Leopard's Rage (Leopard People 12)

k to the swell of her breasts, the sweet expanse of curves her open blouse revealed. He covered the satiny mounds with the heat of his palm and the wide expanse of his fingers. Her breasts were soft yet firm. He didn’t make excuses for touching her. He didn’t need to. She’d given him the invitation.

He rubbed the pad of his thumb back and forth over the curve of her breasts. “They’re out there.”

Her breath hitched. Flambé didn’t pretend she didn’t like what he was doing to her. She inched into his hand, not away from it. Her hips moved slightly in rhythm. She was very responsive to the chemistry happening between them. At the moment, her leopard wasn’t involved. He was grateful she was responding to the man and not his leopard.

“What do they want?”

She wasn’t thinking anymore, not about Franco Matherson. She was thinking about Sevastyan and he wanted to keep her that way. He didn’t want to answer that question. Leopards could hear lies and he wasn’t about to lie to her. He didn’t want her to be afraid nor did he want her to know that he was going hunting the moment she fell asleep.

Deliberately he slid his hand deeper into her blouse, finding her left nipple through the thin lace of her bra. He tugged for a moment and then, watching her face, flicked with his thumb and finger. She gasped as he rolled and tugged again.

“I love that you’re so responsive.” He whispered it like praise and then bit gently on the lobe of her ear before letting her go and once more picking up her suitcases. “Come on, baby, we’ve got to get inside. I need you safe.” He led the way fast, clearly expecting her to follow him.

She was silent when she walked, a true leopard. She’d been brought up in a lair. Trained as a leopard. Her father had definitely taught her the rules of their world. She knew they weren’t entirely human and they weren’t animal. Theirs was a strict society because it had to be secretive in order for them to have a chance at survival.

Sevastyan didn’t understand, when there were such good men as Ania’s father had been, why aberrations like his father and Matherson were born into an already dying species. Sevastyan couldn’t claim he was a good man, although he tried to be. He wanted to be. He did his best when he knew he’d been fucked up since the day he’d been born. For the woman following him into the house, he would do his best to be a better man every day. For her.

He would find a way to make her life extraordinary. Fyodor managed to make Evangeline happy. But Evangeline was an angel. Sevastyan didn’t want an angel. He couldn’t afford to have one, not with the kind of man he was. He wanted a woman who would catch fire with him. Go up in fiery flames. Be fierce when she needed to be. Have no fear when she confronted him or with the kinds of things he would ask or demand of her.

He would be asking a lot of Flambé. He believed she had it all in her, just by the things he’d read about her and her father. She’d grown up beside her father, doing the things he’d done. Rescuing her people, giving them opportunities to make their way in life. She seemed to possess all the characteristics he admired and respected in a woman, the ones he most looked for.

He was an extremely sexual man. There was no getting around that. The way she related to him already, he could tell she was as well. The sex wasn’t going to be all about her cat; when the leopard subsided with her heat, Flambé’s needs wouldn’t just go away. She would match his nature, and hopefully be open to adventure.

“I thought this room would be a good one for you. It was the master bedroom and has a sitting room. You can use it for work until you move upstairs with me.” He pushed open the door to the enormous suite of rooms.

The Dover manor was large and the downstairs master bedroom could have easily been a city apartment complete with kitchen, dining room and living room. It was open, with two stairs leading up to the actual bedroom, where a gas fireplace was on one wall. Chairs and a small table were down below the two stairs on a thick gray carpet facing another gas fireplace. One wall was accented a dark color while the rest matched the silvery gray of the carpet. Two tall lamps were slashes of dark color with oval-shaped shades over the dim bulbs standing on either side of the enormous bed.

“The bathroom is through those doors. Has a shower and bathtub. Anything you need should already be in there for you, but if not, intercom me.” He gestured toward the phone. “Anything at all, Flambé, if your leopard rises, or you get frightened, you call me.” He walked over to the phone and showed her where to press the button. “That will call me. Don’t come up the stairs. That could get you in trouble.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Trouble? What kind of trouble?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I’m being as gentle with you as I can. The leopards aren’t going to give us much time. I want to take what we have to get to know each other. Don’t make it more difficult than it already is.” He poured warning into his voice and hoped she heeded him.

She didn’t look afraid, only intrigued. He opened the double closet doors. The closet could fit a small apartment into it as well. Hers. She lived in a little studio. It was on her father’s property, but she didn’t reside in the main house. He didn’t know who stayed there and he didn’t care. She liked small spaces, which was good to know that she didn’t mind them.

“Wow. This is the master bedroom?”

He indicated the built-in walkways that looked as if they were shelves that artfully ran the length of all the rooms. They had been cleverly put throughout the house for the leopards to rest on, or use for prowling from one place to another.

She stroked her fingers along her throat. “It’s a little intimidating. I’m used to my little studio. We always had so many people staying with us that the main house was crowded, so I had the studio apartment for my own. Thankfully, my father kept it for me even when I went away to college.”

He took possession of her hand and brought it to his lips, biting on the ends of her fingers just hard enough to make them sting before sucking them into the heat of his mouth to take the edge of any pain off. Her eyes went wide. Again, she didn’t pull her hand away from him, only stared at him a little uncertainly.

“You’ll be safe here. Just take your shower and go to sleep. Don’t wander around tonight. Once you’re in bed, I’ll check on you a couple of times unless you’re a very light sleeper and you think that will bother you.”

“I’ll leave the door open.” There was relief in her voice.

He found it interesting that she was more afraid of being alone in the large room with the door closed than with him coming in to check on her. Her leopard was still very quiet. Shturm was prowling close to the surface, eager to be on the hunt, but there was no evidence that Flambé trusted Sevastyan because of the leopards.

He cupped the side of her face, his thumb gently running over her soft skin. “You’ll be safe here, Flambé. Matherson can’t get to you. I’d never allow that. Neither would Shturm. Go to sleep and let yourself get a good night’s rest.”

Her dark green eyes searched his for a long time and then finally she nodded. He bent his head and brushed a kiss across her lips. A brief touch, no more. His heart nearly stopped at that touch. His stomach somersaulted. She was potent. He wanted to mesmerize her. To bring her under his spell. She was completely captivating him. Ensnaring him when he hadn’t thought it was possible for anyone to do such a thing.

He dropped his hands abruptly and turned and stalked out without looking back. It was difficult to keep his hands off her. He’d promised himself he’d give her every reason to trust him, and at his first real test, he was already failing. He would fail. He knew it. She purred the moment she came into physical contact with him. That shouldn’t matter. He should have enough discipline to stay in control, but he didn’t. He couldn’t stop his body’s reaction—or his mind from turning to all kinds of erotic images.

He waited downstairs, not daring to go up to his bedroom. He’d first had the room painted, carpeted and tiled the way he wanted before he added the other renovations himself. He’d taken his time and added every single thing he might ever want or need and that was pleasing to his eye. He’d done the work himself. He had escape routes for himself, his leopard and especially his woman, should he ever find one.

He knew he couldn’t allow Flambé anywhere near what was now the master bedroom. If he took her up to his room, he would want her to stay there for the rest of her life. There would be no period of waiting, no getting to know each other. His resolution would be over that fast.