Читать книгу Untamed - Crystal Jordan - Страница 8

Delilah Chase perched on the corner of the building, her hand braced on the ledge in front of her as she swept her gaze over the city below. From ninety stories up, it looked clean, beautiful, an ocean of multicolored lights against pure ebony.

But Delilah knew the truth. Up close, it was gritty, dirty, and dangerous. A place where someone like her flourished.

She grinned and let the adrenaline humming through her body take over. Her claws slid forward, scraping against the slick metal ledge. She ran her tongue down a long fang, her smile widening. It was always this way when she was on a job. Half cool, calm professionalism, half unadulterated thrill seeking.

Schooling herself to patience, she tilted her wrist and checked her chrono. A few more minutes and the virus she’d seduced a young computer techie into feeding into the building’s security system would kick in. She’d have a quarter of an hour to get in, steal the priceless ruby her client wanted, and get out again.

Kitten’s play, this job.

Still, every case had its risks, and the moment a thief got too cocky was the moment they slipped up. If all went well, by the end of the night, multitrillonaire Hunter Avery would be missing a gem and Delilah would have a sizeable commission in her encrypted cred account. So, things had better go well. She gauged the distance between the skyrise she stood on and the one she needed to break into. Tricky, very tricky. Timing was everything. The lynx within her purred at the challenge.

This was going to be fun.

Balconies circled the entire penthouse. Not surprising a family of red-tailed hawks would build the glass and mercurite sanctuary for themselves in the middle of the city. High enough they couldn’t see the grime of the real people below.

The newsvids had reported on every aspect of the Avery family’s lives for as long as she’d been alive. Their fortune was one of the few to survive the Third Great War, which made them newsvid darlings, beautiful people in an ugly world.

Delilah had heard all about it when Hunter’s parents were killed in a tragic industrial accident. A few years after that, Hunter’s uncle died, and Hunter had all but disappeared from public view. The buzz on the street whispered that Hunter had done the killing himself, his mind twisted from seeing his parents’ death. A bitter little smile curled Delilah’s lips. Figures that he’d get away with murder. The rich always did.

Now, Hunter was practically a recluse in his tower penthouse, only allowing a trusted few in for business purposes and only leaving for a few business meetings or high-society parties a year. This meant conning her way in wouldn’t work, so breaking in was her best option. Her client said Avery was in Los Angeles at a board meeting and wouldn’t be home until the next day. Her intel had confirmed it, so tonight was the night to get what her client wanted.

If a tiny part of her was curious to see the inside of the Averys’ ivory tower and got a malicious thrill from stealing from the richest man alive, she’d never admit it to anyone else.

Her chrono vibrated against her wrist, letting her know the window of opportunity had opened. Reaching behind her, she pulled her grappler gun out of her knapsack, aimed it at the balcony railing, and fired. A gossamer-thin strand of mercurite shot from each end to form molecular bonds with the railings on both buildings. She flipped a setting so the grappler would move along the wire. Taking a breath, she said a quick prayer that the virus worked and she wasn’t about to get fried by the security field that electrocuted any unauthorized life-forms attempting to enter.

Then she tightened her grip on the grappler, jumped, and let gravity carry her down the wire with a soundless rush of speed and wind. Her heightened vision took in every detail as she went. She knew the exact moment something started to go wrong. The mercurite was designed to dissolve after one use. It left no evidence behind. The wind was especially intense this evening, and she might just reach the end of that one use before she reached the other building.

Shit, shit, shit.

Heart pounding so loud in her ears it drowned out everything else, she tilted her feet forward and hoped for greater speed. Tensing every muscle as she hit the perfect spot in her downward flight, she kicked her legs hard. She swung up and around the wire, launching herself into the sky. The cable slackened, and she knew it was no more than silver powder beneath her. She twisted midair, flipping until she landed lighter than a cat’s paw on the edge of the railing. Triumph rushed through her, making her grin. Perfect.

She loved it when a plan came together. Almost as much as she loved it when the plans went awry and she had to think on her feet. It was why she was the very best at what she did.

