Leap of the Lion Read online

  “Females don’t reach maturity until early twenties. Males are old enough somewhere between sixteen and eighteen. Gawain and I attended two Gatherings before our lives went separate ways.”

  “Oh.”

  Those two Gatherings had been quite educational for him and Gawain. Their experienced partners had taught them exactly how to please a female—and how to share a female for the enjoyment of them all. “We were energetic, enthusiastic and”—he gave her a rueful smile—“we mated so many females from moonrise to moonset that our dicks were raw when we finally staggered out into the morning sun.”

  Her eyes widened, and she burst into husky, infectious giggles.

  His dick throbbed, letting him know it wouldn’t mind some energetic exercise.

  As her laughter faded, her gaze lowered. As she traced a finger over various scars on his chest, she bit her lip.

  He gave her hair a tug. “Ask, Darcy.”

  Ask, he said, as if talking about this stuff was easy. Maybe it was for normal shifters, but not so much for ones who’d been brainwashed by neurotic human inhibitions. As she tried to figure out how to phrase the question without revealing her own neurotic anxieties, she traced a long silvery scar from his shoulder down his chest. A light scattering of silky dark hair covered his contoured, solid pectorals—and didn’t conceal the myriad of past wounds he’d taken.

  He laid his hand over hers, and his voice deepened to a growl. “Darcy.”

  Fine. “Donal and Tynan are littermates. So are you and Gawain. But none of you wanted to…share me.” Did I do something wrong? Is there something wrong with me? Those words didn’t come out at all.

  He snorted and pulled her down to kiss her. A sweet, comforting kiss she sure hadn’t expected from the stern cahir. “Little cat, we didn’t even discuss sharing you. You’re too new to mating. Two males at once can be frightening—and would certainly be more cocks than you were ready for at once. One was enough, I think?”

  “Oh.” At the teasing quirk of his eyebrow, her tension relaxed. “Yes. It was.” She blushed, remembering how Gawain had pressed inside her, hurting her, and filling her, and it had been wonderful.

  The memory sparked an internal glow, one she was beginning to recognize. Her need was rising again, even more demanding this time.

  She wiggled and realized her stomach rested on a very long, very erect cock. “Speaking of sharing…” She rubbed her pelvis against him, feeling his shaft jerk against her stomach. “It’s selfish to keep certain things to yourself.”

  “Is it now?”

  Oh, she loved when she could make him laugh.

  “Then take what you need.” He ran his hard hands up and down her arms. “I’m all yours.”

  Her mouth opened as delight surged over her. He was so very…dominant. “Really? I can…do what I want?”

  “Aye.” He opened his hands, letting her know she was free.

  Pushing away the growing urgency, she leaned forward and initiated her first kiss. His lips were firm, and he kissed her back, letting her tongue fence with his…and she found his limits when she started to squirm on him.

  Suddenly his hand was wrapped in her hair, holding her while his tongue invaded and plundered without mercy.

  He released her eventually…when her head was filled with a hum of desire, and her breasts throbbed for his touch.

  “Sorry.” His lips twitched. “I can only stay on the receiving end for so long before instincts take over.”

  That was a good warning, she decided. Rather than answering, she kissed his chin, nipped his jaw, and felt his hands crush her arms before he remembered and released her.

  She moved down to lick along his collarbone, tease out the flat nipples…and see if she could make them peak the way hers did.

  They peaked, but were still tiny.

  His stomach had ridges of muscle, like an old-fashioned washer-board. Farther down, his cock jutted upward from a dark tangle of hair. After giving him a second to object, she wrapped her hands around his shaft.

  Oooh wow. Long, ever so long. Satin skin over a granite core, his erection radiated heat. Thick veins twined from the base to the mushroom head, and his woodsy scent was dark and strong here, enticing her to taste.

  She licked over him and heard him inhale through his nose.

  Her pussy swelled, demanding she straddle him and put him inside.

