Her Sexy Beast

by Karin Shah

  She tossed her head from side to side. “Roan!”

  He shuddered, then gripped the fabric of her jeans and ripped them down, leaving her only in her underwear. He froze, his chest pitching. His gaze ravenous as it swept over her form.

  Tiny tremors contracted on her skin. Had anyone ever looked at her like that? Moisture prickled her lids. How had she gotten so lucky?

  He started to crawl closer, but she stopped him. “Just a second?” She cupped his cheek, thumbing away the flash of uncertainty she saw in his eyes. “I just want to look at you for one more minute.”

  The sentiment embarrassed her, and she quickly latched her gaze on the broad stretch of his shoulders. He wasn’t bulky like some gym rats she’d known. His muscles were sleek, like a cat, just right, only what he needed for the tasks he tackled around the outfit, loading trucks and hammering tent poles. His chest was hairless. The scales again? If he overcame what his kidnappers had done to him, would he have tiny hairs there? Would a trail lead over those chiseled abdominals? Her gaze went lower, to the erection between his long, muscled thighs. He gleamed in the light. Her mouth watered.

  She could already imagine how thrilling it would be to wrap her lips around his length and feel him moan. The notion sent a shiver down her arms and legs.

  But that would have to wait for another day.

  She found his eyes again and they were glowing green. She’d almost forgotten his senses allowed him to virtually read her mind.

  The satisfaction on his face seemed more dragon than man. “Like what you see?”

  He wasn’t the only one able to read his partner. “Love it.” She was sure she’d never purred in her life, but her answer held the vibration of a contented feline even to her own ears.

  He lowered himself over her, his gaze mapping every fraction of what was laid out before him, from her full rounded thighs and curving hips to her breasts trembling under the delicate, but by no means demi, bra. With someone else, she might have shrunk beneath the careful study, pulled him close to mask her flaws, but the fervor and awe on his features left no room for doubt to creep in.

  Regardless of the other experiences she’d had in her life, no matter how many men had expressed the idea she’d be “better, worthy, whatever” if she were thinner, as far as Roan was concerned, she was perfect.

  He eased down beside her on the bed, his hip pressed to hers on one side, his length silky on her thigh, and found her mouth. The drugging kiss made her head swim. She leaned into the embrace, the movement of his lips on hers sending tiny shockwaves through her.

  Her skin felt tender and hyper-sensitive, nothing whatsoever like the skin she slathered with lotion or covered with clothing. She craved his hands on her, but dreaded it. A kiss had taken her to this pitch, if he touched her, she might come apart under his fingers.

  But at the same time the kiss wasn’t enough. She grasped his wrist beside her on the bed and tugged. He allowed her to guide his hand where she wanted it.

  His fingers curved over her breast. The pressure was delicious, and she cried out as his palm dragged the lace against her nipple. He smiled into her mouth and shifted to free his other hand to treat the neglected side in a similar fashion.

  The feeling was exquisite, but she needed more. She pushed onto her elbows and reached behind her back to release the hooks and eyes. It took longer than she wanted and she grunted in frustration, but just as he started to help her, it came loose.

  He peeled the garment away and settled onto his knees to examine the freshly exposed territory. She mourned the loss of his mouth on hers, but the reverence on his face as he thumbed a budded brown nipple more than made up for it.

  After tracing the disks of her aureolas with both thumbs, he molded the twin hills in his big hands, his work-roughed palms grated sweetly over the responsive area, stoking the already raging arousal inside her. “Roan!”

  Her exclamation brought his head up. His eyelids were at half-mast over his brilliant eyes, his features heavy with want. He didn’t speak, simply returned his attention to her aching breasts, tugging and molding, his gaze flicking back to her with every variation to judge her response. His attentiveness warmed her in a different way. No man had ever read her like this, as if her pleasure was his own. She slid her hands around him, pressing the pads of her fingers into his shoulder blades, urging him on. More, she needed more.

  He got the message, first stuffing his hand in the curls at her nape to hold them back and then nibbling the cord of her throat with slow deliberation as he loved her breasts with his hands, his lips wringing a cry from her with every sucking kiss or faint scrape of his teeth. When he reached her ear, he heaped the same attention on her tender lobe.

  She clutched his biceps, and he dropped lower, tracing her nipple with his tongue, lapping at one and then the other and then taking each in turn into his mouth, lashing them gently with his tongue before sucking gently.

  She contracted in response, curving around him and gripping him tightly. He left her breasts, mouthing and nibbling her abdomen with more hot, stinging kisses.

  The tension building with each caress made it hard to catch her breath.

  He arrived at the waistband of her boy shorts, slid his thumbs under the elastic, and tugged them off. She lifted her hips to assist. For someone who claimed to have no experience there was no awkwardness to his actions.

  His fingers found her slick center with deft precision. Jolts of electric pleasure shot through her. Her nails pressed against his back, unable to pierce his scales. “Those must have been some dreams.”

  He glanced up at her. His pupils were wide, and once more, circular. “There may have been some pretty detailed fantasizing in the last few days as well.”