Stepping down onto the balcony, she turned to make sure she’d left no evidence of her passing. The shoes she wore were specifically designed not to leave a distinct footprint. Cost a load of creds, but totally worth it. A quick brush of her fingers across the railing and what was left of the mercurite cable dispersed into metallic dust that swirled away in the gale-force breeze of New Chicago. She’d thicken the wire’s setting and shoot another one across when she needed to leave, but there was no need to advertise while she was here. She wasn’t the only predator who could see in the dark.

And everyone was a predator.

She knew it, and so did everyone else. It made life more dangerous and a whole lot more exciting than it had been before the war. Biological warfare early in the twenty-first century ripped the planet apart. What scientists never expected was the effect long-term exposure to their weapons would have on humans. It twisted their genes, morphed them into shape-shifters.

Jungle cats, bears, wolves, birds of prey, every imaginable predator on the planet. No one knew why, but the chemicals brought out the most feral instincts in mankind. Nearly a century later, everyone accepted that inside each human lurked an animal, a beast who might take control at any moment. It meant Delilah had to be even more careful not to get caught. A small sigh slid past her lips. Her ancestors had it so much easier when they tried to steal something.

Then again, if it was easy, it wouldn’t be so much fun.

The balcony door was laughably easy to get through. The problem with most people was they assumed if their security system was expensive enough that they didn’t have to take care of the simple protections for their property.

Stupid, but their mistake was her gain.

She slipped inside the penthouse and froze for long, precious moments. Every feline sense went on alert for any movement, any noise.

Nothing.

Even if there was someone here, it wouldn’t stop her. She had a nasty little surprise she used on those who interrupted her work. She slid her hand into her vest, running the pad of her thumb over the trigger of a tiny, pressurized canister of poison. It wouldn’t kill them, but it left them with nothing but a headache to remember her by.

Creeping forward, she eased into the master bedroom where this particular hawk kept his treasures. A bit of digging had turned up the fact that his safe had been installed along the west wall. There was a painting large enough to cover a safe hanging on the wall. Picasso. Original, too, unless she missed her guess—and she rarely did. A pity she didn’t have any way to take it with her. It would fetch an excellent price with several of her regular clients. In fact, most of the decorations in this penthouse would bring in more than a few creds.

Her eyebrows arched and she gave a low, appreciative hum. “Prime.”

Business must be even better for Avery than the buzz said, because the whole penthouse was a study in the rare and valuable. Polished wooden floors when most people had concrete, marble sculptures and ancient artifacts sat in precise arrangements on mercurite and polyglass furniture. The man’s bed was wide enough for ten and draped in deep blue microsilk.

What she wouldn’t give for a few hours to take her pick from Hunter’s collection, but a glance at her chrono made it clear she didn’t have time to admire the man’s pretty toys. Slipping her bag of tools off her shoulder, she set to work disarming the safe.

The Windy City was the best place to fly. The breeze that kept Lake Michigan at a constant ripple swirled around Hunter as he skimmed above the water in his hawk form. He stretched his wings further, pulling out of his glide to spiral higher and higher in the night sky. The wind cut sharper up there, whipped at his body. It was one of the few times he was free, the stink of the city and the weight of his responsibilities falling away as he soared into the moonlit clouds.

He glanced down at glittering metal and glass cityscape of New Chicago as it whizzed past. The Lakeshore District and the downtown areas of the city had been built over the graveyard of the old. Most of Chicago was reduced to rubble in the urban riots of the Third Great War, which had ended long before his birth. Many who lived before the war said New Chicago lacked the grace that history lends a city, but there was little left of the world that could be called graceful. Most people struggled to survive. He was one of the lucky ones, and even he had more than his share of problems. A heavy sigh slid from his throat.

The meeting with Pierce Vaughn hadn’t gone well. A wolf-shifter, the government agent was as ferocious and relentless when he pursued his prey as Hunter was. He liked that about the man, respected his judgment. Even so, Pierce had been trying to nail Tarek for over a year. A viper in every sense of the word, Tarek had done things that would make most humans’ stomachs revolt.

