Leopard's Blood Read online

  He chuffed. She answered. She moved a few steps from him and crouched. The male was on her before Gatita could rebuff him, a common practice with females. As the male extended his back, leaning over the female, Sonia retreated to give them privacy. The male took the female without hesitation, moving in her over and over. Eventually he let out a long growl just before sinking his teeth into the female's shoulder, holding her in place.

  The male held her still for several long moments, and then he released her from his teeth and simultaneously leapt away. She growled and swiped at him with her paw, ran a few feet and collapsed, her sides heaving. The male approached her cautiously. When she showed no signs of attacking him, he rubbed his face over hers and then, while she slept, paced around her, scent-marking the trees, making certain that any other male leopard knew this was his territory and his female.

  The big male rubbed his face over Gatita's, nuzzling her several times. She rose, and the two of them started all over again. They found a small stream that trickled through the swamp and both drank and rested between their rough sex. As the night began to wane, the female led the male back toward the blind Sonia had set up so they could rest after the female's run.

  Gatita collapsed on the mattress, shifting as she did so. Sonia found herself completely naked, the terrible burning hunger not in the least assuaged. Every cell in her body was on fire. She needed a man more than she needed air to breathe.

  It was still dark. All around her the cacophony of insects was so loud it drowned out everything, until she heard the exhale. Her body stiffened. She felt the focused stare. Her heart nearly stopped beating and then began to pound. Her mouth went dry. Very slowly she turned her head and found herself staring into the eyes of the huge male.

  Once they locked eyes, Sonia couldn't look away. The normal color of a leopard's eyes was amber, but this animal had blue eyes. She'd heard of a rare finding in India of several blue-eyed leopards, all suspected of being from the same family, but she'd never thought to see such a thing herself. The piercing stare was the same, blue or amber.

  Up close, the cat was terrifying. He was huge, with roped muscles and savage teeth. Nothing, not even having her own leopard, could have prepared her for finding herself only a few feet from a wild leopard, one clearly dominant. His coat was beautiful, a deep ochre, more on the orange side beneath the scattering of large black rosettes. His eyes, had they been amber, would have been lost in the black and ochre of his face, but the startling blue stared straight into her eyes, taking her breath.

  Sonia didn't have a weapon, nothing at all to protect herself with. She couldn't imagine what the male thought, one moment with his newly found mate, and the next a human crouched next to him, staring straight into his eyes.

  She couldn't help herself, even though she knew better. Cats hunted prey. The last thing she should do was run. In any case, a leopard could outrun her. Still, self-preservation demanded she do something, and she threw herself sideways, trying to get to the other side of the mattress.

  Instantly he was on her, his heavy body pinning her down, his teeth sinking into her shoulder. She screamed at the flash of pain, closing her eyes, knowing what was coming. At the last moment, Gatita rose to defend her--except she didn't. The female didn't take over, didn't push to return to the male. She rose as if touching the male and then she subsided. The male purred as if recognizing her and slowly released Sonia.

  His heavy weight still pressed her down, held her to the mattress. She no longer felt fur, but the roped muscles were there. The breathing. Warm. Soft. A tongue swept over the bite in her shoulder.

  "Shh, you're all right now. He wouldn't hurt you." The tongue touched her ear. Lips brushed there. Teeth tugged on her earlobe. "Your leopard is his mate. He knows that." The lips traveled down the side of her neck, creating a trail of flames she felt traveling over her skin. "He claimed her, by putting his mark on you."

  The voice was in her ear. Soft. Seductive. A low, but deep, very masculine voice washed through the pain and fear and brought her straight back to raging hormones. It didn't help that he was naked too, and that she felt his cock hard and thick and pressed against her buttocks.

  She didn't speak. She couldn't find her voice. She didn't want him to move. If he did, she was afraid she would attack him. She needed what he had that much. The need was so strong, the burn so deep, she feared she would go insane if he didn't do something.

  His hand stroked down her back. Just that touch sent streaks of fire straight to her sex. She heard herself moan and knew she was giving him consent when, any other time, she would have run for safety.

