Leopard's Rage

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Leopard's Rage Page 36

by Christine Feehan


  He caressed the sides of her breasts with firm strokes of his knuckles and then his fist. She nearly swallowed him whole. Her gaze jumped to his for reassurance. He let his eyes do the talking, knowing his showed his dark lust for her. He felt her mouth grow hotter, nearly scorching him. Her hips rocked. Beneath her skin something moved aggressively and liquid formed in her eyes.

  “I’ve got you, baby,” he reassured. “We’re there. She’s close.”

  He continued to move his hands over her body, a slow assault, touching her in all the places he knew she loved the most, every touch a heavy stroke of ownership, concentrating on her, not on the sensations she was creating in him, for him, nearly driving him insane. He traced her ribs and then traced under her breasts before forcing himself to remove his cock from her mouth, although it was one of the most difficult things he had ever done. He felt like he might shatter, he was so hard. He caught up the bottle of lotion he’d had the presence of mind to bring and poured it into his palm to lather over his aching cock.

  “Sevastyan.” Flambé’s body trembled and she reached out to him, the expression of terror and lust on her face breaking his heart.

  Slipping from the railing, he crouched down, his hands on her thighs, fingers digging deep, loving her the only way he could tell her. Taking care of her. Showing her she wasn’t alone and whatever she needed, no matter what it was, he could find a way to be that for her. He stroked his tongue up her thigh. She felt so delicate. Her entire body shuddered. Her hands clamped down on his shoulders. He was careful to go slow when she tried to force fast.

  He knew she felt desperate, but fast wasn’t good for her—not yet. She needed a slow assault so her body could accept his. He had to use the utmost care in every touch when her body was this sensitive. The lotion and balm the doc had given them would only go so far to calm her nerves. The shots he gave her for clotting and hopefully, again, to help with her hypersensitive nerves, wouldn’t last forever. He was the one who had to learn her body and how to touch her to relieve the burn. He was an expert when it came to reading her and she mattered that much to him. He would take it slow and keep his touch as firm as possible to get her body ready for his.

  She didn’t have to love him back. He probably wouldn’t know what to do with it if she did. No one ever had. He had the feeling she hadn’t ever felt loved. That was going to change. He knew he loved her. He didn’t know when or how it started, it just crept up on him, but he wasn’t going to let her feel alone. She would always know she could count on him.

  Tying was a personal art. He had to know every subtle sign his model gave him. He’d always been extremely careful of every person he’d tied, but Flambé was more than just a rope model to him, she had become his world. Her nails bit into his shoulders and she cried out as he nipped at her inner thigh and murmured soothingly, letting her feel the warmth of his breath against the sensitive nerves bursting like fire beneath her delicate lips and inflamed clit.

  “I’ve got you, baby, you have to trust that I’ll get you through this.”

  He repeated the mantra over and over between kisses and licks. Between lapping more aggressively and settling his mouth over her slick heat and finally devouring the addicting spice, that combination of cinnamon, cloves, a hint of coriander and jasmine that was all Flambé. That combination along with the spicy hormones she was throwing off were beginning to make him feel as desperate as she was, but he forced his body under control, ignoring the thunder roaring in his head and the fire pounding through his veins.

  Flambé’s breath was ragged, hitching, frantic. “Please, please, please. Sevastyan. I need you right now.”

  Sevastyan stood up slowly, forcing himself to take his time, giving her that steady control, wanting her to see that no matter how far she spun out of control, he was always there for her, calm when he had to be. He could be completely counted on. Disciplined when there could be none. He studied her face for a long minute, tipping her chin up to his while his gaze drifted over her, making certain she was all right and her body could accept his.

  His hands went to her waist, testing, lifting her, sitting her on the railing, spreading her thighs apart so he could stand between them. “Clean my face, baby.”

