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Authors: Crystal Jordan

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BOOK: Prowl the Night
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Shivers still rippled over her skin a long time later. She dropped her forehead to his shoulder and sighed. The musk of sex permeated the air, and their combined scents filled her nose as she panted for breath. It smelled . . . right. It felt perfect, and that scared her to death. This wasn't
right
. She knew what kind of pain mating could cause. She'd seen how wrong it could go. Her brother still spent most of his days in a mindless stupor because of his problems with finding a mate.
She didn't want this. She'd never wanted this. It had only been an excuse to come to the summit, and a part of her had been so sure, so absolutely certain that she wouldn't find a mate on her tour. Fate wouldn't do that to her, not after what it had done to Enrique.
But it appeared Fate was a spiteful bitch when it came to the Garcia family.
2
“I
need a shower.”
Rafe groaned and eased his weight from where he was crushing her into the wall. It had been mind-blowing. His fangs had extended to the point that they scored his lower lip. He'd damn near bitten her, marked her as his. The urge had been so powerful, it still made him shake. He'd known his share of lovers, but this possessiveness was totally foreign to him.
Teresa looked everywhere except at him as she scooted around him to walk toward the bedroom. He narrowed his eyes at her retreating back. Should he give her space now to try to sort through this insane connection? He'd have given anyone else space, but the Panther in him flatly refused to be separated from its mate so soon after their first time together. “I'll join you. I could use a shower myself.”
She shot him a fulminating glance over her shoulder, but what could she do? Kick him out right after sex? Her scent was all over him, and if she hoped to be discreet, she didn't want him walking around this way. He agreed with discretion. The imperative for mating and breeding new Panthers to save their race from extinction meant there was enormous societal pressure once news circulated that mates had found each other but remained unclaimed. Her reactions so far said she didn't want that kind of attention any more than he did. So, she had to keep him around a bit longer. He grinned at her and followed her through her room and into the bathroom.
The room was plush, which befitted her status as a visiting Pride heir. Good. After Diego and Ric's behavior, Rafe had thought they might stick her in a basement closet. His Pride leader, Antonio, had always struck him as a sensible man, and Rafe was glad that had won out over rancor for the European Pride.
Cold tile made his toes curl when he got to the bathroom, and he watched her sort through a small basket of toiletries Eva must have provided. Teresa unwrapped a new bar of soap and plucked out a few bottles of what he assumed were shampoo and conditioner. She carried everything toward the shower, reached in to spin the knobs, and turned on the hot water. It was a pleasure to watch her move. She was a beautiful woman, curved in all the right places.
“You really are lovely, Teresa.” The words were out of his mouth before he thought better of it.
He caught a glimpse of the surprise in her gray gaze as she glanced over her shoulder at him. “Thank you. I like the way you look, too.”
“I guess that's how it's supposed to be with mates.”
Her shoulders hunched a bit. “We aren't mated.”
“Yet.” He couldn't help a smile at her low hiss. She threw him a narrowed glance, and something about that struck him, but he wasn't sure what. Her body positioning, the look in her gray eyes. Something. “I've seen you before.”
She arched an eyebrow and gave him a look reserved for simpletons. “Before when? We just saw each other in the bedroom, the car, the airport . . .”
“Oh, funny girl.” He rolled his eyes and watched her struggle to hold back a grin. Good. He wanted to see her smile. “I meant I've seen you before
today
. I visited Spain once before when I was about eighteen.”
Dios,
that had been nineteen years ago. Teresa would have been maybe ten or eleven—not even old enough to shift yet, since that ability hit right around puberty. It explained why he hadn't sensed who she was to him then.
Tilting her head, she squinted at him. “Yes, I think I recall the incident. You didn't even stay long enough for dinner, but we didn't get a lot of foreign visitors. Not teenagers, anyway.”
“It was my only trip to Europe until Antonio came to power.” The memory crystallized, and he remembered walking out of the Pride leader's office and glancing up. The gray-eyed urchin had been peering over a balcony to get a peek at him. She must look like her mother, because he would never have guessed that the little girl was related to the man who'd spent an hour grilling him about what the trip to European territory would accomplish.