  Not yet.

  Instead, she licked around the head and closed her lips around the shaft, feeling him pulse with his own hunger. He needed her, too. Satisfaction seeped into her.

  The taste of the salty drop from the tip of his cock made her center clench. She took him deeper in her mouth, sliding him up and down. The vision of how his shaft would feel inside her sent more wetness between her legs.

  Sent more urgency through her.

  She couldn’t wait. “Um.”

  “Yes, kitten?” His face was strained as he quite obviously kept himself from taking what he wanted.

  “Do people do matings this way? Can I?”

  Her query was awfully inarticulate, but he understood. His grin flashed. “Aye, tinker. You can…for a while. Then I will take over…and take you.”

  That warning again.

  She better not wait. Straddling him, she tried to figure out how to get the two parts to go together, and he obligingly reached down and held his cock up.

  Perfect.

  She was wet and slick, and the head slid right in, although the burn of her tender tissues made her suck in air. But need drove her on, and she took more of him, easing down gently as he moved his hand away.

  Her center stretched around him—and oh, he felt so good. She rose up, slid down, and…realized he wasn’t all in. Leaning forward, she braced her hands on his shoulders. “It doesn’t fit.”

  His chuckle was reassuring. “It will, just take it slow.”

  He cupped her dangling breasts and ran his thumbs over her nipples.

  The added sensation, heat and abrasion, made her wiggle, and she slid back down more.

  His purr of approval made his chest vibrate.

  Up and down. Oh, she could feel the stretch deep within. Each time she went a bit lower until finally, breathless at the sensation, she felt his groin against her buttocks. “In.”

  “Aye.” His eyes were half-closed with pleasure, his lips curved, and he looked so different that she leaned forward, lifting up so she could kiss him.

  But she went too far and his shaft almost came out.

  Laughing, he closed his big hands on her hips, seating her firmly back on his cock…much faster than she’d done it. She gasped at the feeling of the sudden fullness.

  Before she could move, he lifted her up and yanked her down again, taking control.

  A thrill ran across her nerves. Under her knees, the ground seemed to soften as she gave over to him and let go. Deep in her core, the coil of pleasure began to contract.

  He was moving slowly, being careful not to hurt her, she realized, but… “More. I want more.”

  An eyebrow went up, and his eyes lit. “More you will get.” He tried to move his hand down between them, but she was leaning too far forward and his hand was too big.

  His eyes narrowed, and then he smiled, a wicked light in his eyes. “No, I think you will take me another way, little cat—one that puts your ass in the air for me.”

  Before she could understand what he meant, he lifted her off entirely, pulling his cock out and setting her in the grass. She started to roll over to her back, when he grasped her around the waist and turned her, positioning her on her arms and knees.

  “What are you doing?” Belatedly, she realized he’d knelt behind her, and her ass was…right there.

  He ran his hands over her bottom, massaging her. “Fuck, I adore your ass.”

  “Uh, thanks?”

  Laughing, he flattened his hand under her pelvis, holding her hips up. Then she felt him press his shaft against her pussy.

  She frowned. The other mal
es hadn’t done it this way. “This isn’t—”

  “You’re going to take me—and you’re going to come this way.” He relentlessly pressed in, past the tiny burn of abused flesh at the entrance, and filled her.

  Oh Gods.

  He purred as he started sliding in and out, going deeper each time, filling her so full she had trouble finding her breath. The way he felt was…amazing. Her core compressed with excitement, with need, and she leaned forward and back, trying to make him move faster.

  He laughed. “Push little cat.” Gripping her hips, he forced her to the speed he wanted. Controlling her. “I’ll speed up soon enough. First, let’s get you ready.”

  As he pressed back in, he leaned forward. The angle changed and he went even deeper, making her gasp.

  Bracing himself on one arm, he slid his other hand down her pelvis and over her clit.

