by Kyle, Celia
Damn, his cock was hard. He’d gotten used to it in the past week, falling asleep and then waking with an erection to end all erections. All because of the curvaceous woman on the other side of the door. He wondered if she was in similar shape, her body craving him as he craved her.
Maybe someday soon he’d find out.
Harding listened to the soft rustles of fabric and imagined her stripping her clothes from her body, peeling away layers to reveal silken skin. The squeak of the mattress reached him and he easily pictured the scene in his mind: Tess sliding beneath the sheets and settling on the soft surface. In his fantasies, she’d been in his bed. With him. They’d cuddle close and with or without sex, he’d fall asleep with her in his arms.
He’d be one lucky lion.
Maybe it was good that she held off. He had been gung-ho and ready to mate from the first sniff, but if they’d taken the leap weeks ago, he never would have learned all he had about his mate.
He also wouldn’t have learned that his past was nothing. It was a blip on his life’s radar. He’d suffered, true, but it paled when compared to Tess’s experiences. Yes, his family had turned on him, but he’d found a new one in Ridgeville, hadn’t he? Tess had never had the security of caring relatives, related by blood or not. Well, he was fixing that, giving her his family, bringing her into the fold, and working to show her what love should be about.
Love.
He’d said the three little words, uttered them without hesitation and then not given her a chance to analyze them to death. His Tess tended to grab onto a thought and wring the thing until there was nothing left.
Was that what was she doing now? Poking and prodding at three little words?
Probably.
Harding pushed away from the door and eased back until he hit the opposite wall. He slid down the hard surface and sat on the ground, unwilling to leave her yet.
Damn, hadn’t this become a pitiful habit? Every night since her return he’d done the same, sitting outside her door until he was too tired to remain, just so he’d have a few more minutes of being close to her. His cat was in a twenty-four-seven full on rage. The lion didn’t paw and scratch at his mental walls, it tore and gored them.
It wanted out.
Harding wanted it to stay put. Patience. He’d repeated the word to his lion over and over again, but it didn’t do a damned bit of good.
He sighed and let his head rest against the wall, eyes fluttering closed as he simply listened to the sound of her breathing. It was deep and rhythmic, lulling him toward peace. Regardless of the cat’s demands, he was calmer simply being near her. Nothing compared to this closeness.
The mattress creaked, his mate getting more comfortable. He could help her with that. Another creak and rustle of fabric. She really was unsettled by Millie’s visit, and part of him ached to race into her room and comfort her. But he wouldn’t.
This time the rustle of cotton came with a flutter of movement and the soft, rapid steps of his mate racing to the bedroom door. She flung it open, and the waning sunlight shining through the windows cast her in shades of golden cream.
Dressed in only a long T-shirt that clung to her curves, she was a vision of seduction, her body calling to his lion like catnip.
“What are you doing out here?” Tess narrowed her eyes.
Rather than rising, he simply stared, drinking in her appearance. She’d make him leave soon, and he probably wouldn’t ever get to do this again now that she’d caught him. So, he looked his fill and demanded that his cat be patient.
“I…” What could he say? I’m stalking you. I want to be close to you. I love you. All of the above. “I…” God, he couldn’t get a word out, the vision she presented was too much to allow him to breathe, let alone speak.
Tess stepped into the hall and dropped to her knees beside him. She grabbed his hand and twined their fingers together and spoke without speaking. She hadn’t done this since Ben’s final attack, hadn’t initiated any sort of telepathic contact with anyone other than Maddy as far as he knew. But now, she was doing it with him.
Feelings and emotions flowed to him, sliding beneath his skin as if they’d always belonged inside him. In a way, they always had. She was his mate, his love, his forever.
Forever? Her mental voice was timid, unsure.
Harding was quick to reassure her. Of course. You’re my mate. I will never turn my back on you, Tess. You’ll be by my side. Always.
