Panther Magic

by Doris O'Connor

  “Girl, stop. Look at me.”

  Much to his relief his tactics worked. A shudder went through her frame, and her body sagged against him, as her gaze connected with his.

  “That’s my good girl. I’ve got you. You’re safe. We’re going to open the door, and get you inside, and then we’ll run you a bath to warm you up. You’re frozen. Give me your key.”

  Kate ran her tongue over her lips, and frowned when she encountered the crusted up blood there. His panther growled anew at the all too visible reminder of what she had just endured. The bastards had split her lip, and fingerprint bruises were forming on her neck where one of the assholes had held her down. He couldn’t stop his panther’s deep growls. They shook the floorboards, and Kate’s eyes widened in fear. She didn’t pull away, however. Instead she leant in closer, inhaled deeply, and then fumbled for her key. It took her several attempts to open the door, and when she finally managed it, she darted through as though the hounds of hell were after her. The door at the far end of the hall way slammed shut and locked, and seconds later he heard the desperate sounds of her retching. Arran sighed and closing the front door after him, stepped inside her cozy flat. It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter Five

  Kate wasn’t sure she would ever stop retching. Everything hurt, and the stench of blood was everywhere. Hers, the guys that Zeb had killed, Zach’s, and if she closed her eyes all she could see was the glowing eyes of Zeb’s panther, as he’d ripped her attackers to shreds as though they were merely ragdolls. Not that she felt an ounce of remorse at their deaths. She could still hear them cheering when they’d wrestled her to the ground. Their evil laughter when they’d ripped her blouse, their rough hands on her breasts, her throat, the hands forcing her legs apart, and the foul smell of their alcohol laced breaths, as one of them forced his tongue down her throat.

  It made her gag anew, and she stumbled to her feet, suddenly desperate to get the soiled clothing off her. Her trembling fingers would not cooperate, and she breathed a sigh of relief, when the dodgy lock on her bathroom gave way, and Arran burst in.

  He was behind her in a heartbeat, his incredible warmth enclosing her in a comforting cocoon, and she started to cry again.

  “There, I’ve got you, baby. It’s okay. You just let it all out.”

  Kate shook her head, and when she tried to pull her clothing off, his large hands stopped her.

  “No, I need to … please, it’s all dirty. I can’t … please.” Kate didn’t even know what she was pleading for, but Arran seemed to know. Wordlessly he bundled her up in his arms, and seconds later the soothing warm spray of her power shower washed away her tears. Arran got in with her, clothes and all, and within seconds they were both sopping wet.

  Kate tried to push him away, but he was having none of it. Instead he grasped her chin, and she lost herself in the sheer intensity of his gaze.

  “Let me do this for you, okay? I’m going to take these clothes off you, and wash you down. I promise that’s all I’ll do. Is that all right?” The concern in his deep tones, and the affectionate way in which he held her, meant she would have done anything for him at this point.

  “Yes, Sir,” she murmured, the title slipping from her lips as easily as the next breath, and his eyes lit up in approval.

  “That’s my girl. Turn around for me.” He murmured the words, and Kate dutifully turned to face the wall, while Arran made short work of divesting her of her sodden clothes. By the time he lifted her legs one by one to get rid of her trousers and panties Kate was all too aware of him. He sucked in a sharp breath when she turned around, and she gasped when he stood back up again, and ran his hands lightly over her abdomen. Even that action hurt, and when Kate looked down she, too, gasped at the purple bruises forming on her skin.

  “Oh, baby, I could kill those bastards all over again for doing this to you.” He traced the outline of the worst of her bruises with his fingertips, and turning her to and fro inspected her body for more injuries. His face set in a grim line when he traced the gash on her collarbone, caused by one of her assailant’s knives. It had stopped bleeding, but she couldn’t help her flinch of pain, and Arran growled low in his throat.

  Despite the situation they were in, or maybe because of it, her body reacted instantly to that sound. Her nipples beaded, and her internal muscles clenched in desperate need, and she grew wet for him. Arran’s nostrils flared, and he inhaled sharply as though he could smell her arousal, and perhaps he could. She wasn’t at all surprised to be looking into the eyes of his panther when she sought his gaze. Considering what she had witnessed earlier that should terrify her, but it had the opposite effect on her.