As Tarek’s biggest business rival, Hunter was a prime target for industrial espionage and sabotage. This last trip to Los Angeles had proven that someone was sabotaging his business efforts there. Both Pierce and he knew who was doing it; they just couldn’t prove it. Yet. But they would.

Privately, Hunter suspected the wolf kept him informed as a way to ensure he didn’t take the law into his own hands when he finally had undeniable proof of Tarek’s perfidy. Once he did, there was little Pierce could do to stop Hunter. He would relish ripping the viper apart, but he would wait until his suspicions were grounded in fact. If that meant Pierce and he had a relationship of mutual information sharing, then he was willing to listen. Each of them were in this for their own ends, and he respected that they were up front about it. No games, no toying with each other.

The arrangement worked for him.

Slow, deep beats of his wings carried him toward home. He wasn’t going to be able to outdistance the problems plaguing his mind, so he wouldn’t waste his energy trying. Frustration boiled through him. He was a patient man, but a year was too long for any rival to get the better of him.

Tarek. The viper-shifter redefined cutthroat, and his inability to beat Hunter and drain profits from Avery Industries had made their rivalry personal for the viper. Hunter snapped his beak. It was business; ruthless, cool-minded efficiency was the best approach to business decisions. Lack of objectivity was going to trip Tarek up sooner or later; Hunter just had to hold tight to his patience and wait for the best time to strike.

He had to admit it pleased him how galling it must be for Tarek that he hadn’t succeeded this time any better than he had in his other attempts at sabotage. Hunter had been attending an annual board meeting in Los Angeles when word of problems at a local manufacturing plant had reached him. He’d gone to investigate and found that someone had been caging half-starved illegal immigrants as slave labor. In his facility. It brought back nightmares of the last time an Avery plant had been used for criminal activity. His parents’ faces flashed through his mind, twisted in terror as they had been the last time he’d seen them. His stomach churned and he shoved the memories aside, as he always did.

He’d cleaned up the mess, fired the traitors who were obviously on Tarek’s payroll, let Pierce sort out the illegals, and returned home a day ahead of schedule. He was more than ready to enjoy the peace and solitude of his private tower. Circling slowly, he tucked in his wings to land on his balcony. He shifted quickly, heat vibrating through his muscles as they stretched and twisted into the shape of a man. Shrugging his shoulders to settle into the new form, he scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck.

The restless feeling that had eaten at him for weeks intensified. It wasn’t just the business problems—it was something deeper, something he couldn’t pin down. An instinct he had no name for. Not for the first time, he wished his father were still alive to ask. But he wasn’t. The only two people he’d ever trusted were dead and he was alone. Always alone. Anyone who met him now wanted something from him. He was nothing but a name, a fat cred account, and an opportunity. He didn’t bother reining in his disgust at the other man that he should have been able to trust. His uncle. Thankfully, that blight on the family tree had been cut away.

The only lesson his uncle had ever taught him was that there were worse things than being alone.

He was used to the loneliness, but this new instinct was something else. He tried to step back, to look at the unwanted and unwarranted feeling logically. The restlessness was new. But it was more than that. The unfamiliar instinct that crawled over his skin, like an itch he couldn’t reach. A foreboding of some kind? Some people claimed they could sense their own death, but…that didn’t sound right. Deus knew he’d had enough troubles lately. Deliveries going late or missing, a rash of fires, accidents that had become too common to be coincidence. He could lay it all at Tarek’s feet.

The only thing he knew about the instinct is it had nothing to do with business.

There his thoughts hit a wall. Nothing. He had no idea why or where the instinct came from or how to get rid of it. So, he did what he always did when he didn’t care for something…he pushed it away, distancing himself from what he couldn’t control.

He stepped into his flat, reaching for the pants he’d left lying over the chair by the door in his main space. Then a sound caught his attention. He froze and tilted his head, letting his extra senses take control.

There was someone in his home.

