by Nalini Singh
He blew his breath deliberately across one wet nipple.
She shattered, and the pleasure was a tidal wave that demanded everything she had. When she finally resurfaced, Zach had recommenced his sensual exploration of her body, the dark strands of his hair sweeping over her like a thousand stroking fingers. She ran her hands through the rough silk of it, feeling sated and content. And happy.
He looked up, a lazy smile in his*eyes. "Yes?"
"Come kiss me." She'd never imagined she would one day make such a brazen demand, but Zach listened to her. Even if he didn't always give her what she wanted.
He shook his head. "After."
"After what?"
His answer was to keep on kissing her, going steadily lower. When his lips pressed over black lace, she trembled. He did it again. Then she felt the whisper of something on her outer thighs—glancing down, she saw her panties being thrown off the side of the bed. "How?"
The eyes that met hers were wild, exotic. "I used a claw to cut them off."
"Oh." She looked at his human hand. "Like a very small shift?"
"Hmm." He wasn't paying attention, more concerned with pushing apart her thighs and raising her legs to put them over his shoulders. She'd never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. She waited, stomach tight.
But nothing could've prepared her for the ecstasy of his touch. Zach liked to take his time—he pushed her to insanity over and over. It might've terrified her except that he made no effort to hide his own arousal, murmuring his pleasure with every slow lick. "Sweet, pretty, Annie," he said. "My Annie."
She discovered she was raising her body to his mouth, moving with a sensual bliss that was scandalous in its eroticism. He liked it. She knew, because he told her so, his voice close to a growl.
"I am definitely going to bite," he whispered. And then he did.
By the time she could think again, he was getting off the bed. She exhaled in pleasure as he stripped off to reveal a body hard with arousal.
"Look what you do to me," he whispered, moving to kneel between her legs. He stroked his hands under her thighs. "Come here."
She swallowed at what he was asking, knowing it had far more to do with trust than sex. But she couldn't refuse, had the strangest feeling that any hint of rejection from her would wound him incredibly deeply. Rising, she held on to his shoulders and let him support her bottom as her body brushed over the tip of his erection. "Zach," she whispered, drowning in the intimacy of his eyes, "you undo me."
His eyes flickered from cat back to human. "Hold on to me, baby. I won't let go."
Breath coming in jagged bursts, she lowered herself onto him. He stretched her to the limit. But she wanted him inside her, wanted to possess him as absolutely as he'd possessed her. She drove down and shuddered. "It's too much." The angle was deep, the penetration intense.
He kissed her. "We'll practice until you get used to it." It was a husky promise as he laid her back down, bracing his body over hers using his hands.
"How much practice?" She wrapped her legs around the lean beauty of his hips, no longer shy with this man who treated her as if she was a goddess.
He groaned, pulled out a little, then thrust, as if he couldn't help himself. "Lots." Though sweat-damp hair hung over his forehead, and sexual need was an inferno in his eyes, he waited to give her time to adjust.
She felt a violent tenderness grab hold of her heart. He was, quite simply, wonderful. Raising her arms, she pulled him down and kissed him, telling him without words that it was okay to let go.
He groaned. And began to move.
Annie looked down at the male sprawled by her side the next morning and felt -her body sigh. He was fast asleep and gilded dark gold by the sunlight sneaking in through the blinds. He'd kept her up half the night, loving her so thoroughly that she felt possessed. Taken. Branded.
Refusing to surrender to panic, to give him up to protect herself, she reached out to trace the tattoo she'd discovered on his back sometime during the night.
It linked to the one on his biceps, which was actually the stylized tail of a dragon. That dragon's front claws rested on his left shoulder, the mythical creature's sinuous body stretching across his back. It was a stunning design . . . and another example of the wildness in him.
That wildness brought her alive, made joy sear her blood.
