by S E Holmes
The noise snapped her to full clarity. She surveyed the space, focus coming to rest on Nic. He squirmed under the scrutiny, wishing for some way to reinstate modesty.
Mira closed her eyes and murmured, “You’re kidding!”
She traversed the steps muttering obscenities and made her way across a springy rug strewn with fat pillows, her beguiling scent reaching him a beat before she did. Dropping to her knees in front, she perfunctorily used the key to release the cuffs at his wrists and ankles. Nic struggled to look anywhere but this tantalising vision so close he could reach out and touch. He resorted to concentrating on the negative aspects of his situation, anything to battle the want detonating his cells.
“I guess drugging and kidnap trump Sasha’s phone,” he joked. It was pitiful, but thinking with Mira on display like a juicy, gold-dipped candy proved a trial. Were her parents pimps?
She narrowed quizzically. “What phone? What are you talking about?” She checked for a fever, the cool back of her hand on his forehead.
“Umm, Katya? Sasha’s channelling Spielberg.”
“Oh, that! You did her the greatest mercy. Thank you, Nic. Scar showed me.”
“Pardon?”
“I can see via cats,” she said as if commenting on the weather. “Any will do, but I rather prefer him. He has a very quirky personality and an excellent sense of humour.”
“Glad I asked.” On to more rational topics. “So,” he said casually, “when does the feast begin?”
“Bast does not celebrate cannibalism, Nic. It is the worship of love and sensual pleasure. You are my life-mate and our consummation will re-establish Bast’s ascendance.”
“That’s all?” he croaked. Amongst all the kookiness, the dominant realisation she’d fought so hard just to avoid being with him hurt and it must have shown.
“It would be wise to inquire about the catch.”
“There’s a catch...?”
“Isn’t there always?”
Perfect breasts eclipsed the scene. He cleared his throat, “Do you think you might sit next to me or something? Maybe, cover yourself with a cushion?”
Hiding himself was probably smart, for that matter. There were no guarantees, in spite of the circumstances, his arousal wouldn’t reveal itself in palpable fashion. Particularly when she stretched to snag the biggest specimen available, offering a first rate view of her firm, round, squeezable behind... Crap! He needed to stay on point. But point was the wrong descriptor; it recalled her small, enticing nipples. He clutched a pillow between his legs, working to steady his breathing.
“Sorry.” She flopped to his side, mercifully camouflaged, if only just.
“The catch,” he prompted, amazed by her lack of self-consciousness. Her boldness added greatly to her scorching appeal.
“A rather humungous one in the grand scheme of things. Those who are worthy must prove it in the presence of Bast. At the completion of our union I undergo a transmutation, which you must survive in order to seal the new beginning. It’s either a sacrifice, or a bestowal. History has favoured sacrifice.”
“I’d be grateful if you spoke plain English. This has been the weirdest day of my existence and my patience is shaky.” So was his defiance, which provoked physical pain. His groin throbbed.
She gazed at him. “I become a cat. We don’t know the species until it happens, but it’s usually a reflection of character. Without exception, they’ve all been savage, instinctive, untamed creatures-of-the-wild dedicated to extermination, until the rise of a new sun.”
“No house-kitty then?” he scoffed. “I’m not really a cat person, but I suppose I could tolerate a Burmese.”
Mira scowled. “Make jokes at your peril. Katya’s lover did and his guts were splattered so far and wide, the techies couldn’t retrieve all the pieces. His mother carried the tiny box of remains at the funeral. Single-handed. We demolished the suite because we could never eradicate the stink of blood and offal. And the guilt and grief drove Katya mad. You saw the rabid thing she became.”
Nic swallowed hard. “The others?”
“Refused the risk. None of them sought their mates. Their coming-of-age saw them virgins, claiming their humanity for the duration. They cannot change back, trapped in their Bast forms. And under fading Bast magic, Lidya didn’t transform at all, bringing nothing but shame and misfortune. Sasha’s father abandoned her when she was pregnant. The arsehole blackmailed our family for millions and disappeared with the woman who helped con us. But you never cross the Felid. Those two met a very grisly end,” she spat.
Mira covered her face with her hands. “It’s taken everything I have to avoid you and I’ve failed often. You’re the most courageous, kind, hard-working, ethical person I’ve ever met. And irresistible. I don’t know if I’m strong enough. I don’t trust myself with you.”
He knew contact was incredibly stupid, but arranged an arm to pull her close, prising her fingers apart with the other. What the hell? These Felid were without doubt queer, but he really liked Mira. She carried the burden of her family alone and he related; whether she was a drunk or a lunatic didn’t seem to matter. Nic smiled and smoothed away a strand of hair clumped by tears.
“It takes two to tango.”
He leaned in and parted her lips with his tongue for a drawn-out, velvety kiss. Heart stuttering, a tsunami of desire threatened to drown him. The intensity of her own passion animated her lovely face and she tossed the cushions aside to straddle him, leaving scant fabric and his excitement between them. The ankh weaved a hypnotic rhythm to the motion of her hips.
His fingers whispered along the contour of her collar-bone, making her shiver with pleasure, while marvelling at her silken skin and tugging at the sparkly gauze wrapping her breasts. The material slithered free, invoking goosebumps and she giggled blissfully. Her unadorned curves triggered awe, and Nic hardly comprehended he could touch her anywhere he liked.
As he resolved to take his sweeter-than-honey time, craving swept aside all composure. He grabbed her and rolled on top, fist tangled in her hair without breaking the kiss, her tongue softly probing his mouth. Their movements grew frenzied. As he caressed the plumpness of her breast, circling a small peach nipple and pinching its hardness between fingertips, she gasped and arched towards the pressure.
“You must not linger when we’re done,” she panted, rubbing hard against him.
“Hm-mm.” Nic pressed the flesh of her butt to increase friction, the other hand heading south and tongue replacing his vacated fingers. A perfect storm of heat swelled within.
“Oh,” she groaned. “You’re not quite as ethical as our reports indicated.”
“Is it a problem?” His self-control teetered; she was so luscious it was all he could do not to take her on the spot.
“Promise me, Nic. Please! Waste no time, there are ropes. Get up into the rafters.”
He would promise her anything; give her everything she asked for. “Yes, yes! I promise,” he mumbled through a nuzzled mouthful.
“Don’t forget to pull them up,” her tone was desperate.
“Wait!” he said, suddenly protective. “You’ve never been with anyone before?”
“Do girls count?” she whispered teasingly in his ear.
“Ahh, crap,” Nic moaned. “I can’t wait any longer.” Her hand folded him in warmth to guide him home.
***
Chapter Thirty-Four