  She couldn’t help but giggle at that, but laughter soon turned to moans as his hands resumed their magic, and not long after, his mouth followed. “Roan!” The sweep of his tongue found her unerringly, wrenching sounds from her lips, she couldn’t have imagined she’d make.

  In the past, she’d maintained some distance during sex, a tiny part of her remaining disengaged, longing for her partner to touch her differently or wondering if he wanted her to do this or that, but that wasn’t possible with Roan. The sensations were too extreme and all-encompassing. All she could do was react.

  Her muscles coiled until she skirted the edge of climax and she shoved at his shoulders. “My turn.”

  He lifted his face and stretched beside her, but when she stroked his chest with her fingers and moved lower he caught her hand.

  She drew back, surprised.

  He ducked his head. “I’m too close.”

  He was on the verge of coming just from tasting her? That was as thrilling as his mouth’s gentle play and she gasped, clutching his forearms to tow him over her. “I can’t wait either.”

  The silky brush of him on her inner thighs and pressure against her swollen flesh couldn’t have been more welcome. She gripped his buttocks with her hands, encouraging him forward.

  It had been a while for her and he was built in proportion, but he entered her smoothly, his ministrations and her arousal preparing the way.

  No past partner could compare. His fullness stretched her as if he were a key made for a lock. She had to force herself to breathe. Her thighs quivered. She was a hairsbreadth from shattering and he hadn’t even moved.

  Once he slid home, he stilled, his gaze locked on hers, sucking air through his teeth, clearly as close to the brink as she was. She wrapped her hand around his neck and tugged him down to kiss him, sighing into his mouth.

  He began to move, thrusting powerfully into her, each jab of his hips taking her higher. Time seemed to halt. She teetered on the edge of exploding and hovered there for several seconds or hours. His groans rang in her ears, his scent, a cloak around her. Tears blurred her visi
on.

  She rose to meet him, the hard plane of his chest against her softness another welcome sensation, but one too much. The tension broke. A wave of ecstasy crashed over her as she quaked around him.

  That seemed to be the last straw for Roan. His muscles clenched visibly and he shook, her name vibrating against her mouth. “Sofia!”

  He collapsed beside her, nestling his hip beside hers and kissing her one last time.

  It was only then that her ears cleared enough to register the ringing of her cellphone.

  Chapter 30

  His phone’s ringtone forced Ky to turn away from the lioness on the other side of the plexiglass, pat John’s slumped shoulder, and head for the quiet lounge to take the call.

  The massive multi-level zoo exhibit area of the warehouse set up for its single occupant was too echoey to allow for easy conversation. He noted Thalia’s name as he thumbed the answer icon and his heart ticked into a livelier meter.

  “What’s up?”

  Thalia updated him quickly, her voice warm and excited.

  He released a long inhale and squeezed his eyes shut. “And he’s mated now?”

  “Yep!”

  He chuckled. “So this time around we can avoid the typical Mara family reunion attempted murders?”

  Thalia’s laugh buzzed over the line. “That’s the idea.” She paused and sighed. “Actually, I’m not sure you should come now either. A man showed up claiming to be a deputy sheriff with a warrant for Roan. Long story short, he’s from the Kincaid Group.”

  “But . . .” Before he could fully voice his doubt, he heard her shake her head.

  “No, Kincaid and his associates are finished. This guy was a researcher. Just a cog who lost his machine. I compelled him to forget Roan, but . . .” She trailed off.

  “You think he’s resistant?”

  “I was pretty low energy when I confronted him. I can’t be sure he won’t be back.”

  Ky growled, his dragon surging to the forefront as he considered the threat. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll be there as soon as possible. If necessary, we can dispose of any ‘problems.’”

  He hung up, but not quick enough to miss her last words.

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Hank blinked at his dashboard. Where the hell was he? The last thing he remembered . . . What was the last thing he remembered? He peered at the dark trees outside the car window. He seemed to be a long way from his current home in Arizona. He turned on the radio. After several minutes of fiddling an announcer identified WAYT. “W?” He was somewhere on the East Coast. Given the lack of snow and ice, somewhere pretty far south. He kept seeking stations and heard an ad with an address in Tallahassee.

  When and why had he come to Florida?

  He groped for the phone in his pocket and found it dead. The outer rim was bent and the screen shattered as if something had crushed it.

  A memory returned. This was a burner phone he’d bought to be safe. He fumbled with the glove compartment and found it empty of everything except an owners’ manual. Odd, somehow he thought he’d had documents in there.

  He leaned forward and popped open a nearly invisible compartment in the door handle that was probably intended to hold change and sighed in relief at the still intact cellphone there.

  He opened his notes and everything flooded back. He was here to recapture Subject B, but a woman with glowing red eyes had interrogated him, and ordered him to drive to this nowhere spot.

  Damn, it seemed that Subject B had some kind of protection. He gritted his teeth and scrolled through his phone to a number identified with the single letter “D.”

  “What do you want?” a male voice answered.