  "Your skin is so soft," he whispered.

  His voice was sheer temptation. He was leading her straight to hell, where they were both going to burn together for their sins. She knew that, but she didn't care. He was a shifter, just as she was, and he had to be on fire, his need and hunger every bit as strong as hers.

  His hand slid over the left cheek of her buttocks, a caress that sent a wave of need so strong she heard a low, keening wail coming from her throat. Everywhere he touched sent those flames dancing, tripping over her skin, rushing through her veins to settle deep in her core like a firestorm.

  One arm caught her hips and yanked her up to her knees, while the other held her head pressed to the mattress, his palm curled around her nape. She couldn't move, pinned as effectively as her female had been.

  "Say yes."

  It was a demand. She closed her eyes tightly. She needed him desperately, but he wasn't going to give her what she needed unless she gave him permission. There would be no pretense in the morning that she hadn't agreed to this. But if she didn't comply, he might go away, and she'd be left burning up.

  Her breath came in ragged pants, so labored she barely recognized herself. She was squirming unashamedly, pushing back to try to entice him. She hadn't even seen his face. She didn't want to see it. She didn't want him to see hers.

  Then his hand was there, his fingers. She heard that same low keening cry coming from her throat. The need shook her. His tongue moved up the inside of her thigh and then touched her center.

  "Yes." She hissed it. "Yes." She found more strength and pushed assent into her voice so he couldn't fail to hear it.

  He took her hard and fast. One moment his hand was at her entrance, testing her slick heat and then he filled her. He was thick and hard and long, stretching her ability to take him. The friction nearly set her on fire. The burn of him pressing against those tight inner muscles, stretching them beyond what she'd ever known, should have hurt. The only hurt was that he didn't move faster or harder.

  "I need . . ." She gasped as his cock withdrew and then plunged deep again.

  "I know what you need. Trust me. I need the same thing."

  She was grateful that he admitted she wasn't alone in her wild needs. He couldn't be rough enough. Or hard enough. He couldn't be too deep. Or too anything. She needed his hands and his mouth and his teeth. She needed a wild mating without thought, only feeling that burning pleasure that bordered on pain. Maybe it was pain. She didn't know or care. Only that he had to take away the terrible burning inside.

  Her fingers formed fists in the sheets as she pushed back hard, catching his rhythm and adding to the strength of his plunging cock. He was like a wild machine, out of control, and yet at the same time in complete control. He certainly was in control of her, when she wasn't. The orgasm took her by complete surprise. She felt the coiling tension gathering and gathering until she thought she might go insane.

  "Let go," he hissed.

  She had no idea how. She'd never actually had an orgasm, and she'd never felt like this. The hunger. The need. The intensity. She didn't know what to do, only that it had to stop before she lost her mind.

  "Let go," he said again. This time that soft velvety voice growled with command. His finger was on her clit, stroking, then flicking. Hard. That shocking bite started a tsunami. It grew and grew, sending waves of that pleasure-pain swam
ping her, taking her on a wild ride she had never been on.

  She felt the heat of his release, hot splashes of his seed deep inside her. He collapsed over top of her, his weight taking her to the mattress, pinning her there. All she wanted to do was sleep. She kept her eyes closed. The sound of his breathing was soothing to her. His body kept hers warm in the cool night air. All around them the sounds of the swamp created a familiar lullaby.

  She woke to pure fire. Rolling onto her back to try to ease the way her skin felt so inflamed, she tried to piece together where she was. She couldn't think with the flames burning through her, scorching her. Her breasts ached, her nipples two pinpoints of pain. Her sex didn't just ache--the fire was so hot it was excruciating. She moaned and writhed, tears forming behind her eyes.

  "It isn't going to stop," she whispered in despair. She'd humiliated herself and had sex with a perfect, nameless, faceless stranger, and yet it hadn't stopped.

  "I'm here." His voice came out of the darkness. He loomed over her, tall for a shifter, broad-shouldered, the heavy roped muscles of their kind. His hair was shockingly blond, his eyes a rare, crystal blue-green.