  Beyond frantic, Flambé leaned forward, her tongue licking at the liquid on his jaws while he cupped the weight of her breasts in his palms, his thumbs sliding over her nipples, carefully watching her face. Before she would have screamed in agony; now, she seemed to move into his hands, finding pleasure, not pain. He tugged on her left nipple hard, pinching down, experimenting. Sex could get wild, savage even, definitely brutal. He wanted to see if she could handle his touch when they would get real with their bonding sex.

  She threw her head back, crying out again, but the sound was one of need, not pain. Her little whisper of Sevastyan sent hot blood pounding through his cock. All the time taken in preparation seemed to have worked. Her body responded. Instead of wanting to claw her own skin off, she wanted him inside her, wanted his hands and mouth on her.

  He kissed his way down the line of her throat, teeth nipping while she wrapped her legs tight around his waist, trying to press her slick sex tight against him. He held her while he kissed her mouth, over and over, letting the flames take them both higher and higher. Kissing her was literally like igniting alcohol, turning them both to living flames. Her name was very apropos. Kissing her was very much like lighting a match to a stick of dynamite. She moved him every time. Intimate. Sensual. Darkly lustful. Damn-right sexy. All Flambé.

  He kissed his way down her throat, his teeth nipping, tongue easing the sting. Her hips rocked against his abs. Her sex was hotter than hell so that his cock pulsed and jerked, rubbing between their bodies. Locking her to him with one hand to keep her from falling off the railing, he drew her left breast into his mouth and sucked hard, pulling strongly. With his free hand, he tugged and rolled her right nipple. With every tug he felt the answering liquid heat pressing hot against his abs as she ground herself against him.

  He used his teeth on her left nipple and then pressed it to the roof of his mouth before marking her breast to his satisfaction and then switching to her right breast. She gasped, her arms cradling his head to her, holding him close, watching him feed, crying out as he went from gentle to rough and back again. All the while her body moved frantically against his in an effort to relieve the desperate burning.

  Sevastyan caught at her waist again and she dropped her legs so she could stand, although she was trembling. “Put your hands on the lower rails,” he instructed. He was already positioning her hands, turning her away from him, pushing her head down, bending her at the waist.

  Flambé was nearly sobbing. “Hurry, Sevastyan. I can barely stand it.” She pushed back with her hips.

  “Widen your legs.” He kept his voice calm, in control, commanding, when all he wanted to do was bury himself deep and lose himself in her. He didn’t want her to panic at the last moment.

  Shturm was so close, a monstrous presence, waiting to break free at the first opportunity to claim his mate. That meant Flamme was equally as close. Flambé had to be petrified when her first experience of trying to get the leopard out had been pure agony. Sevastyan could only hope that he’d adequately prepared her body.

  Flambé followed his instructions immediately, just as she did when she was tied. He stroked his hand down her hair to reassure her. He slid his hand down the nape of her neck and then her spine to steady her before he lodged the broad head of his cock in that hot, slick entrance. She was so hot she felt like she might burn him alive. When he looked down at them, it seemed impossible for her little body to take him inside her. He was never certain she could take him, and he knew she felt the same way, especially when he pushed into her and she gasped, her breath catching in her lungs.

  That first slow breach, as her body swallowed the sensitive crown of his cock, devouring him, taking him in, surroun
ding him with her silken fire, was like nothing he’d ever encountered. That first entry, when she was so tight, was impossible to tell for either one of them whether it was ecstasy or agony. But there was no way he could stop. No way she wanted him to stop.

  Little beads of sweat dotted his forehead. He felt almost like a feral animal. A predator, wild and savage, claiming his mate just as his counterpart was desperate to claim Flamme. No matter how often Sevastyan took Flambé, it was as if it was always the first time. He could barely breathe between the sight of his cock disappearing into her body and the feel of her tight walls clasping him, squeezing down and embracing him with a thousand tongues of pure flame.

