Leopard's Rage (Leopard People 12)

“Matherson should have moved on. He shouldn’t have sent his men against me once he had me investigated, and when his men disappeared, believe me, he had me investigated. The name Amurov, as you know, is very suspect. He had to think in terms of a crime family, yet he still attacked us and tried to get you away from me. I had to wonder why he would do that.”

Her gaze dropped to the floor. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. Leopards were oral and their shifter counterparts were equally so. He refused to let his gaze linger on that perfect sinful temptation. The image of her lips stretched around his cock might be in his mind, but he wouldn’t let it show on his face. She had to believe he was in control at all times. They seemed to be in some kind of battle and he’d missed the reason why altogether.

“Why would that be, Sevastyan?”

Her voice had gone very soft, but he heard her and was very tuned to her. She didn’t seem to realize that the more he tied her, the more he had to learn to read her body, her face, all the little nuances that made up Flambé Carver. He had memorized her body, every damn inch of her. That beautiful face, the bone structure that lay beneath it. He heard the small note of fear and his leopard heard it as well. Shturm clawed and raked, furious. They both knew what that note meant.

“No man would just walk away after fucking you, Flambé. You set up a craving in a man. He gets addicted.”

He stalked her with slow, measured steps, purposefully giving her the impression of danger. Letting her see the inherent cruelty in his leopard, in him. He could be without mercy. It made him very good at his job. It also made his leopard a very good mate. He knew it was the very trait that both attracted and repelled her.

She was addicted to him. To their wild, passionate, feral relationship. She was addicted to the ropes. She never knew what he was going to do or ask of her and she was addicted to that as well. He kept her off balance and craving him. Flambé might be a submissive woman in the bedroom, but she was a woman with such a demanding sexual nature that unless a man could satisfy her needs, she would move on fast.

He knew he was right about Franco Matherson. At some time, they must have met casually in a bar. In a nightclub. He’d probably had no idea she was leopard. They’d talked, they’d danced and she’d spent a couple of hours with him and left. A couple of hours hadn’t been enough and somewhere along the line he’d realized she was a shifter. Matherson wasn’t going to let her go.

Sevastyan stepped right into her. Close. The height difference between them was over a foot. His shoulders were wide. He caught her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. “Where did you meet him?”

“A club. In South Africa. I was staying at a hotel near the airport.”

Her gaze tried to shift away from his, but he refused to allow it, his eyes wholly focused, boring into hers, forcing her to face him. He didn’t blink, giving her the stare of his cat. The hunter. She was damn well going to answer him this time. He was standing so close to her he felt her body hitch as she tried to pull in air.

“I was at the bar and he came in. He looked like he could handle himself and I was . . .” She broke off, her voice low.

“Keep going. You were looking for someone to fuck, I get it.” He was deliberately crude. He wanted to shake her. He didn’t give a damn that she’d been with men before him, only that she hadn’t been safe.

“I’m not ashamed, Sevastyan, if you’re thinking I am.” Her eyes went golden on him. “I do feel guilty because I was so needy that I just wasn’t paying attention to the warning signs that were there. I should have been. I let him spot me and it wasn’t that hard to get him to take me to his room.”

Sevastyan was certain that was the truth. She was beautiful. Small and curvaceous. To a man like Matherson, she would look like someone he could have his way with. Little did he know she was a tigress in the bedroom.

“I knew he was leopard. I could see it in his eyes. He had no idea I was. She wasn’t close to rising. I wasn’t even sure she would ever rise at that point. He wasn’t that great in bed and I just wanted out of there as fast as possible afterward. I had to initiate everything and it isn’t my thing, as you well know.”

Sevastyan knew that was most of Flambé’s problem and why she went out so often seeking partners. She was never satisfied. The men might look like they could satisfy her, but they had no idea how. Thankfully, he did.

“He wanted my phone number. I gave some lame excuse and that’s when I realized I could be in trouble.” She shrugged. “I soothed him, made noises like we’d meet up again and then got the hell out of there. I was coming back to the States. I’d never told him where I was from so I didn’t think he could find me.”

Sevastyan ran his hand down the back of her head, down all that soft silk. He bent and brushed a kiss over her upturned mouth. “Thank you, Flambé. I needed to know or I wouldn’t have asked.” His thumb slid over her lower lip. “If you need me, baby, text me.”

He brushed his mouth very gently over hers a second time and then dropped his hands, although it was difficult not to touch her body when he could feel her hunger for him all over again and his blood pounded through his cock so hard, he thought it might burst.

He strode back across the room, pausing at the door. “Wait for me to bring you home. If you get hungry, text me and I’ll get you something to eat, or we’ll have dinner with Mitya and Ania.”

She shook her head, her hands gripping the edges of the desk until her knuckles turned white. “I’m not that comfortable with them yet.”

He dropped his hand on the doorknob, hating to leave her. Not because she was naked and he wanted her all over again, but because she suddenly looked vulnerable and a little unhappy.

Flambé was very self-sufficient. She didn’t require entertaining. She didn’t ask for much. She hadn’t balked when he told her he wanted her to work from his cousin’s home rather than theirs even though he knew she would be less comfortable. She didn’t object to the bodyguards he sent with her when she went to work on other projects and he couldn’t go.

“You mean Mitya. You and Ania are thick as thieves.” He couldn’t exactly blame her. Mitya hadn’t been that welcoming, although that was because he was worried for Sevastyan.

She shrugged. “Go to work, Sevastyan. I’m perfectly fine. I’m trying to design the indoor garden and it’s a massive project.”

“I thought we were designing that together.”

“We are, but I have to put together the skeleton for it. We need a foundation.”

Sevastyan nodded his head, not entirely certain what she meant. His mind was already on what he needed to do about Franco Matherson. Closing the door behind him softly, he stalked down the wide hall, wondering what the hell he was going to do about her. She was getting to him. He wasn’t so certain he was getting to her. That was the thing about Flambé. She was as elusive as hel

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