  He knelt between her legs, gripped her thighs, fingers digging into her soft skin. His eyes staring with the complete focus of a leopard into hers, he yanked her thighs apart. "You're mine," he hissed. Anger simmered beneath the velvet of his voice. His hand stroked her center, taking her breath. "Your female belongs to my male, and you belong to me."

  She could barely hear him with the hunger roaring through her, crashing in her ears, burning through her center until she wanted to scream. His fingers weren't doing enough. Barely touching her. Circling her clit, never touching it. Her hips thrashed, and he gripped her harder.

  "Say it," he snapped.

  She would have promised him anything at that point. She didn't want to talk to him. She was using him. She knew that and it shamed her, but she was desperate. "I'm yours," she hissed between her teeth.

  He rewarded her with a finger pushing into her. Just like before, she felt tight, as if her muscles had clenched down and now he was having to open her all over again. The thickness of his finger took her breath, robbed her of the ability to process anything, let alone have a conversation with him. She didn't understand why he was angry, unless he knew that she was using him and didn't like it.

  She didn't care what it was, only that he get inside her and take away the terrible burn. The emptiness. The need and hunger that wouldn't go away. "Hurry," she pleaded. "Please." She even hated that, asking him, practically begging him.

  She was free. She had a life. She didn't have to ask for anything, and yet here she was. She should be the one angry. All she could think about was the way her body demanded his. That need that wouldn't go away.

  He pressed the head of his cock into her entrance and hissed, his eyes still holding hers captive. She couldn't look away, mesmerized by him, by that look of utter possession stamped deep in the lines of his face. He looked like sin incarnate--the devil taking her.

  "You are scorching hot." He bit out the words between his perfect white teeth. "So fucking tight I might lose my mind."

  She was already losing hers. He was pushing in slow, inch by inch now, not taking her all at once like he'd done before. She was tight, her body refusing to give him entrance and then slowly giving way to his invasion at his insistence. He didn't stop that slow entry, just kept a steady pressure, forcing his way through her reluctant sheath until he was fully in her, until she felt him up against her cervix.

  His thickness pressed tightly against her inner muscles, stretching her again to the point of pain. It burned, that stretch, but it felt good, just what she needed. "Move," she commanded. He had to move before she imploded.

  "My name is Joshua. Say it."

  She shook her head. She didn't want to know his name. She didn't want him to know hers. She wanted him to take her hard and fast and then go away so she could be ashamed and humiliated alone. She lifted her hips, trying to move, but he wouldn't budge, and he wouldn't look away, or allow her to.

  "Say my name," he ordered. He kept his voice low, but it was no less demanding.

  "Why?" She practically wailed the question. She burned. Surely he did. Surely he could feel his leopard's need.

  "You know why."

  She didn't. She really didn't, but it didn't matter. If it would get him to move, she'd say it. "Joshua." She'd always liked that name. "Please, just move." She could play nice, but her fingers curled against the mattress, nails digging deep.

  He still didn't move. "Give me your name."

  Her eyelashes fluttered. She didn't want him to know her. Not at all. Not one thing. "After tonight you'll be gone. So will I."

  "She'll be in heat for seven days. This doesn't go away. You think my male's going to allow another male anywhere near her?" There was a growl in his voice she couldn't mistake for anything but a male on the verge of rage.

  "I'll lock her up."

  "How will that help either of you?"

  "I don't know," she wailed. "Please. Hurry."

  "Your name."

  He couldn't be feeling what she was feeling. Panic set in. She was moving, writhing beneath him, unable to stop. He leaned down and bit her shoulder. The bite of pain sent liquid heat surrounding him. Scorching him. She couldn't help it. Humiliation set in when he bit her other shoulder and then stroked his tongue over the sting, earning him more heat. More burning liquid. Her muscles spasmed around his cock, gripping him harder.

  "Sonia." She gasped it. Nearly crying. Burning from the inside out.