  She wanted him with a need bordering on desperation, and she tugged at his shirt with clumsy fingers. Soaked through as it was it clung to his muscular body, clearly outlining every well-defined muscle, and she wanted, no needed, to trace those ridges and valleys with her tongue. Arran’s muscles flexed under her questing fingers when she finally managed to tug the damn shirt out of her way, and his panther purred his approval. The deep sound spurred her on, and she groaned under her breath when the blasted fabric wouldn’t cooperate further. Going on tiptoes she tried to yank the material over his head, and Arran chuckled as his head got stuck.

  “Here, let me.” With a few deft movements, he’d pulled the shirt off, and Kate let her eyes wander over his pectorals. Everything inside her clenched in need, when she followed the light dusting of hair that narrowed into an enticing happy trail, pointing down to the hard ridge straining against his jeans. God, he looked huge, and her mouth watered with the need to taste him. When she grasped the button of his jeans his hands closed over hers and stopped her.

  Kate moaned and looked up at him.

  “Please, Sir, let me…” She couldn’t help her pout when he shook his head, and he flashed her a crooked smile.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to, baby, but after what—”

  “No, please.” His eyes widened when Kate interrupted him. “Please, I don’t want to talk about that. I just want to forget. Please, Sir, make me forget them.” Her voice broke on the last few words, and she was blinking away hot tears again, dimly aware of Arran pulling her in for a hug. His erection dug into her belly, and she rubbed herself against him. The friction and slight pain caused by the coarse denim against her tender flesh pitched her arousal higher, and she moaned when he slapped her ass lightly. He left his hand there. Heavy and hot it branded her, while he trailed his other hand up between their bodies until he could cup her chin. He ran his thumb lightly over her swollen lips, and his jaw tensed when she flinched.

  “Does that hurt, my sweet?” he asked.

  “Not much, Sir.” She whispered her answer, and he smiled.

  “Good.” That was all the warning she got, before his lips claimed hers. Gentle tentative strokes along her bruised skin at first and when she opened to him on a groan, his tongue swept past her lips. He deepened the kiss in seconds, taking charge of her mouth in the same way he took command of her wrists. Pinning them high above her head, he held her in place, as he crowded her against the tiled wall, while his tongue fucked her mouth like she desperately wanted him to fuck her. More of her feminine arousal trickled past her pussy lips, and breaking the kiss with a grunt, he shut off the water and curled her fingers round the shower head holder.

  “Don’t let go, sweet, or this all stops.”

  He flicked a glance at her and smiled at her whispered, “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good girl, now open your legs wider and let me see my pussy.” When she complied immediately, he grinned and dropped to his knees in front of her. All coherent thought fled her brain when he used his thumbs to spread her inner lips and then blew across her clit. The little bundle of nerves contracted, sending waves of pleasure through her system, and Kate threw her head back and moaned. Oh, God that felt way too good, and he’d barely touched her.

  “So wet for me already, sweet girl. I shall have to reward that,
won’t I?”

  Kate whimpered at the first stroke of his rough tongue against her sensitive folds and she could feel his smile in the kisses he trailed up and down her inner thighs. When he took one of her legs and flung it over his shoulder, she grasped the showerhead in a death grip, as he licked up and down her slit. Tingles of need erupted under his talented tongue, and the deep vibrations of his murmured appreciation of her gushing for him, added another layer to the sensation overload he subjected her to.

  Arran continued to lick, tease, bite, and nibble up and down her slit, lapping at her juices like a man starved of sustenance, and her arousal built in ever tighter circles of need. When he tunneled his tongue into her pussy hole, while gently pushing his thumb against her anus, Kate jerked her hips against him.

  “Hmm, soon, I’ll take you here.” He murmured the words into her belly as he trailed his lips higher, his fingers replacing his tongue between her legs. Her thigh slipped off his shoulder, and Kate screamed when he reached her breasts and bit down on one hard nipple while rolling the other between the thumb and forefinger of his free hand.