Rage ripped through him that someone would enter his domain uninvited. His hands balled into fists, hawk talons digging into his palms. The mood he was in, he welcomed the chance to shred an intruder with his bare hands. Then he’d let the hawk have its turn.

Anticipation hummed in his veins and a tight smile curved his lips as he left the pants where they were and followed the whisper-soft sound of movement coming from his bedroom.

A tall, thin young boy with baggy black cargo pants on and a padded vest covering his chest stuffed the Avery ruby into a bag slung over his shoulder. The jewel had been in his family since before the war—his mother had loved it and kept it on display. After she died, Hunter couldn’t look at it and had a safe built for it. Hunter’s nostrils flared as he throttled another wave of anger.

He glanced at the vid monitor that should be following anything that moved, but it stood frozen. The little bugger had disabled his security system and broken into his safe. His eyebrows arched; he was enraged and almost impressed despite himself. Almost. It wouldn’t stop him from teaching the boy a lesson and then having him thrown in prison.

No one took what belonged to an Avery.

Lunging through the door, he caught the thief around the waist and tumbled with him across the rug. Lightning-fast reflexes were all that kept Hunter from slamming the boy’s face into the floor. A snarling, distinctly feline hiss issued from the body beneath him. Shit. A cat.

The boy lashed back with his foot, almost catching Hunter in the balls. He moved his leg to block just in time, sucking in a sharp breath. The kid scrambled away, swinging out a blind hand. A soft snick sounded and Hunter caught the skinny wrist just before a white powder spewed into the air. He held the breath he’d taken and twisted the boy’s limb until he arched against the painful hold and cried out.

“Drop it,” Hunter growled. The kid tried to kick him again, and he retaliated by jabbing his fingertips into the boy’s ribs. His breath whooshed out, but Hunter felt the vest harden to prevent further attack. Body armor. Expensive stuff. He should know; Avery Industries invented it.

The kid gagged on a breath and the canister with the noxious powder hit the wood floor with a sharp ping. Grabbing the boy by the scruff of the neck, Hunter hauled him to his feet and backed him against the four-poster bed.

He noted two things at that moment. The first was that the boy was a woman; even with the vest, her slim curves molded to his front. The second was that the woman in question was his mate.

Double shit.

Shock made his grip loosen, and she took advantage, thrusting the heel of her palm into his solar plexus. He choked, sucking in air. He stumbled back, taking her with him as he hit the wood floor on his side. Sharp pain reverberated up his shoulder and into his brain. Reacting automatically, he rolled her beneath him and pinned her arms above her head. She hissed at him, bucking against his hold. He pressed his weight down to keep her still, but he couldn’t stop his body from reacting to his mate’s nearness. The moment his instincts had kicked in, every ounce of his awareness noticed her softness, her scent, her beauty. His cock went harder than a mercurite rod, and her squirming only made the situation worse.

His talons punched through his fingertips again, the hawk struggling for freedom. The deadly points pressed to her wrists, but he didn’t trust her enough to relax his grip. Her eyes widened and she froze. He noted the emerald shade of her irises, the ring of black that rimmed the green. Thick loops scored each ear; the rings appeared to be filled with phosphorescent liquid, and he’d wager that they glowed when she turned them on.

She was lovely. Those wide eyes dominated her face, tilting up exotically at the corners. Her pale blond hair was no more than a few centimeters long, but it looked soft to the touch. He wanted to find out.

He wanted to stroke all of her. He could feel every micrometer of her underneath him. She was tall for a woman. Tall enough that he’d mistaken her for a young man. Her body was slim, her legs long. They’d look good wrapped around his waist, or draped over his shoulders, or, hell, anywhere as long as it meant he could get inside her.

His cock throbbed, urging to fuck her, take her, claim her as his own. His instincts clamored an insistent agreement.

Mate.

He’d never imagined finding one. Only a few shifter species could sense their mates—those that mated for life. Red-tailed hawks, gray wolves, black vultures, condors, a few species of eagles. There weren’t many who did. It was only his poor luck to be among those species, the hawk’s instincts always seeking something the man preferred not to find.

