Prowl the Night (13 page)

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Authors: Crystal Jordan

BOOK: Prowl the Night
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“I don't want to lose you. I really don't, but I don't want to lose
me
either.” She pressed the hand holding the rope to her chest.
“I know exactly what you mean.” He couldn't have said it better himself, how he felt about all of this. He wanted them both to be themselves and still have each other.
She smiled at him. “I knew you would, my mate.”
He'd never loved her more than in this moment. He'd opened his mouth to tell her when her lips closed over his, her tongue sliding in to tease his. His reaction was immediate and powerful, as it always was with his mate. He suckled her lower lip, pulling it between his teeth to bite down softly. She moaned into his mouth and his cock went hard. He pulled away, but his movements were hampered by the bindings.
He rolled his head on the pillow to look at the ropes. Slim and paler than cream, they smelled of something natural. Hemp, maybe. They were twisted in intricate patterns up his arms. His eyebrows arched and surprised sparked within him. “You know
shibari?
”
She chuckled. “That word just means ‘to bind' in Japanese. We call this
kinbaru.
”
“I didn't know.” He didn't know if he meant the new vocabulary or the new information about his wife.
Grinning, she bent forward to lick one of his nipples, and he jerked against the bindings in reflex. “As you said, we're constantly changing, but there is also much we don't know about each other, much we have yet to learn.”
“Why didn't you ever do this to me before?”
A flush rose to her cheeks. “My mother sent the ropes to me. They arrived yesterday.”
He tugged at the thin ties again, truly testing his strength against theirs. A human man would have been trapped, but he was no mortal. “I could escape from these.”
“Do you want to escape me?”
He met her gaze, saw a warmth and affection there that he hadn't seen in months. There was no way he was going to do anything to discourage that. “No. I trust you.”
“Good.” She leaned forward and kissed the mate mark that scored his left pec. “That's very good.”
A shudder passed through him at the contact with the mark. Lightning forked through his body, and his cock jerked. Her fingers drifted along the ropes on his arms, and suddenly they loosened and he was free.
“Would you kneel on the bed for me? I want to do this right.” Her gaze met his, and he saw the questions there. Would he really trust her with this? Would a man born to lead be willing to give her
all
the power?
He pushed himself upright, shifting around until they were on their knees facing each other. “What should I do now?”
“Just stay there.” She stretched up to kiss the side of his neck, to nip his flesh with her fangs. He shuddered, but didn't grab her and roll her under him as he wanted to. Whatever game she had in mind, he was going to play.
She draped the rope around the back of his neck, letting the ends dangle down his chest. Moving around him and behind him, she formed a variety of knots that made the rope crisscross over his chest, between his shoulder blades, around his waist, and between his legs. She drew his wrists behind him and tied them at the small of his back. It felt odd, but the scent of her, the feel of her hands on his flesh made him purr.
There were times when she brushed against his cock, and he knew it was deliberate. He was so hard, so ready, he felt beads of pre-cum rolling down the length of his shaft, but every second that passed cranked his anticipation up a notch.
She let one finger trail after a drop of fluid. “You're very hard, my mate.”
“You're touching me.” His chuckle was a rusty sound. “Of course I'm hard.”
Humming in her throat, she swirled that fingertip around the head of his cock. “I like that. And I hope you'll like this.”
And then she began tightening the ropes.
He hissed as the bindings began to rub over his skin, exerting pressure on his cock, the bindings biting in to separate his balls and pull his buttocks apart. The blood was effectively trapped in his dick, which flushed a deep red the tighter she drew the ropes.
Every movement of the bindings pushed him closer to the edge, and he feared he'd come before this game was anywhere near done. God, he'd never been so hot in his life. The ropes slid over the mate mark on his chest and he choked on a breath.
Sweat broke out on his forehead and every thought fled his mind. There was nothing in the world except his mate, the ropes, and the lust that consumed his body in living flames. The binding grew so taut he could barely breathe, and the pressure on his cock made groans wrench from his throat.
She pushed him onto his side, and his shoulder bounced hard against the mattress as he landed. Her fingers curled in the ropes on his chest, holding him close as she wrapped her thigh over his hip. He thrust forward as best he could, and she met him halfway, seating herself on his cock.