But after Ben… You were so angry, Harding, and…
He cursed his own stupidity and blindness. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. I couldn’t help being angry. I won’t pretend that I understood everything in that moment. We’ll argue and make mistakes and you’ll probably growl at me a lot once you’re Changed. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you or love you, Tess. Never doubt my feelings.
Harding poured every ounce of emotion he had behind his words, praying that she believed him. Nothing mattered beyond her. Not his past or hers, not their fears or worries about the future. Nothing.
Shining tears formed in her eyes, the moisture increasing until two tears trailed over her cheeks. He brushed one then the other away with his free hand.
“Sweet, don’t cry.” His voice was hoarse with his own tears fighting to manifest.
Tess sniffled and leaned into his touch, nuzzling his palm as if she were already a cat scenting her mate. She must have caught his thought because she stiffened, eyes intent on him. “What if I’m not a cat? What if I’m a polar bear like Alistair?”
Harding grinned. “Then we’ll have kittens and cubs to love.” He used their entwined fingers to tug her closer. “And we’ll love them so much, sweet. Nothing will make us turn our backs on them. Nothing will tear them from our arms, and our pride will adopt them as their own. We have a family here, Tess. You just need to open your heart a tiny bit, and you’ll see it, too.”
Tess’s expression changed, shifting from happy to sad to worried, and then to a deep resolve. He sensed her growing love for him, the feeling giving him hope, along with a hint of apprehension that lingered near. She took a deep breath and released it slowly. She pushed to her feet, not releasing his hand, and she tugged on him, urging him to stand.
Harding went easily, wondering what his mate had suddenly decided. He refused to let a kernel of hope grow in his heart. They’d been taking things excruciatingly slow, and he didn’t want to entertain the idea that their relationship was about to take a flying leap forward.
Only, with her next few words, he realized he should have let that hope blossom into full-blown joy.
“I think it’s time to mate, Harding. I want to learn to love you and I want kittens and cubs and…” Two more tears trailed over her cheeks. “And I want a family who will love us all.”
47
“There is nothing better than awesome sex. Actually, there is: Awesome sex twice.” — Maya O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride and awesome sex addict.
Tess had either made the biggest mistake of her life, or the most wondrous decision of her twenty-six years and on to forever.
At Harding’s wide smile and sudden, crushing embrace, it hit her that her choice had been the right one. His hands roamed her back, palms sliding along her spine, teasing the top of her ass, and then returning to her shoulders. He gripped her upper arms and put a tiny bit of space between them. She raised her gaze to clash with his.
“Are you sure, Tess? We can wait.”
Oh, he didn’t want to wait. She could read it in every line of suppressed need in his body and the thrumming arousal that emanated from him in waves. Harding wanted her—desperately—and she realized they were on the same page.
Already her body prepared for him, her pussy aching and heavy with need and growing damper by the second. Even her human nose caught the scent of her arousal, her desire permeating the air around them.
She put every ounce of sincerity, want, and need she possessed into her response. “I don’t want t
o wait. I want to be yours, Harding. Right or wrong, good or bad, I want to be yours.”
Their focus remained intent for one heartbeat and then another before Harding grasped her hand and lead her further down the hallway.
To his den.
His rapid pace didn’t allow her to become nervous, didn’t let a hint of worry sneak into her veins and stall their progress. Before she knew it, they stood within the master bedroom, surrounded by muted, masculine colors and massive hardwood furniture. It was a man’s room. Her man’s room.
Soon to be theirs.
Her soon-to-be mate turned to her, hands hovering over her shoulders, and she saw a hint of trepidation within him. “Tess…” He released a barking, mirthless laugh. “I don’t know where to start.”
She gave him a rueful smile. “I’ve never done this before, so I’m sure you know more than I do.”
“Never…” Shock covered his features.
She shook her head. “No. I was never,” she turned her head to stare at the wall and blinked back her tears. She had never and yet so, so many had. “I was never raped, and I never trusted anyone enough to let them into my bed.”
With a growl, he was on her, turning her head and sealing his mouth to hers, tongue invading her.
