
The Mating: Wild Cats Part 1
By Sandra Ross
Published by Publications Circulations LLC.
SmashWords Edition.
All contents copyright (C) 2012 by Publications Circulations LLC. All rights reserved. No part of this document or the related files may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means (electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, companies and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
The following story is for entertainment purposes only. This book contains sexually graphic scenes depicting consenting adults above the age of 18 engaging in passionate sexual acts. This story is intended only for persons over the legal adult age. By downloading and opening this document, you are stating that you are of legal age to access and view this work of fiction. Mature readers only. Reader discretion is advised.
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Chapter One
"HELLO. What can I get you today?"
Iliana's heart was pounding. His almond-shaped, green, piercing eyes were on her face. He was dressed in black. With his dark hair a little longer than usual, his dark complexion and sensual full lips, he looked like a pirate. A pirate dressed as an aristocrat.
As she approached him, his posture changed. He pulled his long legs towards himself and sat straight on his chair.
Not a pirate, she amended to herself. A panther, ready to attack his prey. She almost shivered at the unbidden reminder of the most exotic, dangerous cat that's ever passed her life. How could she have likened him to a panther, of all animals?!
"Coffee. Black," answered his deep, husky baritone.
"Thank you very much," she said smiling politely.
His eyes burned her back as she walked to the bar to get the order. She actually wanted to run away but the manager's eyes were surveying the room at the moment. Her co-worker Anthony who made coffee was smiling. "Let me guess. Coffee. Black. Right? Did we at least get a hello or something more today? Or just the usual silence?"
She didn't answer. She couldn't. She could still feel his eyes on her and she felt like on fire. Delicious fire.
"Oh... If I were in your place, love, I would have gotten a date by now. A god like him, coming to the shop every day just for me, sitting for hours with a coffee he never drinks... staring at me constantly... Hell, not just a date. He would already know how big my bed is!"
"Right. And next morning you would be found in some gutter with your throat cut like a chicken. As far as we know this guy could be the next Ted Bundy. He seems rich, he is good looking. What does he want with a waitress from a coffee shop at the edge of the city? It's not like I'm some model!" she told that as much to herself, of course. Because it was the truth.
"Honey... how many times have I told you? You are a piece of candy! With those red hair! If you'll just take care of yourself a little better! I mean... this dreadful ponytail. And no makeup!"
She straightened her wide black blouse and tight trousers, which was the shop's uniform. "I'm fine the way I am. Thank you very much!" Then she took the coffee and brought it to the man's table and got busy with other customers.
Or at least she tried. His eyes bore at her back every turn and every second. She got so nervous that she would take orders from customers twice, only to realize that she couldn't even understand what she had written in her notebook. The second time she had to go back to a table to ask them again because she couldn't remember and she did not write it down.
This was definitely not her. And the black high-heels she was wearing, obligatory rule of the management, were killing her legs.
Her boss had picked this day to come at the coffee shop and check things out. He was already giving her the look, because he had noticed her mistakes.
She got angry half an hour later. A tray with 4 coffee pots had slipped through her fingers onto the floor. She was cleaning the mess when the boss passed by her and said that the cost for the loss would be deducted from her salary. Darn, she would have to cut on food in order to pay the rent again!
As she was throwing part of her month's payment at the garbage, angry tears flooded her eyes. It was all his fault! That green-eyed pirate! Her mind filled with anger, she rushed straight to his table.
"Could you please stop staring at me?" she hissed at him. "What are you? Some kind of a pervert? Stop this now! Stop Staring at me. In fact, stop coming here! Go somewhere else to order coffee you don't drink anyway! You are not welcome here!"
She did not realize her voice has gone up until she noticed how quiet the coffee shop was. Horror-struck, she turned.
Everyone was staring at her and the man on the table.
And the man from the table stood up.
God, he was taller than I thought, she thought. Oh, why did I get angry again?
"I am terribly sorry, Miss Iliana," he said, not looking at her name tag. He already knew her name. His voice was soft, with no hint of anger. He smiled then. She lost her breath. The smile literally brought light to his face. "I never meant to make you nervous. On the contrary--"
"W-Who told you I was nervous?" she asked defensively.