Dios.
Her gaze met his and never left. They were together in this, just as they promised. Connected. Mates. It was the most amazing thing he'd ever known.
The feel of her silky flesh sliding against his, the utter perfection of her heat squeezing tight around his cock, made the Panther within snarl and claw for freedom. His fangs bared and he groaned each time she sealed her pussy to the base of his cock. Every second sharpened to a clarity that would be seared into his memory for the rest of his days—her dark eyes flickering to gold, her fangs as deadly as his, moans spilling from her throat.
“Tomas.” She gasped his name, the sound a rush of air in his ear.
“Ciri.” He had to grit his teeth to keep from coming. All he could smell, feel, and taste was her. “God, you feel good.”
She gripped the ropes tighter, pulled him closer. Her slim body arched, took him deep—deeper than he'd been before. “Yes.”
And still they held each other's gazes, neither willing to release this precious link.
His hands fisted behind him and he struggled to move his body in the harsh bindings. He ground his hips against her, angling himself in the way he knew made her scream.
“Tomas,
Tomas!
” Her fangs scored his flesh as she bit down on his shoulder. The pain sharpened his pleasure until he thought he might die.
Her inner muscles clenched on his cock, milking him. He gave up on any hope of control, slamming into a wave of orgasm and letting it drag him under. The bite of the ropes only accentuated his pleasure; that he could barely move, barely breathe, just made it more intense. His come exploded out of him, jetting into her lovely body. The only word he could form was the one that meant the most to him. “Ciri!”
Just her name. That was all. That was everything.
They lay together, gasping, shuddering as they came down from the high. Her gaze never left his, and he saw every emotion on her face. She hid nothing from him, there was no pretense, no reserve. Just his Ciri. Sweet woman and ferocious predator all in one package that balanced his own nature to perfection.
After the sweat had cooled on their bodies, their breathing and heart rates had returned to normal, he winced as his muscles began to cramp in their bound position.
He chuckled again at the rare gift that was his wife, the unexpected fire beneath the cool exterior. “What other secrets have you been keeping from me? I hope they're all this good.”
“I can only think of one.” She leaned back, cupped his face between her palms, and met his gaze. “I love you.”
He could see it in her eyes, could feel it in her touch, and it was heart-stopping in its intensity. “I love you, too.”
Tears welled in her eyes, but she smiled the smile that had stolen his soul the very first day. “Good.”
“Good.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “Can you untie me now?”
She purred, her midnight eyes sparkling with joy. She ran a finger down one of the ropes. “Perhaps I should do this to you every time I want to get your undivided attention.”
“I like that idea.” He watched her eyes flash with feral gold light, and sensed how much she enjoyed his ready acceptance. Her talons sliced through the bindings, and gooseflesh broke down his limbs as his muscles relaxed in one great rush. He grinned at her. “Perhaps you should teach me the knotting techniques so I can return the favor.”
Her breath caught, her nipples peaked tight where they pressed against his chest, and the smell of her damp arousal flooded his nose. “I . . . could be convinced.”
“Convincing people is what I do.” He grinned at her, but the expression faded. There were still things he hadn't said to her. Things he needed to ask her, so he just let the biggest question out. “Do you want me to step down as heir?”
He didn't know who he'd be if he wasn't a politician, but he'd figure it out. If he didn't have Ciri, he had nothing of real value. He would be half-dead, his soul ripped in two. For the first time since his
avô
died, he felt like he had his priorities straight.
A wry smile curved his lips. “Though it may not matter, since my father could be asking for my resignation after our conversation tonight.”
“No, you will
not
resign. You love this; you're good at it. I wouldn't ask you to give up a part of yourself for me, and I won't give up myself for you.” She pressed her hands to his chest. “We're in this together, remember?”
“But you hate this. You'd hate the life you'd live with me as a Pride leader's mate.”
She pulled in a slow breath, her brows drawing together in consideration. “I'd hate living your mother's life, yes. But I'm not her and I never will be. I'd also hate living in a Pride as liberal as this one. I won't do things the way your mother does, or Solana does, or the way any other leader's mate does. I'll do them my way. Just as you'll do things your way. You don't intend to lead the same way that Pedro or Antonio leads, do you?”
