He abandoned her ear, needing to claim her mouth and thrust into the wet heat of it with his tongue in a prelude to doing the same to slick nether lips. He wanted to taste her passion, to mark himself with her scent before sheathing his cock inside her.
Satisfaction purred through him at the look of desire in her eyes, at the way her tongue darted out, wetting a mouth that parted in anticipation.
A spike of pure heat shot through his penis as he imagined those same lips on his shaft, caressing his length before wrapping around his cock head and slowly sucking him deep into her mouth.
With a rumbled growl he captured her lips, his hand leaving her breast long enough to jerk her shirt out of her pants, then slide upward, his palm against smooth skin until it encountered her bra.
He pushed under the unwelcome barrier, wondering why she would wear such a thing. She was so lush, so feminine, so utterly desirable. There was no reason to hide it with layers of clothing.
Their tongues twined, tangled, slid against each other, stoking the fires of lust. Pleasure whipped through him when her fingers glanced over the back of his neck before spearing through his hair, gripping him, holding him to her as if she never wanted the kiss to end.
Their breaths mingled, becoming one. Aryck closed his eyes, sinking into the moment, the pleasure of having her in his arms.
Pliant. Willing. Responding to him.
There was no doubt, only desire, a feeling of rightness. This was meant to be. He’d been a fool to fight the Jaguar’s claim, to waste time fighting the attraction she held for him.
He captured Rebekka’s nipple between his fingers, rolled and tugged and squeezed until her whimper brought the Jaguar to life, not in separation but in full integration, in a dominant demand to feel their mate’s body naked beneath them.
Aryck forced himself to abandon her lips. “Undress for me,” he whispered, ensuring her compliance by recapturing her earlobe, sucking, feeling her breast swell and nipple harden further.
Heat poured into Rebekka, engulfed her. She wanted him, shook with the need to accept the pleasure he offered.
But what would happen afterward? For there to be a future together, he had to know about the witches and their talk of a coming war that would change the world yet again. He needed to know about her demon father, and that she’d been created for a purpose. She had to tell him about the urchin. Reveal the full truth of her gift.
Desire ebbed with images of the burning pallets in Oakland and the dead Elk here. As if sensing her retreat, Aryck said, “Life goes on.”
He renewed the sensual assault on her nipple. Tugging, squeezing, the rhythm sending flutter after flutter through her womb, making her grow swollen and wet with need, ready again as he repeated his command. “Undress for me.”
The light filtered in through the trees, denying her the protection of the darkness. It was only a phantom sensation, she knew it wasn’t real, and yet she felt the tattoo as if it were raised on her skin. It brought a more immediate fear, a vulnerability she’d lived with far longer than worries about her father or her gift.
What if Aryck saw it and knew what it meant? What if he turned away in disgust? Or even after she told him the truth, his eyes continued to hold doubt? Or what if it didn’t matter to him for the same reason the prostitutes in the brothel sought one another out for pleasure or comfort without forming permanent ties?
He hadn’t spoken of a future together. Hadn’t indicated he wanted anything more than physical release.
“I’m not sure I can do this,” she said, though her body seemed determined to make it a lie.
Her hands remained in his hair. Her pelvis continued to grind against his, each strike of her stiffened clit against his erection sending a jolt of pure ecstasy through her.
“I’ll help you then,” he murmured, making her womb clench with one final thrust of his tongue into her ear before he stepped back far enough that his hands could undo the buttons of her shirt.
He started at the top, eyes becoming molten as each button was freed to reveal another few inches of skin. It unnerved her at the same time it made her feel incredibly feminine, desirable in a way she’d never viewed herself as being.
She was a healer. That was how she’d defined herself for so long. It obliterated the label of prostitute’s daughter and helped keep her own sexuality at bay.
But now she found she didn’t want that any longer. She wanted to be more than a healer.
Aryck pushed her shirt off her shoulders and down. It fell away, leaving her standing in bra and pants. He’d seen her wearing nothing but her panties and yet there was something erotic in appearing before him like this, her nipples hard points against the thin material of the bra.
Nervousness made her lick her lips. The way he zeroed in on her mouth, his expression growing hungry as his hand moved to the front of his pants to grip his erection sent a thrill through her, a rush of feminine power.
It gave her the courage to take off her shoes and pants, then step forward to grasp his waistband. “Your turn,” she said, arousal soaking her panties and wetting her inner thighs as she remembered him the night before in the moments between shifting, when he was a cat in human form, expecting admiration. “I want to see you again.”
He captured her hand, replacing the one at the front of his pants with hers. She blushed despite being no stranger to nudity or the male form. In the brothels she’d undressed prostitutes when they couldn’t do it for themselves, had handled their sexual organs with emotional detachment.
Aryck brushed the back of his hand against her heated cheek, a curious, speculative expression on his face. It lasted only until she traced the laces at the front of his pants.
His features went taut. She licked her lips again and felt his cock pulse beneath her fingertips.
Slowly, partly in nervousness and partly in anticipation, she loosened the leather strips holding the pants closed. Her labia grew more flushed and swollen, her clit harder. She was intensely aware of them, of the need centered there. Throbbing like a second heartbeat.
The laces gave, loosening the pants so they dropped to the ground, freeing Aryck’s penis. Exposing it. Revealing a wet tip and pulled-back sheath, the heavy testicles beneath, framed by powerful thighs.
Everything about him was masculine perfection, a sensual beauty of sleek muscle and innate strength combined with the absolute confidence of a bold, dangerous predator.
His cock grew fuller under her perusal. Another drop of arousal beaded on its tip.
He took her hand once again, guiding it to his erection. His hand remained there, covering hers.
Without the material of his pants, she closed her fist around him, felt the thrill of his low moan all the way to her toes. He leaned in and recaptured her lips, grasped her hair and held her to him as he thrust his tongue into her mouth, the hand covering hers moving up and down on his shaft.
It was so decadent, something belonging to fantasies she barely acknowledged having. He was smooth steel and velvety softness combined.
On an upstroke she rubbed her thumb over the wet tip, reveled in the way his hips jerked. Then jerked again when she did it a second time.
His hand left her hair, sending pleasure through her as he caressed her back, seeming to pause at each vertebra. He lingered at the base of her spine, fingers sliding into her panties, dancing over the spot where the cleft between her buttocks began.
Her ass cheeks clamped together instinctively, and he ended their kiss with a soft laugh. “I don’t want you that way, not for the first time, anyway.”
He leaned in and flicked her earlobe with his tongue, whispered, “But in the end, I’ll have you every way it’s possible for a male to have his female.”