It also frightened her—the depth of what she felt. Finally, she truly understood why her mother had stayed with her father all these years. Her mind filled with the echo of Kimberly's voice from a rainy night more than fifteen years ago.
Your father used to call me his heaven.
That time had passed long ago, as would Zach's interest in her. Yet even after the spark faded, Annie now knew that the temptation to stay . . . to hope for another moment when he might look at her as he once used to, would be overwhelming. It was that futile hope that kept her mother tied to her father, but, though she understood it, it wasn't a path Annie would ever allow herself to follow.
It would break her heart to see Zach look at her with disinterest in his eyes. She'd leave before that, at the first insidious signs of fading passion. It was bound to happen . . . but not yet, she prayed. Please not yet. Heart tight with a mixture of joy and pain, she lay down beside him, content to trail her fingertips over his tattoo and watch him sleep.
That was when she noticed his lips were curved.
"Zach." A whisper.
Cat eyes looking into hers. "Mmm?"
"How long have you been awake?"
Chapter 9
"Long enough to enjoy you petting me." unrepentant mischief in his eyes. And desire. The desire was still there. Relief made her melt from the inside out. "You're such a cat."
"Want to see?" he asked.
"See what?"
"My cat."
Her eyes went wide. "Really?"
He yawned, every inch the indolent feline. "Hmm." Without warning, color shimmered all around him, sparkles of light and shadow, beauty and eternity.
She held her breath until it ended. The leopard lying on her bed looked at her with familiar eyes. Swallowing at her proximity to such a dangerous creature, she struggled up into a sitting position, sheet held to her breasts. The temptation to touch was blinding. She lifted a hesitant hand—it was one thing to know intellectually that this was Zach, quite another to believe it.
When she didn't touch, the leopard raised its head to butt at her hand. Shuddering, she gave in to temptation and stroked him. He relaxed, closing his eyes in bliss. It made her awe morph into delight. "I think I just got conned." But stroking him, adoring him, was no hardship.
When the shimmer came again, she went utterly still. A few moments later, her hand lay on the muscular back of a man so sexy, he made her heart trip simply looking at him.
"So?" he asked.
She snuggled up to him, positioning her body so that they lay face-to-face, her hand now on his shoulder. "You're gorgeous, and you know that."
For once, he didn't smile. "Is it too much to handle?"
"No." She frowned. "Did I give that impression?"
"Just checking." She got a smile this time, a slow, lazy thing that tugged at things low and deep in her. "Some women like the idea of being with a changeling but find the reality harder to accept."
"Some women?" A prickly flare of jealousy.
His smile widened. "Not that I would know."
She felt her lips twitch. "Of course not, Mr. Innocent."
"Hey, you're the one who led me off the straight and narrow." He ran his hand down to her bottom in a possessive caress. "I seem to recall you demanding I do 'the licking thing' one more time."
Her body ignited to sensual life. Deciding to fight fire with fire, she said, "You never gave me my winnings yesterday."
Sensual mischief in his eyes. "Yes, I did. With interest. And then again."
"Cat." Wrapping her arms around him, she rubbed her nose affectionately against his. It felt natural, easy. He made a sound of contentment
and shifted until she was under him, skin-to-skin contact all over. It was sexual, but it was also something more. Touch for the sake of touch, cuddling because it felt good.
"How long does the affection last?" she asked half-seriously. Making love with him was so stunningly beautiful, but this kind of simple contact . . . it was somehow deeper, going beyond pleasure and into a kind of trust that left her breathless.
Zach kissed her cheek, her jaw, her chin. "Always. Not touching is abnormal for us."
She remembered the easy affection she'd witnessed at the picnic. "I'm guessing that doesn't apply to strangers."
"No."
"That's good," she said, swallowing an unexpected pulse of hurt at the idea of being outside the circle of his pack. If she'd been his mate— She cut off that thought at once, more than a little panicked at the idea of being locked into a relationship that offered no escape . . . no matter if the love died. "I'm not easy with people I don't know well," she said to cover the sudden burst of fear.