But now he had.

His silent study of her had taken long enough that she fidgeted beneath him, her gaze wary. He smiled down at her, and the wariness turned to suspicion.

Well, she wasn’t stupid, he’d give her that. She should be suspicious. Now he had to figure out who she was and how to keep her here without revealing the truth about what she was to him. He wouldn’t give her the upper hand. Ever.

The vid monitor whirred softly, pointing at where they lay on the floor. His smile widened. “The game is up, kitten. Whatever you’ve done to disarm the system seems to have worn off. Your window of opportunity closed, didn’t it? Now I have your face scanned into my system. I bet if I send that to the police, they’ll know who you are without even running a check through the ident files. Won’t they?”

Her gaze flickered for the briefest of moments, and he knew he had her. He should probably feel guilty, but she had been robbing him. Those exotic green eyes narrowed to dangerous slits and she hissed at him again.

He ignored her ire and settled himself more comfortably against her, digging his talons a bit deeper into her wrists as he stretched her arms higher to press her body tighter to his. The feel of her was almost enough to cloud his mind with lust. If he relaxed his attention for even a moment, she was the kind of woman to take advantage. He respected that. He would do the same.

Then again, she was supposed to fit him perfectly.

And that was a thought he didn’t want. He wasn’t interested in becoming dependent on anyone. He knew how it could gut a person to lose those that mattered most. Despite his parents’ loving relationship, mates were for breeding, nothing more. That’s all she would be used for, and she would be comfortably kept for her efforts.

“Tell me your name.” His gaze bored into hers. “One way or another, I’ll find it out.”

Tugging at her hands, she shot him a fulminating glare when she couldn’t break his grip. “Delilah.”

His lips twitched against his will, amusement winding through him as he gave her short blond locks a pointed look. “I thought Delilah cut off Samson’s hair, not her own.”

“Hilarious.” A derisive snort underscored her disgust.

“You’ve heard that before?”

Her eyes widened theatrically. “No, not once. You’re so original and clever. Really prime.”

“Thank you.” He pretended not to notice her sarcasm. “And your surname?”

He could hear her teeth grind together before she spat, “Chase.”

“Delilah Chase. Lovely to meet you. I’m Hunter Avery.” He knew her name, and that was one objective down. Now to force her to stay.

“I know who you are, Hunter.” The sound of his name on her lips sent a peculiar warmth winding through his chest. No one called him Hunter anymore. He was “Mr. Avery” or simply “Avery” to anyone who addressed him. Once he’d taken his father’s place in the company, he’d ended up with his title as well, for all that he was only sixteen at the time. He pushed away the thought, struggling to stay focused for the first time in his life.

Delilah squirmed again, twisting at her captured wrists. He could all but hear the gears spinning in her head as she calculated how to get out of her current predicament. Her body softened beneath him, her legs lifting to clasp his hips. So that was the way she wanted to play it? He fought a grin. She couldn’t make this easier for him if she tried.

“I’m certain, if we really want to, we can come to a…mutually beneficial arrangement to resolve this issue.” When she tilted her hips up to rub her sex against his, he had no idea how it was possible, but his cock grew even harder as he settled into the crux of her slender thighs. Fire fisted in his belly, spreading until he thought his body would explode out of his skin. He wanted her. Every part of him craved her. A knowing little smile curved the corners of her full lips, and something close to triumph flashed in her green eyes when he couldn’t stop himself from thrusting against her softness.

“An arrangement?” He slid his tongue over his teeth. “You might be right about that.”

“What did you have in mind?” she purred. Her grin widened. He allowed her that small moment of victory before he smiled back. With teeth.

“You, in my bed.” He stroked the pad of his thumb over the inside of her wrist. The skin there was soft, warm. He wanted to explore the rest of her and see if all of her felt as good. “In exchange, I won’t alert the authorities to your little breach of my security system. Then the ruby stays with me, and you’re free to go.”

“I think I can handle some time in your bed.” She glanced over his shoulder to the wide mattress. Her shoulder lifted in a delicate shrug, her grin never wavering. “It looks comfortable enough.”