“No. I won't. I don't agree with either of them on everything.”
“Well, then.” Her shoulder lifted in a shrug. “We'll make our own way. You're going to have a fight on your hands with your father, but I'll be by your side the whole way. Just like you'll be by my side. It's going to be rough, but we can do this. I know we can.”
“I love you.” More honest words had never come from his lips. It was the most fundamental truth of his life.
“I love you, too, Tomas. I always have. I always will. We'll work the rest out.”
“Yes, we will.” No one would ever fit him as well as she did, in and out of the bedroom. She was his balance, and he was grateful, so very grateful, that he had realized it before he'd lost her entirely. It staggered him that she'd been willing to give him another chance, that she had enough faith in him to come to him tonight. Her quiet courage and simple strength were traits he would never take for granted again.
As she'd said, they had so much to learn about themselves and each other, and now they had the time to do that. To savor each other, to build their relationship as they should have from the very beginning. He would always regret the time they'd lost, but they had now, they had today. They had every day for as long as they lived.
It was more than enough, no matter what other changes the future might hold for them.
They had each other.
W
ANT
M
E
1
H
e had blood on his boots.
Exhaustion threatened to crush Rafe under its weight. He hadn't even noticed the rusty stains splattering over his shoes and up the legs of his pants until he'd gotten up to shuffle off the flight from Cairo.
Then again, he'd damn near missed his connection in New York, so he'd been sprinting through the airport to make it. Or running as fast as a human could. Even dead on his feet, a Panther could go a lot faster than any mortal. He'd passed out in his seat before they'd even backed away from the JFK terminal, which might be why he hadn't seen the gore on his clothes.
Luckily, the guys he was meeting wouldn't care. In fact, Ric and Diego would think it was awesome and want details of his latest adventure. A wry smile twisted his lips. If anyone was up for an adventure, it was the Cruz twins.
“Excuse me,” an older man said politely as he elbowed Rafe in the gut.
“Don't worry about it.” It was all he could do not to snarl at him.
This assignment had been grueling. One of those times when nothing went right. It happened, but this time it had grated on Rafe's nerves so much that he'd come close to losing his cool with a panhandling teen the day before. Normally, he was more amused than anything else with the ploys the kids used, but not lately. He was just . . . tired. Tired of not having roots, tired of not having family, tired of going from one place to the next and never having any permanency at all.
Sure, he was a member of the North American Panther Pride. He could stay there forever and never leave again if that was what he wanted, but it wasn't. As a travel journalist, he'd been everywhere at least once and lived to write about it. He'd gotten caught in riots, pinned down in war zones, stranded in the desert, and lost at sea. He'd seen all Seven Wonders of the World, hiked through rainforests with pygmies, ridden camels with Bedouin tribes, and seen sunrises on mountaintops that would make God Himself weep from the beauty of it.
It had been one hell of a life so far, and he'd loved every minute of it, but something had been riding him lately. A restlessness he couldn't understand. It used to be he got antsy staying in one place too long, and now the constant travel frayed his nerves. He'd cut his last trip short to come back to the Pride for a while. Some instinct told him he needed to be there, though he couldn't put his finger on why. Maybe staying put for a month or two would do him good. It couldn't hurt, and might let him shake whatever it was that was eating at him. He could catch up with old friends, get some writing done and thus make his editors happy at the same time.
He wove his way through the crowded airport, leaving the old man far behind. The smell and sound of so many people were an assault to keen Panther senses. The overhead speaker blared security warnings, and it was something he'd seen and experienced so many times it battered at his fatigued mind.
Hitching his backpack higher on his shoulder, he rode the escalator down to the luggage claim where he would meet the twins.
“Rafael!” Ric's voice caught his lagging attention, and he turned to shake the man's hand. A wide smile crossed both their faces and Ric slapped his shoulder.
Diego wrapped him up in an exuberant bear hug. “Hey, Rafe! How've you been, man? What happened to your clothes?”
“Not bad, and I'll tell you about it later.” The weariness that had ridden him for so long hit him again. “I'm ready to get home and catch some Zs, though.”