  He moved immediately, withdrawing and then surging forward. Then he was pounding into her, pulling her body into his when he moved into hers. Her breath rushed from her lungs, her breasts swayed with each hard jolt, her head thrashed on the mattress as he pistoned into her, over and over again. She never took her eyes from his, and he never once looked away.

  She came immediately, the wave taking her hard, roaring through her with a terrible force and then instantly building again, coiling tighter than before. The need stronger. It built and built in her. He yanked her legs up and over his shoulders, changing his position, throwing her into another wild orgasm that raced through her body; every cell should have been sated, but it wasn't.

  She cried out, terrified of losing herself in him. Never once did those eyes allow her to look away. She had to depend on him, and he was letting her know he knew that. He was the only one who could help her. The third time, he went with her, her body gripping and milking his, forcing his orgasm with the sheer strength of hers.

  She whispered his name, the burn of tears in her eyes as she braced herself for the release. His cock was still heavy as he withdrew and there was that bite of pain she expected, the one that flashed through her and sent another heat wave. Before he could say anything, she rolled onto her side and let the swamp soothe her to sleep. He curled his body around hers, one arm sliding around her waist, his breath in her hair.

  She woke close to the dawn. In the blind it was still dark, but light was beginning to creep through the trees, bringing those gray fingers of fog. Joshua rolled over top of her and took her mouth before she could protest.

  He kissed like he fucked. Hard. Hot. Spectacular. Fireworks went off behind her eyes. His mouth traveled over her chin, down her throat to her breasts. Finally. Her nipples, always on fire, had the attention of his mouth. She realized then she wasn't the only one feeling the burn of the leopard mating. He was wild, his mouth hotter than hell. His teeth were everywhere. He was rough, savagely so. He treated her body like his own personal playground. She loved it, the way he growled if she moved. The way his tongue lapped at the sting of his bites.

  This was what she'd needed. The heat. The fire. The rough mixed with tender. His mouth was on her, claiming every square inch of her body. His teeth marked her. His tongue brushed caresses to soothe her. His hands were everywhere. Then he was kissing her again, after the long exploration of her body. Ki
ssing her until she couldn't think, only feel. Only need. Want. So much hunger spilling over until she could hear herself pleading.

  He caught one leg and pulled it around his waist. His hand circled the girth of his cock, and he nudged at her entrance. When she tried to impale herself, he shook his head. "I want to feel your hands on me."

  She hadn't wanted to go that far. She knew he'd been committing her body to his memory, but she'd never had anything like this before. It was too intense. Too passionate. Too sinful. Too . . . everything. She knew she'd never forget him as it was, let alone if she gave in to her desire to explore his body.

  Reluctantly, she complied. She didn't want him to stop, so she did what he asked, putting her hand on his shoulder. Then he was inside her, slamming deep, driving through her tight folds, the breath hissing out of him. Once again his blue-green eyes trapped hers so she felt she was caught in crystal, exposed to him. Every vulnerability. Every flaw. Every humiliating need and desire.

  Her body wouldn't be sated without rough. Somehow he read that in her, and it shamed her. Her nails dug into his back when fire streaked through her. It was good. So good. The way his cock drove deep, retreated and drove in again. Over and over.

  She wrapped her other leg around his waist and used her hands down his back, over his buttocks, her nails driving deep, scoring a path in his skin, while he took her over. She knew he owned her body. There was no retreating from this. No getting away from it. Not when he could drag another three orgasms from her. Not when his kisses set fire to her soul. Not when his mouth on her breasts sent flames licking over her skin. He owned her body, and he always would.

  He emptied himself in her while she floated somewhere she'd never been, his body collapsing over hers, pinning her to the mattress, her legs and arms still wrapping him up, both fighting for air.

  He lifted his head first, his lips brushing her eyelids, the tip of her nose and then her mouth. Very gently. The difference between his rough and gentle was soul-destroying. It alarmed her. A woman could get used to a man like him, but she didn't dare. There was no man in her future. No rough. No gentle. No anything.