He waited a beat. “The deal is for a full week of your time.”

“A week?” Wariness slid over her expression again, the smile winking out as though it had never been.

“It’s a very valuable ruby.” He lifted his eyebrows. “Maybe it’s worth a bit long—”

“A week is fine.” Her lips lifted in a snarl; she was obviously not pleased by this new turn of events. Her fangs slid out of her gums. “How do you know I won’t kill you in your sleep?”

Easing his grip on her arms, he moved away from her to sit back on his heels. “They’d catch that on vid, too, wouldn’t they?”

“You’d still be dead.” Raising herself up to her elbows, she didn’t try to escape.

He rolled his shoulder in a shrug, rising to his feet. “Some things are worth the risk, kitten.”

Sliding his gaze down her body, he let it heat with appreciation. Her mouth formed a moue as she sat up and rubbed her wrists. His talons had left red marks on her creamy skin, and he felt an unprecedented pinch of remorse. It must be the mating thing. He rarely regretted anything he did—he planned too well for that to be a problem.

She leveled him a frank look. “I don’t know what your kink is, but if you think for a nanosecond that you get to hurt and humiliate me, you’re going to find yourself gutted like a fish.” She slid out her razor-sharp claws to emphasize her point. “That isn’t part of our deal.”

“I don’t hurt women.” His gaze was drawn to the redness around her wrists and he fought a wince. “Usually.”

“Just coerce them into having sex with you?” She shot him an incredulous look as she pushed to her feet.

He let a little grin kick up the side of his mouth. “When the situation warrants it.”

“How do I know you won’t go back on your word and turn me in after you have what you want?” Her blond brows rose, and she propped a hand on her hip.

He chuckled. “Believe it or not, I keep my word. You’ll just have to decide if it’s worth the risk.”

“Fine.” Her hands relaxed at her sides, and she made no move to leave.

“Good. You can start now.” He stepped back to settle into a comfortable chair. He steepled his fingers together and pressed them to his lips, watching to see what she would do. It was easier if she stayed by choice, but he wasn’t above keeping her by force. He did have her on vid, as he’d said. He was sure he could have her found if he needed to. It would be an inconvenience he didn’t want or need. Having a mate at all was an inconvenience he didn’t want or need. A humorless smile formed on his lips. “Strip.”

Shrugging, she slid her nail in the seal of her armored vest, and it parted down the middle. Dipping a narrow shoulder, she let it fall to the floor. Then she pulled a tight, long-sleeved shirt over her head. Her breasts were high and firm. The nipples were a soft pink, and he wanted to suck them into his mouth until they darkened to raspberry. The thought alone was enough to make his cock jump. Her gaze locked on that portion of his anatomy as she unsealed her pants and pushed them down her legs. Her hips were a small flare from her waist, her body long, lean, and willowy.

When she bent to unfasten her shoes and remove the last of her clothing, he saw that a green dragon nanotat, which matched her eyes, wound around her ribs and up her back. The tattoo moved beneath her skin, the beast looking real. Another nanotat, this one a small monarch butterfly, fluttered on one hip. A tiny gem sparkled from her navel. Interesting. He wanted to tug on it with his teeth and see if she gasped. He wanted to lick the tats, slide his tongue over every delicious micrometer of her smooth body.

Anticipation made his heart pound and his cock ache, but he schooled himself to patience. He was very good at waiting for the right moment to act.

She stepped toward him, her body a study in feline grace, the light kissing her skin as she moved. When she was within a meter of him, he held up his hand. “Stop.”

A pale brow lifted at the command, but she obeyed. She slipped a fingertip down her cleavage, around her belly button, and over the butterfly nanotat. “Does the pretty birdie just want to watch? I can put on a very good show.”

Her smile and her movements were too practiced. He didn’t want to be seduced as he was sure she’d done with other men. They might have been satisfied with that, but he was her mate. He wanted her genuine reaction.

And he would have it. Now.