  He caught her hips in his hands and slammed his body home, driving through those tight reluctant petals, feeling the friction rub over his cock like scorching-hot silk. He had always been pure raw sex and Flambé responded to that. Was addicted to that. She craved rough. Needed it. She craved dirty and he gave it to her. He needed it just as much as she did. She screamed and rammed her hips back into his equally as hard, sending sparks racing up his spine to short-circuit his brain.

  He tried to be careful of her, to stay in control, but it was nearly impossible with the drive of his leopard and Flambé completely caught up in the brutal throes of her heat. She was wild, half-mad with need, pleading for more, begging him for more, and he gave it to her, swatting her cheeks to spread the heat to nerve endings, burying his thumb knuckle deep between her cheeks and fucking her as he rode her hard.

  Sevastyan lifted her feet off the ground and pounded into her, his cock so scorching hot, so diamond hard and full, he never wanted the insanity to end. He no longer cared that he was acting crazy, a man possessed by a demon. He felt demonic. Flambé had spiraled out of control right along with him, a kind of madness claiming the two of them so that she responded to everything he did to her, begging for more.

  It didn’t matter how hard he rode her, if he bit, spanked, used his fingers or brutally used his cock, she screamed for more and he gave her more. He just grew hotter and hotter. Thicker and fuller. Plain steel burying himself as deep as possible while her body coiled tighter and tighter as if it was a silken tunnel slowly constricting his cock.

  Flambé let out a low cry of agonized ecstasy. The sound started as a moan and just kept coming until it crescendoed into a long wail as her body bit down hard on his, so that he wanted to give that same shout of agonized ecstasy. Unbelievably, as a vise went, it was vicious, clamping down on his cock so tight it drove the breath from his lungs, but at the same time, it felt so fucking good the roaring in his head replaced his ability to think.

  A thousand silken fingers, hot as hell, milked his cock as it jerked hard, jetting ropes of semen coating her sheath, triggering a multitude of orgasms so that one ran into another. Her cries were continuous, her body shivering as the powerful ripples claimed her.

  How close is her female, Shturm?

  She’s right there. She’s hurting, Sevastyan, she’s got to get out this time.

  Sevastyan could feel the genuine concern in his leopard. He refused to tense up. He withdrew slowly. Flambé cried out again, this time at the sting of his cock hooking her. He turned her around, forcing air through his lungs, walking to the open porch and setting her down, one hand to her shoulder, not giving her time to think.

  “Get on your hands and knees, Flambé.” He used his dominant voice. “You aren’t finished.”

  Her hips were moving continuously. A sob of despair escaped. “I’m still burning.”

  “Yes, I know. That’s the heat. It will build again fast. I want your mouth cleaning me.” He couldn’t let her think while her leopard pushed forward. The moment Flambé obeyed, going to her hands and knees, and her tongue ran up his thigh and licked along his shaft, he signaled to his leopard. Call her out. Bring her to you.

  Shturm was an extremely powerful male and his will was strong. He exerted pressure on the little female, calling to her, assuring her that Sevastyan would take care of Flambé, not allow anything to happen to her while she shifted, but she had to hurry, not hesitate. Sevastyan saw Flambé’s skin begin to ripple as if something was alive beneath it. Her front arms contorted and she gasped and went down to her elbows, an expression of terror coming over her face.

  “Look at me,” Sevastyan demanded in his low, carrying tone, all velvet and steel. “Flambé. Look at me now.”

  She was used to obeying him when tied and she did so automatically. She lifted her gaze to him.

  “Relax into it, give yourself to it the way you do the ropes. Keep your eyes on me at all times. You are not to look away. Do you understand? No matter how it feels.” He reached down and framed her face with both hands. “We’re in this together. You trust me to get us through this. Keep your eyes on me.”

  Flamme was definitely in her first life cycle. The change came in little stops and starts, very awkwardly but steadily, with Shturm coaching her. Her back legs were covered in fur first. Then her spine and tail, belly and front legs. Finally, her head and ears and jaw. Extraordinary. Her jeweled green eyes clung to his the entire time.