The twins glanced at each other and Ric's mouth tightened. Diego met Rafe's gaze. “That's going to have to wait for a few minutes. We have another pickup.”
“Oh? Who?” The terse reaction—so unlike the energetic man—made curiosity rear its head.
After a long moment, Ric answered. “We have a Panther coming in on a flight from Tokyo.”
Rafe waited a beat, expecting more information. The twins' uncharacteristic reticence definitely had his attention. “Someone from Ciri's family, perhaps?”
“No. The heir to the Spanish Pride.” A muscle in Diego's jaw ticked. “Fernando Garcia's daughter. Enrique Garcia's sister. Teresa.”
“Shit.” There was no other word he could put to the concept. There was bad blood between the European and North American Prides. Hell, there wasn't a lot of love lost between the European and African Prides either, and it all came down to one man.
Enrique Garcia.
The madman was the Pride leader's son, and he'd become obsessed with Isabel, insisted she was his mate, and assaulted her, biting her to mark her as his. She'd fled Barcelona and sought asylum in San Francisco, where her childhood friend was now the leader's wife. When Isabel had arrived, she'd found not one, but both of the leader's younger twin brothers were her mates.
Rafe shook his head. “I mean . . . uh . . . shit.”
Diego snorted. “Yeah, exactly.”
“Are you sure you're the right ones to be dealing with this woman?” As far as Rafe knew, none of the mated trio had had any contact with the Garcias since they'd gone to Africa to represent the Pride for Cesar Benhassi's recognition ceremony when he'd come to power.
“We wanted to meet her before Isabel has to see her.” Diego's gaze hardened, and the pure protective instinct of a mated Panther male was evident in his expression.
Enrique had also been in Africa for the ceremony, and in his madness had tried to attack Isabel again, demanding she return to his side as his mate. The twins had laid him out flat, and Benhassi had publicly rebuked Fernando for keeping a crazed man as his heir, forcing him to denounce his son and make his daughter his heir.
Such reckless idiocy could have led to civil war, to the exposure of Panthers to humans, to the end of their race as they knew it. Civil war had decimated the Pride in Africa a few decades before, so if anyone knew what he was talking about, it was Benhassi. The altercation had soured relations between Spain and the other two Prides.
And now the Pride leader's new heir, Teresa, was coming
here
. It sounded like a recipe for disaster.
Clearing his throat, Rafe hitched his pack higher on his back. “What's she coming to North America for, anyway?”
“She's attending Antonio's peace summit. She missed the opening ball last night because a storm over the Pacific delayed her flight, but she'll be here for the actual summit.” Ric crossed his arms. “But let's be real, she's doing a tour of the Prides to find a mate. They're saying it's a dignitary tour to meet all the other leaders, heirs, and Seconds, and this summit is just the cap on the tour, but she's unmated and around thirty, so . . . you do the math.”
“No doubt Garcia wants to get her mated up and breeding since his
loco
son isn't churning out potential heirs for his line anytime soon.” Ric slid his hands into his pockets, a muscle flexing in his jaw.
Rafe sighed. This did not look promising. Ric was usually the rational one of the two, while Diego had a gilded tongue. If both of them were defensive and pissed off, they had a good chance of offending this woman and making relations between the two Prides even worse. Great. Just great. This was not what Rafe wanted to be dealing with right now. A hot shower and a bed were what he had in mind, in that order.
“How long until her flight lands?”
Diego checked his watch. “Any minute now.”
“I'm getting a cup of coffee. You guys want anything?” The two were strung so tight, Rafe didn't think they needed caffeine.
“Nope, we're good, thanks.” They spoke at once, their attention focused on the arrivals area.
If he hurried, he might be able to get back in time to save the woman from a possible mauling. But without some coffee, he might not last long enough to help anyone. He was about ready to drop where he stood.
Swinging around, he headed straight for the scent of coffee. Of all the overwhelming scents in the terminal, that one was the most welcome. The line was long, of course, but the boredlooking baristas shuffled people through with practiced precision. Within ten minutes, he had a steaming cup of pitch-black sludge. He burned his tongue when he guzzled it, but it was exactly what he needed.