"You're in charge of skin privileges, baby." He traced circles on her shoulder. "The pack will pick up the cues."
" 'Skin privileges'?"
"The right to touch." He kissed the corner of her mouth.
She wondered if she'd ever-get enough of this play. "I guess you have total skin privileges then."
A sound of smug male pleasure. It made her laugh, he was so shameless about it. And that was when she knew. She was too much her mother's daughter. She'd love only once. And she'd love forever.
Zach was it.
For him, she'd break every rule, allow him into her home, into her very soul. For him, she'd jump into the abyss and worry about the bruises later. Because sometimes, there were no choices.
"Hey." His voice was a husky murmur. "What's the matter, Angel?"
She shook her head, glad that he wasn't Psy, that he couldn't read her mind. "Love me, Zach." "Always."
But she knew he hadn't understood what she'd asked, hadn't promised what she needed. It didn't matter. He was hers, if only for now, and she would treasure every moment of that joy. The pain could wait until after he was gone.
Chapter 10
A month after he'd first met Annie, Zach sat on one of the car-sized boulders scattered around Yosemite and wondered what the hell he was doing wrong. He'd spent every night since the day of the picnic with her. She was fire in his arms, warm, beautiful, and loving . . . but she continued to withhold a part of herself.
Most men wouldn't have noticed. But he wasn't most men. Every time she waved off his offer to help her in some way, every time she pulled her independence around her like a shield, he noticed. It wounded the cat, confused the man. "Mercy, I can hear you."
A tall redhead jumped down from a branch a few feet in front of him. "Only because I let you."
He snorted. "You were making enough noise for a herd of elephants." He threw the sentinel a spare bottle of water.
"I didn't want to bruise your masculine ego by sneaking up," Mercy said, perching on a boulder opposite him. "Not when you already looked so pathetic."
"Gee, so thoughtful of you."
"I can be a right peach." She drank some water. "Let me guess— you've mated with the little teacher?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, puhleese," Mercy drawled. "As if you'd bring anyone but your mate to the Pack Circle."
"She's fighting the bond," he found himself saying. "Why?"
"You're the female. You tell me."
"Hmm." Mercy capped the bottle and tapped it against her leg. "Did she say why?" He stared at her.
Mercy rolled her eyes. "You did tell her that she's your mate, didn't you?"
"She's a bit resistant to the idea of commitment." That resistance frustrated the hell out of him, but he was trying to be patient. Not only did he care about her happiness, he wanted her to trust him enough to make the choice—even though there was only one answer he'd accept. "I don't think she'd react well to the whole 'till death really does us part' bit."
"So you're making the choice for her?" She raised an eyebrow. "Arrogant."
Anger flared. "I want to give her time to become comfortable with me."
"Is it working?"
"I thought so, but the bond hasn't snapped into being." The mating bond was an instinctive thing, but the female usually had to accept it in some way for it to go from possibility to truth. "It's tearing me up, Mercy." The leopard was lost, hurt. What was wrong with him that Annie didn't want him?
"Talk to her, you idiot." Mercy shook her head. "Has it crossed your little male mind that maybe she's protecting herself in case you decide to indulge in some hot sex, then flick her off?"
He growled. "She knows I'd never do that. It's about the commitment—she's scared of trusting someone with her heart." He couldn't blame her, not after what he'd seen of her parents' marriage.
"Correct me if I'm wrong," Mercy said, "but haven't you two been joined at the hip for the past month? Pack grapevine says you've all but moved into her place."
"Yeah,so?"
"Geez, Zach, I thought you were smart." Trapping the bottle between her knees, she raised her hands to redo her ponytail. "Sounds to me like she's already committed to you."