Crooking his finger, he had her bend toward him. When she was within reach, he bracketed her jaw in his fingers, holding her in place. She went rigid, her muscles tensing. His lips brushed over hers gently, and he could feel her tiny jolt of surprise.

Her eyes fluttered closed as he licked his way into her mouth, and he shut his eyes to focus on the flavor of her. His mate. His tongue twined with hers, and the taste of her sank into his senses. He’d never rid his mouth or memory of the essence of her, some instinct locking it in forever.

He let his free hand skim over her shoulder, his fingertips brushing her collarbone before slipping down to the upper slope of her breast. He cupped the curve, rubbing the pad of his thumb over her velvety crest. A grunt of pleasure came from his chest as he was rewarded by the tightening of her nipple. The little point stabbed into his palm, and he flicked his nail over it. She made a tiny noise in the back of her throat, set her hands on his naked thighs, and raked her teeth over his lower lip.

The scent of her wetness reached his nostrils, and he bit back a smile. Didn’t think he could turn her on, did she? This wasn’t going to be a duty she suffered through.

Then her fingers slipped up his leg to wrap around his dick. He groaned at the contact, her touch enough to make his thoughts evaporate into nothingness. It was a reaction he’d never had with a woman before. He didn’t like her effect on him so soon, yet he wanted more.

He broke the kiss, his chest heaving with each breath. Clinging to his control by the thinnest thread, he pulled her hand away from him. He wanted it wild and possessive, but he wanted her with him every moment of the ride. Everything within him screamed with the need to claim. The woman was his, whether she knew it or not, whether she accepted it or not. She’d just have to get used to it.

So would he.

Shaking away the disturbing thought, he forced his mind to focus on the task at hand. Fucking his mate for the first time. He sank to his knees before her, lifting one of her legs over his shoulder.

She wavered on her foot, but the cat kept her balance. “Wh-what are you doing?”

He just flashed her a wicked grin, set his mouth against her sex, and licked.

She screamed, high and thin, standing on tiptoe to get away from his mouth, but her fingers fisted in his hair, holding him to her. He chuckled against her clit, and she moaned.

The sweetness of her flooded his tongue, and he drank the wetness that coated her sex. He worked her with his lips, teeth, and tongue…suckling, tasting, biting gently. He cupped her ass in his palms, pulling her closer to him. She gasped, the muscles in her legs shaking against him. Her pussy contracted around his tongue, her cream slipping over his taste buds.

“I-I…Hunter, Hunter, Hunter!”

Hearing her scream his name made lust burn through him, made his cock harden to the point of pain. If he didn’t get inside her soon, he was going to explode. He hummed against her clit, nipping at the little nub. He moved one hand up her thigh until he could stroke her damp lips and ease his finger into her tight pussy. He added a second digit, loving the snug clasp of her inner walls. Her hands tugged on his hair as he began pumping his fingers inside her. Hard.

The frantic sounds she made told him exactly how close she was to orgasm, and he worked her faster and faster with his hand and mouth. He wanted to feel her come against his lips, wanted to taste her satisfaction. Pulling his fingers from her pussy, he trailed the moisture to her anus and teased the rim of the small pucker.

“Hunter…” She shuddered in his arm, her hips pressing back into his hand.

He bit her clit and sank his thumb into her ass. She screamed as she came hard. He continued to move his tongue and fingers over her, in her, until she moaned and pulled at his hair. Her hands closed over his shoulders, pushing weakly. He chuckled, licking and suckling. The taste of her would drive him mad.

With sudden force, she shoved him back and toppled him onto the area rug. He frowned as his back hit the floor. “This isn’t what—”

“I don’t care.” Passion flushed her face and made her eyes sparkle. “I want to fuck you right now, and I’m not going to wait until you’re ready. Deal with it.”

He grinned, folded his arms behind his head, and licked her wetness from his lips with relish. “Then by all means, have your way with me.”

She laughed, a low husky sound that made his cock throb. “I will.”

Straddling his hips, she positioned her herself above him and closed her fingers around his dick to stroke the shaft. She rubbed the head over her slick lips. He gritted his teeth until they ached, the muscles in his neck cording as he fought the need to slam home into her tight heat.