Instead, he reached and softly held her hand with both of his. His touch, how her hand looked enclosed in his big ones, gave her a sudden feeling of security that confused her so much. How could she feel this with someone she barely even knew? But he gave her such a sweet and innocent look that she felt a smile tug on her lips. She managed to suppress it before it got obvious.
This was a very dangerous man. And not just physically dangerous.
He was a danger to every woman who could see and feel how virile he was.
And she has a feeling his virility was just the tip of what she was sensing from him.
Chapter Two
SUDDENLY, the voice of the manager filled the space. She jumped then pulled her hand from his to step away.
"Oh... Mr. Nickolas Benson! What an honor for us to have you in our coffee shop! A thousand apologies! My employee is unforgivable! She shouldn't have spoken to you this way. She will suffer the consequences of her actions immediately. I assure you, this type of behavior is not acceptable in our shop, especially towards a fine member of our business society as yourself!"
Her boss was now beside her, talking to the man, drawing his attention away from her. She noticed the man's smile turning in
to a wide, fake one. Although she was certain that ten minutes from now she would get fired, she wanted to see this. Seeing her boss kissing this man's butt was a show she wouldn't miss for the world.
"Please, Miss Iliana has done nothing reprehensible. The truth is that my approach was clumsy, to say the least and she is totally justified to think I am some kind of pervert. Especially since she obviously had no idea who I am. I would never, in any circumstance, wish this insignificant incident be the reason for her getting in any kind of trouble. That would be extremely unfair, don't you think, sir?"
The poor man looked confused, red, and blotchy. "Well... yes, of course... if you put it this way... and if you really think so. Obviously, it would..."
"Excellent! And now that this little subject is settled, could I please have Miss Iliana at my disposal for a few minutes? In private?"
"Why... certainly! Need you ask? For as long as you wish! Emm... I will serve the tables if necessary."
She only had time to give a surprised look at her boss, receive a warning from him, before Nickolas grabbed her hand to pull her out of the coffee shop.
The narrow road outside the shop was empty. He dragged her a little further away from the windows so they wouldn't be seen by curious eyes. He must have seen how that made her feel awkward. When he started talking, his voice was deeper, hoarse, sinful-and frank.
"I'm sorry I caused you trouble. That was not my intention. My name is Nickolas Benson and I am a businessman. I am certainly not a freak nor a psycho but ever since I saw you last week in that blasted business meeting at the coffee shop, I can't get you out of my mind. That's why I've been coming here every day. I should have asked you for what I want but I was worried of scaring you away. You evidently don't scare easily, though. So..." he sighed deeply. "Look how this turned out." He hasn't let go of her hand and was instead caressing her palm gently, creating chills all over her body. There was a moment when she felt like she was going to die if she pulled her hand from his. Because it felt so good, so right, for it to be there.
"I'll pick you up tonight? Please, Iliana. Give me a chance. Dinner, dancing, drinks... anything you want. I would be delighted to get to know you better and for you to get to know me better yourself."
She stepped backwards. her hand was pulled from his and she almost winced at the emptiness it left her.
That was ridiculous, but she couldn't explain it. She took a deep breath, regained her control. Only then did she dare to look at him. "What time?"
Then her eyes widened.
That was not what she had planned to say... but he was already smiling broadly, his eyes crinkling at the corners, his full lips looking sexy. She felt breathless.
And she decided that she could certainly say no next time. Couldn't she?
NICKOLAS TOOK a last look at his reflection on the mirror. His long, thick hair reached the back of his neck, swept back and neatly controlled by a comb. Sometimes, a woman would try to say he should cut it short after a romp in bed. But they did not really mean it.
Nor would he, if they actually did.
It was the one thing from the old days he insisted on keeping.
Black jeans and black casual shirt, both expensive brands, on a well worked-out body. Only the best for Nickolas Benson. A long way from old devil Nick DiAngelo with the old jeans, the filthy t-shirts and the over-worn leather black jacket.
If he had chosen to wear his usual expensive suits with the matching ties, he knew he wouldn't have gotten past the first date with Iliana. After a month of dating, she was more comfortable around him. At least she had stopped looking at an obscure spot right behind him every time she talked to him.