“Oh? Why is that?” She stepped under the shower spray, holding the door open for him to come in with her.
The honest curiosity in her expression warmed him. He was used to people being interested in what he did—travel writing was an unusual career for humans and unheard of for Panthers—but considering how she'd avoided even looking at him after they'd had sex, it was nice that she was intrigued by him. He sure as hell wanted to know everything about her. “Antonio's father, Esteban, was less than approving of what I do for a living.”
“Travel journalism. I've read your collections of stories.” She shrugged and leaned her head back to let the water run through her ebony hair. “They were good books.”
He smiled down at her. She'd read his work. She'd
liked
it. “I'm flattered.”
Shrugging, she turned her face into the shower, and he stepped close behind her to catch some of the spray. The hot water made him sigh. When was the last time he'd had a bath? A bed big enough to fit his height? Months, probably. He didn't mind roughing it, but that meant he treasured the modern conveniences and comforts when he could get them.
“It's strange for a Panther to go as many places as you do, to live outside the Prides, but not be an outcast.” Her expression turned considering. “Most wouldn't choose that life.”
“It's what I love. I did a year of foreign exchange in England, which is why I visited your Pride, and then I took a road trip around the U.S. after I finished my senior year at Stanford. The travel bug bit me, and I haven't stopped since.” He grabbed the bar of soap, working up a lather between his palms before he handed it to her. Her slick skin sliding against his, even in so innocent a touch, made his body react, and he had to focus to keep up the thread of the conversation. “Esteban was willing to negotiate one extended trip to each continent for me, but for the most part I've spent all my time in Africa.”
“Because he didn't have to negotiate when Africa had no Pride to rule it.” Her response was immediate. Of course, the politics would catch her attention. She was an heir.
“Right, and since then Antonio has been willing to make a few concessions to other leaders in order for me to travel everywhere.” He'd loved it, too. Going wherever the assignment offers took him, no longer having to limit himself for the sake of complex Panther policies that his very human editors didn't understand.
Her brows drew together as she absentmindedly rubbed shampoo in her hair. “I've enjoyed my trip to each Pride, but I doubt I'll get to do much travel outside of the Panther world. Heirs don't have those luxuries.”
The water raining over her breasts, through her hair, down her naked flesh broke any concentration he had in the conversation. He stepped forward, well into her space, and lowered his voice to a purr. “I could show you places that would blow your mind. Haven't you ever wanted to see the sun rise over the Himalayas? Swim naked in Tahiti?”
Her breath caught and her pupils dilated as her gaze focused on his lips. “I . . . I . . .”
Reaching out, he let the tip of one finger follow the trail of a single droplet of water, down her neck, dipping into the hollow at her collarbone, slipping between her lush breasts. “You'd be as wet as you are now. Wetter. Just for me. Wouldn't you, Teresa?”
“We shouldn't . . .”
The steam in the shower surrounded them, caressed them. Her eyes blazed to silver, then swirled with the pure gold of her feline side. He could smell how damp her sex had grown. It made his cock hard enough to throb with the need to be inside her. He let his finger slide down into her navel, over the lower curve of her belly, and into the soft thatch of hair between her legs. “What shouldn't we do? Isn't this what you came here for? The twins said this was your mating tour, disguised as an ambassadorial visit.”
She laughed and moaned at the same time as he pushed his fingers into her wet cleft, teasing the slick lips he found there, the hard little clit. “No, this is an ambassadorial visit disguised as a mating tour.”
“I don't understand.” He paused for a second, trying to push the lust away long enough to sort that out in his head.
She killed any hope of that when she wrapped her fingers around his cock and pumped him in her hand. “The distinction is family politics rather than Pride politics.”
“Okay.” He'd figure it out later. Right now, he had more pressing matters to contend with. Like having his mate as often as possible.
Dipping forward, he licked along her bottom lip. Her grip on his cock tightened, and she moaned. He took her mouth, shoving his tongue inside to capture her flavor. Sweet, so sweet. At the same time, he pinched her clit and she squirmed in response. He liked making her squirm. He liked it a lot.