She sank down on him slowly, squirming and twisting her hips until he was encased in her pussy.

Perfect. Deus, it was fucking perfect.

His hands lifted to cup her pert breasts, his thumbs chafing her dusky pink nipples until they were tight and flushed. Her hips rolled against his, lifting and lowering herself on his cock. The slickness between her legs coated his shaft, and the glide was so smooth he had to laugh.

Bracing her hands on his chest, she leaned forward to change the angle of his penetration. He groaned, arching between her slim thighs to rock his pelvis into hers. She shuddered, her claws extending to dig into his pecs. He grinned. “Watch the claws, kitten.”

She blinked and withdrew them. “Ah. Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“A little scratching from a pretty she-cat isn’t even enough to qualify as real pain.” He rolled his hips, grinding his teeth to keep from coming before she did.

He’d never had to fight so hard for control in his life. It was unsettling, but he didn’t have the time or attention to spare to examine it.

She clenched her inner muscles around his cock and laughed when he groaned. The sound hit his chest like a blow, and watching her face light up and her eyes dance with mirth made it difficult to breathe. Deus, he wasn’t going to last much longer. Reaching between them, he extended his talons and flicked the tip of one over her hardened clit.

She jolted, orgasm strumming through her body. Her wetness sealed their bodies together at one central point as she arched. Her thighs locked tight, and he knew he’d never in his life forget the look of ecstasy that swept over her face just then. A low cry spilled from her lips, and her pussy milked the length of his cock as she came. Retracting his talon, he worked her clit with a fingertip, dragging more from her.

“Hunter!”

His name on her lips broke his control. He bracketed her hips with his hands, flipping her underneath him so they were half on the carpet and half on the wooden floor. She gasped at the quick movements, but he was beyond caring about anything except the drive toward orgasm.

Catching her wrists in one hand, he held them over her head and pinned them to the floor. His hips bucked hard, driving deep inside her sweet heat. It felt so damn good, he was going to go off like a biobomb.

His jaw locked as she arched under him, her beaded nipples rubbing against his chest. Their mingling scents combined with the musk of sex and sweat in the room, dragged out the primal hungers, and the hawk fought for dominance within him. He slammed his cock into her over and over again, no finesse, no concern for her comfort, just the white-hot need to come inside his mate’s soft body. But her long legs clamped around his flanks, lifting her into his thrusts. Her voice chanted in his ear, calling his name, urging him on.

That was all it took to send him flying, to push him higher than he’d ever been in his life. Her pussy clenched around his cock again, and she hissed as she shattered in his arms. His fingers bit into her wrists, his back bowing as he came in powerful jets inside her.

“Delilah,” he breathed. Shudders racked his body as he released her hands and sank down on top of her. He buried his nose in her throat, inhaling the fragrance of her with each ragged breath.

She flung her arm around the back of his neck, panting. Her legs relaxed, her thighs falling open against the floor. His cock slid from her pussy, and he grunted. He knew he’d want her again. Soon.

First, he should probably get them both up and off the floor. A self-deprecating smile curved his lips. Certainly not how he could have ever contemplated taking his mate the first time. Then again, he’d never imagined having one—hadn’t even wanted one. But she was here now and he had to deal with her.

He gathered her against his chest and stood. She stirred when he laid her on the bed, yawning catlike. “I should…”

“No, you shouldn’t.” Crawling onto the microsilk sheets next to her, he pulled her back into his arms. “You’re here for a week. Stay there.” He settled against her, throwing his thigh over hers. “Sleep.”

She sighed, a little purr rumbling in her chest. Her body relaxed into boneless sleep. It was amazing how felines could do that. He let out a slow breath, stroking his fingertips down her side. The restlessness that had ridden him for weeks had dissipated, and his muscles loosened by degrees, his eyes sliding closed. If he was taking the wrong risk and she gutted him in his sleep, at least he’d die having had the best sex of his life.

Not a bad exit strategy.