  “Yes, you like this, don’t you, baby? If I do this,” he pulled hard on one nipple, while biting down on the other, and shards of sweet pain shot straight to Kate’s desperately clenching clit, “you gush beautifully for me. I bet you could come just by me doing this, couldn’t you?”

  Kate nodded, while pushing herself shamelessly against the magic fingers between her thighs.

  “Please, yes, God … please, don’t stop. I’m so close, I’m oohh…”

  The rest of whatever sounds she was making turned into a long drawn out moan when he released her breasts and kissed her with a desperate urgency that matched her own. When he pumped his fingers in and out of her pussy, and curled them up in such a way that he hit her sweet spot, Kate hovered on the painful edge of impending orgasm, and her hips went crazy.

  Arran tore his lips from hers.

  “Fly for me, sweet girl. Let go.” The grunted words into her neck were all the encouragement she needed for Kate to tumble head first into her release. She moaned her denial when he withdrew his fingers, and opened her eyes to find him looking down at her. Through the hazy steam still permeating the air in her shower unit the soft glow of his panther’s eyes registered, and she whimpered anew when his canines lengthened. She was dimly aware of the snap of foil and Arran fumbling with what she presumed was a condom before he grasped her leg and then the broad, sheathed tip of his cock breached her pussy hole. He must have had one stashed in the pocket of his jeans, because she knew she didn’t keep any in her shower.

  Kate panted her need as he pushed in slowly, all the while holding her gaze with his. The intensity of his eyes meant she couldn’t look away, mesmerized by the way they bled from the deep molten chocolate of the man to the soft amber of his beast and back again. She ought to be terrified, but as her body adjusted and welcomed the steady invasion of his cock into her channel, all she felt was a sense of peace and rightness. This, right here, this overwhelming feeling of connection was all that mattered, and when Arran finally bottomed out inside of her, they both groaned in unison. Her vaginal muscles clenched and released around him as her orgasm flared anew, and Arran started to move. Every thrust into her made her release burn hotter, and Kate whimpered and moaned as trembles shook her body. It seemed to be what Arran had been waiting for, because he thrust harder, deeper, until she felt utterly owned by him. When he buried one hand in her hair and tilted her head sideways, a silent question in his fascinating eyes, Kate moaned her reply.

  “Yes, please. Make me yours. I want to…”

  The pain of his bite took her breath away, only to be replaced by pleasure so intense she screamed. The force of her orgasm meant she let go of her anchoring above, and they collapsed on the floor as Arran grew bigger inside of her and then tensed. With one last long thrust upward, he snarled his own release, and the jerky movements of his cock emptying himself into the condom triggered another orgasm for Kate. Smaller than the previous ones, it nonetheless made her go limp. Utterly spent and sated, Kate simply relaxed into Arran’s incredible warmth. She was dimly aware of his licking his bite, and winced when he pulled out of her, and then urged her to stand with one hard arm around her waist. The shower came on briefly, washing away the evidence of their coupling, and Kate sighed when Arran washed her down. The comforting fluffy feel of her bathrobe was next, and then the world tilted again. Kate closed her eyes, and when Arran deposited her on what had to be her bed, she blindly made a grab for him.

  “Don’t leave,” she murmured, and Arran kissed her with so much tenderness it brought tears to her eyes.

  “Never, my sweet. You’re mine now.”

  ****

  Arran waited until Kate’s even breathing told him she was fast asleep, before he moved off the bed. He wanted nothing more than to curl up next to her, drink in her scent, and reassure his panther that she was indeed safe. He trailed his fingers over his mating bite, and Kate stirred and arched into his touch. It soothed his troubled mind somewhat, and he loved the fact that she now carried his mark and his scent. She’d seemed with him in the moment, but he couldn’t help but wonder what she’d make of all this when she was awake, and not shell-shocked by what had happened to her. Or almost happened to her. His panther snarled in anger at the thought of how much worse it could have been—for her, anyway.