One of her hands stroked up and down his shaft, while she ran the thumb of her other hand over the head of his cock, pausing to rub the sensitive underside. A purr soughed from his throat and he shuddered, thrusting his hips forward to add to the sensation. The water pouring over them only increased the intensity of the moment. It felt like hundreds of hot fingers slid down his skin, and her touch on his dick made him groan.
Twisting his hand, he forced her thighs farther apart and delved deeper into her sex. The plush lips were swollen and soft, slick with a moisture the shower hadn't made. She whimpered against his lips, shoving her tongue into his mouth to twine with his. Her hips moved with his hand, and he moved with hers, locked together in a carnal dance with only one end. Her wetness coated his fingers as he pushed three digits into her pussy. The scent of her was addicting. He had to have her, craved that connection with her in a way he'd never craved it with anyone before. Mate. The recognition of it roared through his blood.
He jerked away from her, pulling his fingers from her channel. She hissed, her eyes now pure gold. “Don't stop!”
Grinning at her feral reaction, he grabbed her shoulders and spun her to face the tiled wall of the shower. Pressing himself to her back, he shoved his thigh between hers, widening her stance so his cock could slide over her pussy from behind. “Stop? I wouldn't dream of it.”
“Good.” Her voice was clipped, her low feline growl almost drowned out by the pounding shower spray.
He reached around her, slipping his palm down her wet flesh until he could toy with her clit again. She cried out when he stabbed his cock deep into her pussy.
“Dios.”
The feel of her was as close to heaven as he'd ever been. It was as terrifying as it was intoxicating, how just being near her reached into his soul and grabbed onto something he hadn't even known was there.
Flicking his fingers over her clit, he made her writhe against him. He trailed his free hand up to cup her breast, squeezing the soft curve. The rain of hot water over them sealed them together, increased the friction everywhere their skin met. He could feel her responses deep within, the subtle clench and release of her pussy each time he caressed her most sensitive flesh. She twisted in his embrace, a scream ripping from her when he thrust his cock to the hilt and pinched her nipple hard.
He bent forward to kiss the nape of her neck, holding her tighter to him, loving the feel of her, the steam, the shower. All of it. He savored this experience, this moment, as he did with everything in his life. It's what made him so good at his job, and that level of revelry in the unknown was nothing compared to this. Fucking her hard, he trailed kisses across the back of her shoulder and up the side of her throat to her ear.
Sucking the lobe between his lips, he flicked it with his tongue and nipped at it with his teeth. Her hips shoved back to take him deeper, and he could feel her grow slicker. She liked this, and her pleasure made him burn. She moaned, tilting her head to give him greater access. Taking advantage, he released her ear and moved his mouth down her neck to the tender spot at the base of her throat. The sounds she made when he suckled the tendon there made his fangs erupt from his gums. God, it was all he could do not to come then and there. His mate brought out his basest and most animal instincts. Mate. Yes. He dug his fangs into her flesh, a rough request. He wanted to mark her. The Panther within him made the need nearly unstoppable.
“No,” she gasped, shrugging her shoulder to try to push him away.
He growled, his fangs scoring deeper, but some small bit of human sanity held him back, refused to let him take what was not freely offered. He would never,
could
never, do that to her. Not his mate. Releasing his grip on her skin, he groaned.
To distract himself from what the Panther wanted, he focused on the sheer physicality of their joining. The way her wet sex clung to his harder flesh, the glide of water over their bodies, the way they moved together. Her moans when he fucked her pussy. The building tension in her body that told him how close she was to orgasm.
“Rafe!” Her voice went high and thin, and he rolled his finger over her clit, knowing she needed more to go over the edge.
He wouldn't disappoint her.
Slamming his cock deep, he ground his pelvis against her and roughly fondled her clitoris. A Panther's shriek jerked out of her, and her inner muscles flexed on his dick. Over and over again as she came apart in his arms. He loosed his own reaction, letting the feline free only as orgasm dragged him under. His fluids jetted inside her and he shuddered as something deeper than ecstasy ripped through his system.
BOOK: Prowl the Night
4.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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