Tess wound her arms around his neck and wiggled nearer, fighting to be as close to Harding as possible. She needed to be on him, in him, wrapped in his arms, and she never wanted him to let go.
Their tongues twined, dancing and tasting each other as their passion grew. This was what she’d been waiting for all these years. It was more than desire and animalistic need. She sensed love in every shift of his muscles, every stroke of his tongue over hers, and every moan that slid past his lips.
Those massive, gentle hands traveled over her T-shirt clad body, skimming her sides, tracing her hips, and then on to the hem of her covering.
This was it. It was time. She wanted him, wanted to love and be loved by him, yet she wondered if he’d be disgusted by what he saw.
He gripped the cotton and slid it higher, soft fabric skimming her skin, and a hint of his claws teased her flesh. The cat had come out to play.
In slow increments, more of her body was exposed to the cool air of the room, and goose bumps coated her skin. When the T-shirt got to her chest, she unwound her arms and held them above her while Harding eased from their kiss. In a blink, the top was removed and tossed aside, leaving her in nothing but her lace panties. Her large breasts were bared to his gaze, the slight dip of her waist and curve of her stomach no longer hidden. This was her, Tess Boyd, in all her near-naked glory.
“You’re so beautiful.” He growled, the planes of his face sharpening and a hint of his fangs peering out from beneath his lips. “And mine.”
Tess opened her mouth to say…something. Except all she got out was a high-pitched squeak when she suddenly went air born and flopped onto the bed in a bouncing heap. Immediately, he followed her down, sliding into place beside her and tugging her close.
There was something wicked about being nearly nude while he was fully clothed. The rough texture of his jeans scratched against her bare thighs, the worn fabric of his T-shirt skimming her nipples.
Her hardened nipples.
She shuddered when the soft cotton brushed against the nubs, the incidental stimulation sending her arousal even higher. She wanted him. She had no idea what to actually do with him, but she wanted him nonetheless.
“I’m going to love you.” The words were roughened by his beast.
“I know.” Tess cupped his cheek, enjoying the silken feel of his fur against her skin.
“You have to tell me if I scare you.”
“I will.” She nodded to assure him and pulled his face toward her. She wanted another kiss, another connection. And she got it.
This time the kiss was gentle, coaxing and sweet, yet no less passionate. Their tongues stroked while he petted her arms, traced her body with gentle hands and explored her. The touch was sweet, soothing and arousing at the same time. He squeezed her hip, fingers curling around to tease the edge of her panties, and she shivered. His hand was so close to there and she wanted him to touch her there.
Tess eased closer, trying to reposition her body so that his fingers ventured a little further along the curve of her ass. Only…only that move pressed her hips to his, Harding’s hardened thickness easily evident behind the confines of his jeans. Her mate moaned and rocked his hips and she couldn’t help but mimic the movement.
He wanted her. Her. Tess Boyd, kinda-daughter of Alistair McCain, and maybe homicidal psycho.
She sucked on his tongue and eased even closer, tossing her thigh over his leg as she fought to press as much of her skin against him as she could. Then his length was nudging her there, hard, long, and thick, and the heat of his hard-on seared her through the cloth separating them. She imagined holding him in her hand, stroking him, kissing and licking him and…
“Gods, Tess.” Harding moaned and rocked his hips, sliding along her needy pussy. She knew of arousal, of need and the necessity of slaking her desire. Sometimes it took a few flicks of her fingers against her clit and that was the end of that. But what she felt for this man, this lion, was so far beyond her past need that it was laughable.
Tess nipped his lower lip and enjoyed the fact that she was the one to make the massive lion growl, snarl, and shudder with need.
She repeated her earlier motions, shifting and sliding her wet, panty-clad pussy along his cock. “Harding.”
“Damn it.” He pressed their foreheads together, keeping his lips just out of reach. “I need to calm down or I’ll fuck this up.” He took a deep breath and his scent surrounded her when he exhaled. Harding opened his nearly white eyes, and his voice was closer to normal when he spoke. “Let me make you feel good. Need my mate to come on my tongue. Need to make you scream my name.”