She'd given him a key to her apartment, to the place that was her bolt-hole. His heart slammed against his ribs. No, he thought, he couldn't have made that big a mistake. "But the bond—"
"Okay," Mercy interrupted. "Maybe you're right, and your Annie's going to freak about the mating, but let's say your amazing Psy mind-reading abilities are- wrong—"
He growled.
"—and she's ready to risk everything for you. What would keep her from taking the final step?" She raised an eyebrow. "You know the rep we have. Humans tend to think of leopard changelings as affectionate but casual."
"That's not it," he insisted. "I told her this was serious right at the start."
"Let me share a secret with you, Zach. Men have been telling women things for centuries. Then they've been breaking our hearts."
Zach's mind filled with the memory of Kimberly Kildaire's shattered face as Erik Kildaire walked away. Promises, he thought, lots and lots of broken promises.
"Only way," Mercy continued, "for you to gain her trust, might be to forget the pride that seems to come embedded in the Y chromosome. You ready to wear your heart on your sleeve and hope she doesn't crush the life out of it?"
He met her gaze. "You got a streak of mean in you, Mercy."
"Thank you very much." Finishing off the water, she threw him the bottle. "I'd better head off—have to meet Lucas."
He watched her climb back up into the trees, her words beating at him. Had he really been that much of an idiot, thinking he knew what was going on in Annie's head while being so very wrong? More importantly, was he willing to swallow his need for dominance, for control, and put the most important decision of his life into her hands? What if she rejected him? The pain of the thought was paralyzing.
Annie finished putting away her things with eager hands. It was five on Friday, which meant she had the entire weekend to spend with Zach. He'd promised to show her some of the secret treasures of his forest, and she couldn't wait. Of course, she thought with a smile, even if he'd told her he wanted to watch the entertainment network all weekend, she'd have had the same reaction. She flat out adored being with him, wicked teasing and all. Especially since she'd gotten pretty good at teasing him back.
"Hey, Teach."
"Zach!" She walked over to hug him. "What're you doing here?"
His expression was solemn. "I need to talk to you."
Her stomach knotted. "Oh." She stepped back, trying to appear calm.
"Mercy was right," he said.
Annie knew who Mercy was, having met the sentinel at the picnic. "About what?"
"You're waiting for me to leave you."
The world fell out from under her feet. She trembled, unable to move, as he closed the door and walked to her. "I will never leave you, Annie." Cupping her ch
eeks in his hands, he bent so his forehead pressed against hers. "Not unless you ask me to." He frowned. "Actually, I won't leave you then, either. Just so you know."
"Wh-what?"
"You're my mate," he said simply. "You're in my blood, in my heart, in my soul. To walk away from you would cut me to pieces."
The room spun around her. "I need to sit down." He let her go, let her lean against her desk.
"Mate?" she whispered.
"Yes." His face grew bleak. "It's a lifetime commitment. Mercy was right about one thing, but I'm right about this—you're not too keen on that, are you?"
She didn't answer his question, her mind spinning. "Are you sure that I'm . . . ?"
"Baby, I was sure the first day we met. You fit me."
It brought tears to her ears, because he fit her, too. Perfectly. "Zach, I . . ." She blinked, trying to think past the rushing thunder of emotion. "I never thought I'd marry," she admitted. "But it's not the commitment I have a problem with. It's what comes after." A confession made in a voice that threatened to break. "It's this cold terror that the promise, the love, will one day turn into a trap."
"I know."
"She still waits," Annie found herself saying. "For a Valentine, or a birthday present, or just a loving word. She still waits."
"Oh, sweetheart." He tried to come closer, but she held up her hand, fighting to think, to understand.
"I could survive you leaving me," she said, "but I couldn't survive you stopping to 'see' me." And the mating bond would leave her with no way out. It truly was forever.
"That's something you never have to fear," Zach said, the declaration resolute. "It's not possible for mates to ignore each other."
"But . . ."
"No buts," he said, slashing out a hand. "I will never stop seeing you, never stop loving you. Mates can't shut each other out."