  Zeb was in deep shit. Arran could sense his brother’s shimmering anger and his distress at being confined. Not that Arran could do anything about that right now. He could no more leave Kate than he could stop breathing. After one long last look at sleeping beauty in her bed, Arran padded back into the bathroom. Their clothes were a soggy mess on the bottom of the shower unit, and he grimaced at the bloodstains on Kate’s torn blouse. They would only be fit for the bin, but mindful of the fact that the council might want them for evidence, he wrung them out, and left them there.

  Having wrung out his own clothing and scowled at his sodden and now completely useless phone, he went in search of Kate’s dryer. He found it in the tiny annex next to her kitchen, and shoved his clothes into the machine. He would need them in the morning after all, or sooner, if the council came for him, too. The fact that they hadn’t already worried him a great deal. What exactly had Zeb told them? Zeb was the hothead, but being the grand total of five minutes older than Arran he had also always assumed the role of Arran’s protector. So he wouldn’t put it past his brother to take all the blame for the bloodbath they’d left behind on his own shoulders.

  Arran was halfway through a much needed cup of coffee, when the pounding on Kate’s front door confirmed his worst fears. With his clothes still drying, he grabbed the first thing he could find to cover up, which happened to be a frilly pink apron hanging on the back of the kitchen door. Arran made a face when he pulled it on, but at least it covered the essentials, as long as he didn’t show anyone his ass.

  Not that the enraged bear shifter he sensed at the entrance would care about his state of undress, but he didn’t want to shock any of Kate’s neighbors. Cole Jackson was making enough noise to wake up the entire block of flats.

  With a wary glance in the direction of Kate’s room, where he sensed she was still out for the count, Arran yanked the door open, and the head of Council Security stepped through. His eyebrow rose when he took in Arran’s attire, and his grim features quirked into a half smile.

  “Interesting outfit, Arran,” he said. “I didn’t have you pegged for a cross dresser.”

  Arran flipped him the finger, and Cole laughed. A tense silence fell between them when Cole sobered, and sniffed the air.

  “The human asleep?” he asked, and Arran nodded and gestured for Cole to follow him in the kitchen.

  Once they were safely inside Arran sought refuge in his coffee cup again.

  “Want one?” he asked Cole. “You look as though you could do with one.”

  Cole gave a short humorless laugh and ran a hand over hi
s tired features.

  “You have no idea. The one night the cub finally settles down, and I get time to play with my mate and I get called out to deal with the aftermath of your brother’s mess. Emmi is not happy with me, and as you’ll discover when your human mate isn’t happy, then…” He let his words trail off, and murmured his thanks when Arran passed him over a cup of the black stuff.

  “It’s not just my brother’s mess,” Arran said, and Cole took a long swig and sniffed the air again.

  “I dare say it isn’t. You two are inseparable after all, but he claims it was all his doing. We’ve got to the CCTV cameras for that area, and I have folks looking at them right now, but that damn fool seems adamant to take the blame for it all, and I’ve got to tell you, Arran, this doesn’t look good. I can smell you’ve mated with her, but he hasn’t, so he has no excuse for this. None.”

  Arran’s panther growled low in his throat, and Cole’s bear showed in his eyes, when he stood up to put the now empty cup into the sink.

  “Easy there, Arran. The council wants you in for questioning, too. It’s only Zeb’s statement that has kept you out of it for now, and statement or not, if those cameras actually picked something up, then it may well be your head they want, too.”

  “No.”

  The soft gasp behind them made both men spin around, and Arran groaned at the sight of his mate. Clutching her bathrobe to her like a shield, and with her dark hair hanging in tousled disarray around her far too pale face, she looked young and vulnerable. The ugly bruises on her throat were clearly visible, her lip was swollen, and when the shoulder of her robe slipped as she stepped closer his bite mark was clearly visible, as was the thin gash made by one of the thug’s knives. It reiterated more than anything what she had been through, and Arran’s panther snarled.

  Her eyes widened, but when Arran held his arms out, she scooted into them without a moment’s hesitation, and his agitated beast calmed instantly.