  The intense burst of pleasure was shocking, and she clenched around his cock, making him groan. His fingers never stopped, circling her clit, teasing over it, even as he continued the slow in-and-out. The pressure within wound tighter and tighter. Her body drew to a razor’s edge, and she hung there, quivering.

  Then he gripped her hips with both hands and his thrusts grew deeper as he took her, hard and fast. Within seconds, the rhythm took her over, pushing her ever higher, and then…then everything inside her convulsed, shattering her with overwhelming pleasure as she spasmed around his cock.

  Owen watched the little cat’s back bow with her release—so fucking beautiful—and he kept thrusting, keeping her going until the clenching around his cock began to slow.

  Then he let his body take over, and he hammered into her with short fast strokes as the pressure built at the base of his spine, until his balls were drawn up so painfully taut that he wanted to bellow out his need. With the last thrust, he pressed deep, deeper, and released. The heat streamed out his balls, through his cock, filling the little cat with his seed.

  For the first time, he hoped his seed would find a home. He wanted to see her belly swelling with his cub. Wanted to—By the God, what was he thinking?

  He shook the wayward thoughts out of his head and leaned down to kiss her hair.

  She was trembling, panting, and her heart was pounding so vigorously he could almost hear it. The new shifter’d had two days of running as a cat, then an entire night of mating. Talk about being exhausted.

  “Poor kitten,” he murmured, straightening and running his hands over her back. The feeling of the scars from where she’d been whipped flattened his mouth. By the God, he’d see that never happened again.

  He frowned as he eased himself out of her. When she started to fall forward, he gently rolled her onto her side. She was half-asleep, and he should get her back to the fire. The moon had set. She could rest now.

  But… He’d heard some females, after mating, some wanted to be held. He’d never… And yet…

  He lay down behind her and pulled her back against his chest, curling around her to keep her warm, to protect her…to show her that she wasn’t alone.

  When she sighed and wrapped her hands around his forearms, keeping him close, a tiny sprig of contentment uncurled inside his chest.

  Chapter Seventeen

  ‡

  In the backseat of Gawain’s car, Darcy sat with her knees against her chest, staring out the window, and trying to understand her life.

  Earlier, she’d walked out with the males to where they’d hidden their clothing. Gawain had dashed ahead and fetched spare clothing from his car for her to wear.

  Donal and Tynan had left.

  Dressed in Gawain’s clothes, she was riding back to Cold Creek with him and Owen. Although Owen had offered her the front seat, Darcy had climbed into the back, because she wasn’t supposed to be in a car or really, in human form outside of Cold Creek. Was this how a criminal would feel?

  She sighed. Life was sure strange. And uncomfortable.

  Every time she looked toward the front, Gawain’s eyes in the rearview mirror caught hers. Even in a mirror, his intense gaze was piercing, and she remembered the way his hands had felt on her body, the thickness of his shaft, how the muskiness of his scent had increased with his lust.

  Her face turned hot with her flush, and she turned her head to stare out the side window again.

  Four males. She’d mated with four males last night.

  Donal had been gentle and kind, Tynan more…bossy. She was fond of them both, but if there hadn’t been a full moon drowning her in overwhelming need, she wouldn’t have mated with them.

  Gawain, though. Oh, she cared for him too much, under the full moon or not. When he talked with her, looked at her, touched her—it was the same as being plugged into an electrical socket, full of sizzle and heat.

  He was fun. Caring. Gentle, yet he had an unsettling core of strength. He matched his cahir blades—beautiful, smooth, balanced perfectly—and deadly sharp. She loved how he’d laughed, eyes dancing with enjoyment of life, even as he mated her so very…thoroughly.

  In the passenger seat, Owen turned to look at her, and his dark green gaze ran over her like a firm caress.

  He was vastly different from his brother.

  Had she ever met anyone so difficult to understand? Still, he’d been open with her. Honest and blunt and…kind.