For a month now, he had been taking her to the hottest spots in the city. Theater, ballet, dancing clubs, restaurants. Almost every night, he would pick her up from outside her apartment and be the escort of her dreams. Kind, chivalrous, obliging. And every night, he would return her at home before twelve, see her safe inside her apartment. Untouched with the kind of touch he would die just to be able to do to her. But he would leave.
He hadn't kissed her once. That was not part of the plan. She had to feel completely safe before he entered phase two. And there was also this strong attraction between them. He couldn't kiss her and be able to stop.
And he couldn't do that. He has to follow the plan. He'd lived the better part of his life by planning well, brilliantly, meticulously. He wanted to take Iliana the same way. He could not allow the possibility of losing. Of losing... her.
Besides... tonight was the night. How could the be together in one place with noone around and not touch each other? It would be too tempting. He was afraid it would be, at least, for him.
The wait was over this night.
He just hoped that Iliana would be ready.
Chapter Three
"MEDIOCRE," murmured Iliana to herself.
Iliana was standing naked in front of her old closet's mirror. She was trying to find the thing that made Nickolas notice her a month ago. She has long, red hair she always kept controlled in heavy plaits or tight ponytails because it was wild and insanely curly. A very common pale face, with a big nose and big, puffed lips. Very light blue eyes that she always thought made her look like a blind person. A body that was very thin, but fit, since she was always working. A chest she could do without because she has breasts men like too much to look at, as if in them was the brain that made her talk. So she hid it in smaller and tighter bra cups and unshapely shirts.
He hadn't kissed her yet. The fact that every time they touched, even accidentally, she would want to rip his clothes off and kiss him all over his body was probably her own personal problem. He didn't seem to have the same urge.
So that was the dilemma, really. If he didn't feel what she felt, why was he taking her to those big, expensive dates? Iliana had never felt like this before, nor experienced anything like this before. And although her sexual experience was limited to just one lover a long time ago, she was not that ignorant to realize this was no ordinary thing.
Nor what was to happen later.
When he invited her to this date tonight, she felt something different. Like this night would be a milestone to them.
She didn't know why she knew or how that could happen.
She just knew.
And that's why her heart could not stop its incessant heavy thudding. He would be right outside in half an hour and she couldn't decide what to wear. Her options of course weren't many-nor controversial or extraordinary. The pieces of her wardrobe were six all and all.
If she was Nickolas, she would be embarrassed to take her out to anywhere.
And if I was a little less proud, I would be embarrassed to walk inside all these luxurious places, dressed in rags.
She smiled to herself.
But because she was who she was, she did it anyway.
Iliana would pass women in expensive dresses as if she was the queen of England, wishing internally that the floor would suck her in but externally showing nothing of the sort as Nickolas held her hand. He didn't seem to mind. He was one of those few men who would talk to her without looking down at her breasts, just steadily to her eyes as if she was saying intelligent things. It could sometimes make her feel insane, because she wanted him to look down for a moment so she could see what he was really thinking.
But he never did. So in control. That was Nickolas Brendon.
She finally picked a grey dress that ended under her knees and had a tall neck and long sleeves. It used to belong to her mother. She had worn it twice with Nickolas but it would have to do...
"TONIGHT, I will be offering you dinner at The Castle. I think it's about time you see my house, don't you?" he told her as they were driving away in his car.
She felt her body froze at the mention of his castle, and then burn in the next second. "The Castle? As that place with the capital 'C'?"
His lips twitched in amusement. "Yes. It's my home. It was named this way by a rotten paparazzi an
d in the end I got to like it, so I kept it. It was rather successful."
She knew about the history of the name but she didn't realize he owned it now. "Why?" How can a house named "The Castle" be successful?"
"You'll see".
They drove out of the city, on the road that led to the big hill. She was surprised because she thought there were no buildings in the old forest.
Just a little before they reached the peak of the hill, they turned to a small, narrow road that was hardly visible from the main road. They continued for about fifteen minutes more when suddenly, a huge metal double-door loomed on the powerful headlights. It looked heavy and thick and tall walls spread from both sides. On the top of these walls, Iliana could see reels of sharp barbed wire.