“Damn,” he groaned. He'd missed the woman's arrival. Her chin was lifted and she met the twins' gazes coolly. Whatever greeting they'd given her had been less than welcoming.
Even from a distance, he could see she was an attractive female, with a smooth sweep of inky hair that brushed her shoulders. Her business suit was tailored to her curves. Not too slender, like most women were these days. Her eyes were a startling pale gray, and her lips were a little too generous for her face, but she was lovely in a reserved kind of way.
“I thought Tomas was going to be the one picking me up. He
is
the one I've been dealing with to make arrangements for this trip.” Her voice was as frosty as the look in her eyes.
Diego shrugged. “He and his mate took the day off. I'm afraid you'll have to make do with us.”
“I see.”
Not good. Not good at all. Rafe tossed the remainder of his cup in the nearest trash bin and pasted a smile on his face before he approached the trio. “Hello, Ms. Garcia. I'm Rafael Santiago. It's nice to meet you.”
The moment she turned to meet his gaze, some instinct rang in his head, reverberating like a clarion bell until it almost ached. He blinked, struggling to fight through the exhaustion to decipher what his senses were telling him. Then it pierced his sleep-deprived mind, and he jolted in shock.
Mate
.
He froze, every muscle in his body locking tight.
“Hello.” She held out a slim, elegant hand for him to shake.
He could only stare at her, gaping like a fool. She let her hand hang there for a second, her expression growing stiffer. Her arm began to wilt to her side. Losing the chance to touch her finally spurred him into action. Thrusting his hand out, he wrapped his fingers around hers. The fine bones and soft skin absorbed his senses, and he drew in her scent, the heady aroma like a hit of opiates.
When their flesh met, her eyes widened. Yes, she felt it too, this incredible connection that snapped between them. Triumph bloomed within him, the need to claim a bone-jarring recognition of mating fever. A flash of utter horror sparked in her pale gaze and she dropped his hand as though he were diseased.
Stunned pain rocked through him at her sudden, unexpected rejection. His heart squeezed at this stranger's reaction, this woman who was supposed to be a perfect match for him.
She looked at the twins. “I need to collect my luggage.”
Not waiting for them to respond, she spun on a heel and marched away. The three men glowered at each other before following her. Rafe had no idea why his mate would be so upset about having found what she was apparently looking for, but it didn't stop the protective instincts that flared to life within him.
The tiredness fell away as energy and alertness pumped through his system. He'd crash again later, but for the moment, every fiber of his being was focused on the female who was walking away from him. He made his living observing people, finding out what made them tick, and then writing about it, but this time he wanted to know everything without the need to put pen to paper. Curiosity ate at him.
Who was she, really? Being an heir was only one piece of a person. Why was she unhappy to find a mate? What had put the shadows in her eyes, the sadness that seemed just below the surface?
He had to know.
She studiously avoided his gaze while they got her suitcases out to the car. Of course they'd picked her up in the Jeep, instead of the Pride's limousine. It was one more way to make sure she knew her Pride wasn't favored here, and that sent a punch of anger through Rafe. Her face was composed when she gracefully climbed into the backseat. The space was too tight when Rafe settled beside her, his shoulders wide enough to touch hers, his legs cramped enough to be bent and crowding into her.
“Sorry,” he said, but he didn't mean it. His body reacted as if lit by a live wire every time he brushed up against her. His cock stiffened uncomfortably, but there was no room to adjust his position.
“De nada.”
Her voice was a bit breathless, and he heard her swallow.
After that the car fell into silence. Even the exuberant Diego stared out the window and said nothing. Rafe ended up pressed to Teresa's side when the car turned a corner, and he drew back immediately, but not before he got a whiff of her arousal. It surprised him, and he looked over her calm features. The woman knew how to hide her emotions from the world, but a closer look revealed that her fingers twisted together in her lap, a fine trembling in her limbs.
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, and he felt that bone-deep connection again. For whatever reason, she didn't
want
to want him, but she did. And, God, but he wanted her too. The need was clawing at his insides. Resisting it was almost painful. He dropped his hand to the seat between them and subtly rubbed his knuckles against her thigh.

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