Leopard's Rage (Leopard People 12) - Page 47

“That’s what you said when I wanted to build up the little wooded area to a much larger forest.” He rubbed his chin again over the top of her hair.

Sevastyan massaged Flambé’s arms and breasts, a firm rub that was very sensual, circling her nipples and then moving his fingers down to her belly to massage there as well. She was still experiencing little ripples, aftershocks that shook her. He could feel them moving through her body and his massage added to the sensations. He wanted to keep those sensations going, just for a little while longer.

She moaned and turned her head into his chest, spreading her legs for him as he pushed his fist against her wet, inflamed pussy, his knuckles rubbing. She pressed down tight, riding his knuckles as he continued the massage, his teeth biting her shoulder, tongue soothing, then teeth stinging again.

Shturm, keep talking to your female. I want you to coax her to the surface. You are going to reclaim her, just in case, for some reason, she didn’t understand the first time what that meant. She’s young and it’s her first cycle. We need to know if she realizes you are her mate.

Sevastyan very gently pulled his fist out from between Flambé’s legs. She made a low sound of protest and tried to catch at his wrist to hold his knuckles in place there. He nuzzled her bare neck again, and then wrapped his arms around her tight, his hands cupping her breasts, thumbs sliding over her nipples. He bit down on her shoulder, his teeth sinking into her delicate skin. She cried out and rocked her hips, sliding one leg over his thigh, trying to find a way to ease the terrible building pressure between her legs.

The male leopard pushed at him, rubbing close to the surface. The female was close, unable to resist with Flambé in such a highly sexual state. She stretched and rolled, flirting outrageously with Shturm. She pressed against Flambé and made it known that she wanted out soon. That she wanted her mate.

Be gentle, Shturm. Make it count. Don’t make a mistake. Clearly, she’s in her first life cycle and doesn’t know what she’s doing. If you want her and you’re absolutely certain she’s your mate, you claim her and let her know no other male is going to take what’s ours. That we’ll fight to the death for them. She didn’t get that the first time around.

Holding Flambé tight, Sevastyan shifted just his head and allowed the male leopard to take that form.

Hurry, Sevastyan hissed to the cat, knowing Flambé was too weak to stop the female from responding if she had been doing so, but he didn’t like her in need without meeting that need. Not when it was so acute.

Shturm didn’t waste time. He sank his teeth into the back of Flambé’s shoulder, calling to the female, sending her reassurance that he was strong and fierce and that no other male could defeat him. That he would fight for her and defend her. That his claim on her would always stand. No other male would ever harm her or Flambé. His human was as fierce and protective as he was and would take equal care of Flambé.

The female rose to him, touching the edges of his teeth, accepting the claim for the second time. She stayed close this time, pressing toward the male, assuring him with images that he was her choice.

Ask her why she is taking so long to emerge. Sevastyan kept his arms tight around Flambé, locking her to him, his large hands completely covering her breasts, her nipples pressing deep into his palms. He rolled his wrists so that the massage was subtle, but kept pressure on those twin points of flame. Her hips rocked and bucked against his thigh.

Flambé fears you. Shturm shifted, giving back the form, retreating to allow Sevastyan to process the answer the female leopard had given the male in stark images. She holds Flamme back.

Sevastyan dipped his head low to kiss the wounds on Flambé’s shoulder, wondering why Flambé would be afraid of him. What she would fear. She didn’t fear being tied in the rope when she was the most vulnerable. That was when she was the most honest of all.

“I love that you’re so sensitive,” he whispered, his thumb sliding over her nipple. “When I clamp you, you shudder with pleasure. Your entire body responds.”

“I don’t, not all the time. Sometimes the smallest sensation and I burn. I know that’s why I need sex all the time. Even fabric against my skin can make me start to burn. It’s the worst. Or my hair falling down my back, which is why I try to wear it up all the time.”

She was giving him all kinds of ammunition, things he could use to help her, but things, when they were playing erotic Kinbaku together, he could use to add to her sexual needs. He slid one hand lower, to her belly, massaged there while his other played with her breast. He understood now why she liked rough. Why she responded to a rougher touch and not a gentle one.

“Sometimes if I wear a thong, the types of lace between my cheeks will start to rub and then this fire starts building until I need something or someone to put it out. I don’t understand why I’m like this. I tried to talk to other strawberry leopards, the females, but they didn’t want to talk about it. They would burst into tears and turn away, so my guess is we’re all the same. It has to be our skin, our nerve endings too close to the surface or something.”

She pressed her hand over her other breast and rocked her hips harder. When that didn’t help, she tried to close her legs as if she could rub her thighs together, but he had her on his lap and he kept his legs wide, preventing her from getting relief that way. His hand slid lower, massaging her mound, his knuckles dipping low to rub her wet lips and then back up to trail through her tight curls.

“I need sex all the time.” There was a small sob in her voice and she pressed her face tight against his chest.

“You’ve got me now, Flambé. You don’t have to go to bars every night, or try to find someone to help you out during the day. I just happen to have a voracious sex drive, as you well know. We were meant to be.” He let a ghost of a smile creep into his tone.

Her hand slid down his arm to grasp his wrist. Once again, she tried to push his fist between her legs. He didn’t let her. Instead, he put his mouth against her ear. “Tell me what you want, malen’koye plamya.”

Her entire body trembled. “You know that’s so hard for me. To ask for anything sexual.”

“You weren’t listening properly, baby, and if you were in the ropes, you would be waiting a long time before you’d get relief, but you’re in a terrible state so I’ll let you figure it out. Think about what I said to you.” He had made it a command. In the bedroom, he commanded.

She hesitated. “I still need your cock, Sevastyan.”

It was a whisper, in that husky voice that reminded him of his cock down her throat. Every time he heard her speak in that tone, images and feelings immediately rose of the spectacular fireworks she’d produce

d in his body. There was no one like Flambé. No other match for him.

Her head tilted back and her eyes filled with dark lust, somewhere between gold and green. His cock was already aware with the cats so close and both females throwing off enough hormones to bring every leopard snarling and fighting for a mate within a hundred miles running to them. Still, he waited.

Her tongue moistened her dry lips. His seed was all over her face, shiny, beginning to dry. She was a mess but sexy as hell to a shifter who needed a woman willing to have the kind of dirty sex he needed. He was voracious in his appetites and kinks. He wanted one woman but he wanted her devoted to him. Willing to indulge him.

“Please.”

Tags: Christine Feehan Leopard People Paranormal
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