  He rolled his eyes. “For someone who’s contract has dried up, I’d think you’d be more congenial to a potential customer.”

  “A customer, you? You couldn’t cover the cost of fuel.”

  “Not at the moment, but . . . I’ve found Subject B.”

  Silence rang over the line, then, “I’m listening.”

  “He’s still in partial-shift and doesn’t seem to know what he is, but there’s a complication and I need Typhon.”

  There was another long silence on the other side for several seconds and Hank held his breath. Finally, a rush of air crackled over the microphone, and his former teammate groaned. “Text me the details. We’ll be on the next transport.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Roan kissed the crown of Sofia’s head. She glanced up at him and snuggled into the crook of his arm. His heart constricted. Never since he’d awakened in an alley all those years ago, had he imagined anyone could love him.

  His chest felt so full and warm, he could lift off the mattress like a hot-air balloon. This all seemed like a dream.

  Sofia reached across him for her phone on the night table, her softness stirring his senses despite the several times they had come together that afternoon. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her.

  She groaned at the time. “We have to get back.”

  Thalia had called earlier and informed them that the deputy was an imposter. They could have returned then, but Sofia had told the other woman they’d see her later, tossed aside the phone and slid back into his arms.

  He must have made some kind of face, because she stroked the side of his cheek, her fingers tracing his scales. “How do you feel? Any different?”

  Thalia had said she thought having sex with his mate would fix him, but he hadn’t flashed back to full human. Being touched and touching Sofia aroused so many sensations on every level. Lord knows, a parade could’ve marched through during his orgasm and he might have missed it.

  Or he might always be stuck with this not wholly human form. He shrugged, not wanting to telegraph his worry. “I’m not sure.”

  He closed his eyes, and centered himself. His dragon seemed to stretch and uncoil, but he didn’t feel as if it might take control. And there was something else, another presence he hadn’t felt before. My lion.

  Both creatures were distinct in the way his left leg and his left arm were, but in the same way as positioning a limb, they now seemed integrated, no harder to control than either of those body parts.

  Sofia had been watching him. “Well?”

  “Actually, I feel great. I think I can do this . . .” He reached for his lion and there was a flash. His field of view and the way he saw colors changed. He looked down at himself and saw legs covered in thick fur, culminating in massive paws. He was bigger in this form than he thought he’d be. He was now on top of Sofia, as well as beside her.

  “Oof!” She eased from the bed and surveyed him from mane to tail. “Whoa, you’re enormous! Not as big as your dragon, but . . . wow!” She extended her hand. “Can I touch you?”

  He tried to speak but was only able to grunt. I can’t talk in this form.

  “Not with your mouth,” Sofia agreed. “But I heard that in my head. You’re still telepathic.”

  He butted his huge head against her. You can always touch me.

  Her answering smile rivaled the Florida sun. She buried her fingers in his mane. “Wow, um wow.” Experiencing a huge lion up close seemed to have made it hard for her to speak.

  He was too happy to resist. Cat got your tongue?

  She sent him a reprimanding look, but a chuckle slipped out.

  Her laughter felt like a prize. He rolled on his back and batted his massive paws at her like a giant house cat. The bed creaked threateningly .

  “Whoops! Better not move too much.” She stroked his fur for several minutes. Finally, she withdrew and started dressing. She pulled on her shirt and jeans and then stopped, dampening her full lips with her tongue and approached the bed.

  He got the feeling she was about to b
roach a topic she was afraid might ruin the mood. He waited.

  “Roan, you know I don’t care if you’re never able to shift fully into your human form, right? I fell in love with you as you are.”

  She’d read a lot into the fact that he’d attempted his lion form before his full human form. But she wasn’t wrong.

  Part of him feared he would never appear normal. He rested his pointed, feline chin on the covers. I know. But I don’t want to scare our children.

  ~ ~ ~

  Sofia’s breath caught in her throat. She countered his concern almost automatically. “Our children won’t care what you look like any more than I do.” But her mind was whirling.

  They hadn’t talked about the future or children and the idea was both thrilling and terrifying. Thrilling because she’d always dreamed of having a family and terrifying not only because everything had happened so fast, but also because it struck her that for the first time in her life, she hadn’t used a condom. She was on birth control, but she’d always used two forms of contraceptives.

  She was Roan’s first—and only, a fierce inner voice asserted—partner, but children should be discussed and planned for. It was unlikely she’d become pregnant. Oral birth control was very effective, but a little kernel of excitement at the idea of a baby warmed her chest.

  “You want children?” she asked him.

  It seemed a little odd to have this discussion with him as a lion, but he was clearly reluctant to try for his totally human form and perhaps fail. She feared coaxing him would give him the mistaken impression she’d been placating him about the issue and nothing could be further from the truth.

  “I would love a big family of my own.”

  Of my own. She glanced away to hide sudden tears at the profound loneliness in his answer. Not merely from sympathy, but because as an only child always on the move, she knew exactly how he felt. Like him, she’d been the perpetual outsider, skating on the periphery of others’ lives, never able to discover the secret handshake or understand the inside joke.