She had one answer, her worry floating away with every shift of their bodies against one another: “Yes.”
Harding went into action, urging her to her back as he hovered above her. She lifted her head toward him, anxious for another meeting of their mouths, but he evaded her. Instead of smoldering kisses to her lips, he rained them on her body. First one to her jaw, then another to the bone-melting spot beneath her ear. Yet another dropped on her collarbone, and then they became even more overwhelming.
Harding captured her nipple with his lips, sucking on the nub and flicking it with his tongue. Oh, God, she’d never felt anything so good. She arched into him, searching out more of the pleasure he created. While his mouth was busy with one breast, his hand was quickly becoming acquainted with the other. He kneaded and squeezed the sensitive mound, each caress stoking her arousal.
She needed. Damn, but she needed.
Her pussy was soaked and desperate, clenching and tightening with every pull on her nipple. Pleasure raced through her, bouncing between her breast and her pussy and back again. She trembled and moaned, shifting and squirming with his every move until she didn’t think she could stand any more.
“Harding!”
Harding released her nipple with a chuckle and blew on the moistened nub. “Yes, sweet?”
“I… I don’t…”
His hand left her breast and skimmed down her body, sliding over the gentle roundness of her stomach and finally stopping at the juncture of her thighs. He cupped her pussy, hand pressing against the wet fabric. “Do you need something here, sweet?” He ground the heel of his hand against her mound, the increased pressure sending frissons of pleasure dancing through her. “Tell me what you need, mate.”
She didn’t have the words. Or rather she did, but she didn’t know how to force them past her lips. “Harding…”
Harding’s weight left her, his massive body no longer touching hers. Opening her eyes, she watched him rise to his knees and move down the bed to settle between her thighs.
Good Lord, how had she been so lucky to catch this man? He was a study in hard planes, bulging m
uscles, and alluring wickedness and now he was going to…
He reached for her, hooking his fingers beneath the waist of her panties, and tugged them down an inch. He looked to her with a single brow raised. “Okay?”
“Yes. Please.” He’d touch her or stroke her or something… She had no doubt that he’d be a giving lover, and she couldn’t wait to come beneath his hands.
The bit of lace slid past her hips and over her thighs, caressing her sensitized skin during its journey until it was finally drawn past her toes.
“Oh, sweet mate.” The words were a growl from his lion rather than his man.
Tess blushed, heat filling her cheeks, and she brought her knees together while placing her forearm across her breasts. It’d been different when caught up in their passion, but now he was staring.
“Oh, no, Tess. Don’t ever hide from me.” His brow and cheeks were covered in cream-colored fur. He snared her wrist and tugged her arm from her chest, forcing her to expose herself once again. He moved his attention to her thighs, sliding them apart, and now nothing was hidden from his gaze.
“Oh, sweet.” He licked his lips. “Just a taste, sweet. Just a taste of my mate.”
And that’s what he did.
Harding repositioned himself between her spread thighs, shifting and lying on his stomach, his mouth hovering over her aching mound. It’d take one touch, one lick, hell, one breath, to send her flying over the edge.
He nuzzled her inner thigh, rubbing his silken fur along her sensitive skin. “You smell s’good. Want.” He growled and flicked the seam of her pussy lips with his tongue.
Tess gasped and then moaned when he repeated the caress.
“Mmm…” Harding hummed, and again he tasted her, tongue dancing over her cream-slick labia. “S’good.”
Her clit thumped in time with her heartbeat, throbbing and silently begging to be touched. “Please, Harding. L-L-Lick me.”
There, she’d pushed the words past her lips.
He growled and pounced on her heat. He separated her sex lips with his fingers and delved into her pussy. He went from teasing caresses to all-out war, his tongue and teeth assaulting her with immeasurable pleasure. She spread her thighs further apart, opening and welcoming him. She wanted everything he could give her and then some.