  Sevastyan had never seen anything like her. She was very small for a leopard. Ginger in color with red rosettes instead of black. Her undercoat beneath the ginger was white, the overall length quite long and thick. She was quite unique and beautiful. He could see why poachers hunted them the moment they were spotted.

  “You’re still there, Flambé, just in the background. When they’ve had their time together, Shturm will guide them home. I’ll instruct you to shift and bring you upstairs to shower and bathe in the liquid the doc gave us. I’ll put the lotion on you to help. He has a balm he wants me to use inside you to help. The heat will last seven days. We’re going to get you through this, baby. I promise. I’m so proud of you. Look what you’ve done. You got her out. She’s alive. You did it.” He bent his head and pressed a kiss to the top of Flamme’s head, right between her ears. “Take good care of them, Shturm.”

  Shturm pushed at him and Sevastyan stepped back to give his big male his freedom. The leopard certainly deserved happiness after all the cruelty that he’d suffered at the hands of Rolan and Lazar for years. Neither Sevastyan nor Shturm had ever thought this day would come. Sevastyan hoped Shturm’s mate would be far more devoted to the leopard than Flambé was to him.

  17

  IT’S a good idea that you take a shower and prepare yourself for a very long and intense tie this afternoon, Flambé,” Sevastyan greeted. “Don’t forget to use the lotion the doc gave us. Hydrate. After yesterday, it’s very important that you stay hydrated. Come downstairs when you’re ready.”

  He’d been up early and was already dressed in his soft drawstring pants. Just the way he was dressed and barefoot would signal to her that he wanted to tie her. “Flamme’s heat will last at least seven more days. Mitya knows I won’t be coming in and I’ve informed your foreman you won’t. I told him not to call unless there’s an emergency.”

  “I think I can handle my own business.” She sat up in the middle of the bed, giving him her little haughty look, chin tilted. There were dark circles under her eyes that got to him, but he refused to see them. They had some things to sort out and with Flambé, there seemed to be only one way she would really talk to him. There was a bite mark on her shoulder. His teeth. Not Shturm’s. He felt some satisfaction in that.

  He turned his coolest gaze on her and didn’t reply to her statement. “I’ll be downstairs waiting for you.”

  “Downstairs?”

  “That’s what I said. Do you need me to repeat myself again?”

  She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, looking very confused as she shook her head. That was good. He wanted her off balance. He needed her to be that way. He turned and walked out of the room without looking back. That was another thing. He’d studied the tapes of the times she’d observed him at the club. His demeanor
. He realized it was the way he took charge that appealed to Flambé. She needed that, yet at the same time, she needed to feel safe. He was good at giving her both.

  Sevastyan had helped her shower and bathe, massaged lotion into her skin and put her to bed after the leopards had their time together and had returned in the early morning hours. He’d permitted himself a brief rest and then spent the rest of the time talking to the doctor and doing as much research as possible into the condition she had. There wasn’t a lot on it, other than for humans and what little the doctor had given him for shifters. The data had been bleak. The number of suicides for their kind had been high. There was nothing really known about Strawberry leopards. He wanted that changed.

  He had already set up his rigging, which was suspended above a small couch he brought into his den. The large O-ring was hung from a single chain suspended from the ceiling. He would tie his ropes off that, four of them. One that would go for her arm and breast harness. One her waist. The other two her legs. The ties themselves were classics, the harness and legs ties, but the position itself was known as Patience for a reason. She could stay there for a while and contemplate what he had to say. Think about her reply and then if he didn’t like what she had to say, she could think about it some more. They had all day.

  If the leopards decided to make an appearance, he could cut her loose fast and when they returned, he would once more follow the doctor’s instructions to keep her safe. He would then tie her in the classic Lesson to Be Learned tie. They had seven days. They might be a long seven days for her, but they were going to work their shit out. She didn’t like talking to him unless she was in the ropes, so she was going to spend a lot of her time in ropes.

 

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