He tugged her top up to expose her breasts. Moonlight spilled into the car, lending her skin a silvery glow. Her nipples were already puckered. He bent and kissed first one, and then the other. She arched her back, wove her fingers into his hair, and murmured in Irish. Her hips thrust rhythmically as he suckled her and he sensed her increasing arousal. It stoked his own until he trembled on the edge of orgasm. It was as if everything he did to her amplified itself until he felt it in his own body.
Lars drew away and gazed down at Tamara. She gazed back, eyes liquid with need and warmth. Slowly, she reached between them, undid his pants, and drew his cock out. He felt her spread liquid heat around his exquisitely sensitive glans, and understood his own fluid had escaped. She gripped his shaft and milked it with her hand. So aroused he could barely contain himself, he reached down and laid his hand over hers. “I need to be inside you. If you keep that up, I will spend on your beautiful belly.”
“Such an old-fashioned word.” She helped him undo her pants and pushed them down so she could free one leg.
“Maybe I am an old-fashioned man.” Lars took hold of his cock and guided it between her legs until his cockhead seated firmly against her opening. She moaned, drew her legs up, and latched them around his back. He took his time pushing into her and savored every centimeter of him surrounded by her lush heat. When he hit bottom, he stopped moving and contracted his muscles until he felt an answering twitch from hers.
He supported himself on his arms and drank in her beauty. Ever so slowly, he began to move in tiny little circles. Her hips bucked beneath him; her head fell back on her graceful stalk of a neck. She made a grab for his hips and ground herself against his body. He felt her pussy convulse around him as she came and he rode through her peak alongside her, feeling her ecstasy in his heart. He wanted release, but he could wait. Pleasing her was everything. He’d never felt that way before. He’d always been a considerate lover, but he’d always been anxious to get up and get moving once sex was over with. The emotions cascading through him, where he wanted to shield Tamara, protect her from harm, hold her next to him forever, were something new.
Tamara made a satisfied, purring sound and clamped her muscles around him. She moved her hands off his body and cupped her breasts, twirling and teasing the nipples. Watching her touch herself was a game changer; it amped up his arousal to white heat. When she moved a hand to her mouth, licked her fingers, and placed them atop her mound, he almost forgot to breathe.
Gazing at her while she touched her nipple and her clit unraveled him. Control crumbled. He withdrew and slammed himself home, never taking his eyes from the show she put on for him. His balls tightened and snugged against his body. The deep blue of her eyes drew him in, and held him. “Yes, my love.” She met him stroke for stroke, breasts and cheeks splotched with lust. “Now. Come with me now.”
As if his body danced to her command, a powerful orgasm shuddered through him as her muscles contracted and released around his shaft. English abandoned him, so he murmured to her in German, telling her he adored her, that he’d care for her forever. He came back to himself gasping and panting atop her, with her arms and legs twined around his body.
“Amazing, incredible,” she crooned and stroked his back. “All that aside, learning German is at the top of my to-do list.”
He started to answer her, and then froze. “Ssht.” He pulled his cock from the heat of her body, collected his pants and dragged them over his still throbbing member. A moment later he reconsidered. His cat form was ideal for night work, much better than his gun. Clothes would only be an impediment.
“What is it?” She kept her voice low and gathered her own clothes.
“Hold off on those clothes. I heard a car.”
“But it’s the middle of the night.”
“Exactly.” He reached for his gun, loaded it just in case. He worked automatically, without needing eyes to see what he was doing. “Have you ever fought in your cat form?”
She nodded, her eyes round with apprehension. Lars listened intently. The car had slowed, but it was definitely closer and still moving toward them. Damn it! He’d left tire tracks in the sandy road. They would have been easy to follow. “Listen closely. This is what we shall do. I cannot leave you in the car. You would be a sitting duck.”
Chapter Twelve
Tamara shifted from paw to paw as she waited in a shadowed overhang about fifty human paces from the car. She could cover the distance in three or four easy leaps. Lars’ plan had been simple enough. They’d left the car open as a trap to draw whoever hunted them. It would allow them to determine how many men they had to deal with. If it was only two, Lars said he’d take them both, striking while they leaned inside the car. If it was more than that, they’d regroup. Fortunately, they could communicate telepathically in cat form, something she already knew. Lars had told her it was possible in their human forms as well, but there hadn’t been time to go into any deeper explanations.
She sensed him across from her, still as death, waiting. Cats were excellent predators because they could stay so motionless their prey never knew what hit them. Tamara felt a growl form deep in her chest and swallowed it. Her cat was thrilled by the turn of events; Tamara wasn’t so sure, but she would do whatever she had to. Lars was shaping up to be the man of her dreams, the love of her life. No way would she lose him now. She pictured him above her, making love to her, and her vulva twitched.
Not now. She dug her claws into the dirt as a distraction. A car engine got louder and then stilled. She tried to pinpoint its location and determined it had to be somewhere behind the SUV, but on the same dirt road Lars had taken. Car doors opened, but she didn’t hear them close. Maybe two, maybe three. It was hard to tell when sounds happened at the same time.
Footsteps pounded their way. “There are three,” Lars informed her just about the time she’d come to the same conclusion.
“What do you want to do?”
“Wait till they get closer and I can see what kind of firepower they are packing.”
Of course they wouldn’t come empty handed. Tamara’s cat wanted to leap forward, tear their fucking throats out. What was a bullet or two? Shifters had excellent restorative magic. She kept her cat in line by reminding it Lars was calling the shots. Her cat adored Lars, so it seemed to do the trick.
The men moved cautiously forward. They must have had some sort of communications devices that amplified their voices, but only for one another. She might not have heard them if she’d been human; as it was, every word was crystal clear.
“You sure this is the car?”
“Yeah. Plates match what our hacker picked up off the car rental site.”
A third man, with a heavy accent that sounded Russian said, “I tell you. Better we riddle car with bullets. Tell boss they fought back.”
“No,” the first voice said in refined British English. “These two are wanted alive. Particularly the man. We have tried to get our hands on him for years.”
“Holy fucking crap. Take a gander at this,” the second voice, which sounded American as all get out, muttered.
“What is it?” from the Brit.
“Big cat tracks. Fresh too,” the American answered. “Are there cougars in these hills?”
“That’s a stupid question,” the Brit snapped. “There must be or you wouldn’t see tracks. Hmph. I wonder…” He moved toward the SUV and shined a penlight into the back. Tamara got a good look at him. He resembled many of Jaret’s men. Hard body, hard eyes. He was tall and rangy, dressed in black, with greasepaint on his face and a black watch cap pulled low on his head. “Fuck. They’re not here.”