  He was also extremely dominant. If he were a wolf, he’d be the pack alpha. Last night, he’d told her what would happen, what he’d do…what she’d do. And he’d followed through. He hadn’t been cruel—on the contrary—but firm with an edgy roughness, and very demanding.

  Why did she have to like him so much?

  Be honest, timid tinker. She more than liked him and Gawain, even though they were nothing resembling the males she’d daydreamed about as a child. Her fantasy lifemates had been sweet, gentle, funny. Tall and slender. Not huge and muscular.

  Certainly not blunt or deadly or…she smiled slightly…grumpy.

  As a cub, she sure hadn’t thought about the fact lifemates would…mate. Let alone might make love to their female at the same time.

  At the thought of Owen’s rough hands and Gawain’s slow, very thorough touch, warmth rolled up into her cheeks and pooled in her body. Oh no, what was she thinking? She could smell how her own body was reacting, which meant the males could scent her arousal as well. She closed her eyes in humiliation.

  Owen already thought females were manipulative, greedy creatures, and he’d been kind to her—last night anyway. They both had. But it had also been obvious a full moon mating didn’t mean anything more…serious. After all, she’d been with Donal and Tynan, too.

  As her spirits sank, the heat zinging through her veins cooled. Gawain liked her well enough, and Owen had said he liked her, but that didn’t mean either one would want more than friendship from her. They’d performed their…service…to her last night. Now, they’d return to being her mentors, nothing more. Lusting after them would be inappropriate, possibly even offensive.

  She cared for them…too much…and she mustn’t. Besides, she’d be leaving town the minute she could. Her mere presence endangered the Daonain.

  Looking out the window, she was relieved to see Cold Creek’s outskirts, then the small downtown. Gawain slowed and parked in front of Angie’s Diner.

  “Did we need to pick something up here?” she asked.

  “A text came through,” Owen said. “Calum said he’d be at the diner now.”

  “I’d hate to interrupt his breakfast.”

  Gawain snorted. “Nice excuse, but it won’t work. We are summoned, sweetling.”

  Oh my Gods. She’d washed as best she could in the cold creek water, but it sure hadn’t erased the fragrance of sex. Sex with four males. Humans would call her a slut.

  She wasn’t, was she? No. Having sex with multiple males was a Daonain tradition—and it shouldn’t matter if all the males knew she’d been a virgin.

  So why did the whole thing feel purely embarrassing?

  And now, meeting
the Cosantir after everything that’d happened last night? It was too much. Just too much.

  Owen opened the rear door and held his hand out for her to take, as if she were a granny incapable of standing on her own. Or a criminal he had to secure to ensure her compliance. Honestly.

  She scowled. “I won’t run.”

  A smile tipped the corners of his mouth. “I doubt you’d run from anything…except maybe being embarrassed.” Even as she stared at him, he hauled her out of the vehicle and headed for the diner. With an iron-hard arm around her waist.

  Gawain walked on her other side.

  Uh-huh. Criminal. Even if she wanted to run, she’d undoubtedly trip over the rolled-up legs of Gawain’s jeans. He’d had to string a rope around the waist to hold them up.

  With a sigh, she straightened her shoulders and marched inside.

  Sparsely filled, the diner had a wooden floor, blue-checked vinyl tablecloths, and a long glass-fronted counter filled with goodies.

  In a back corner, Calum sat with his mate, Vicki. When he saw Darcy, his expression went cold.

  He was angry. At her. Her stomach felt as if she’d eaten a mass of wriggling grubs. “Oh, he’s going to kill me,” she said under her breath.

  With his arm still around her, Owen looked down. “You weren’t seen by any human, so probably not.”

  Oh, Goddess. Calum’s killing her was a possibility? Her feet stopped dead in the center of the diner. Someone had said Cosantirs had the right of high, middle, and low justice, so Calum could execute shifters.

  But, but, but…

  Beside Calum, Vicki gave her a tiny smile and made a slight motion with her fingers. Come.

  Darcy pulled in a breath and tried to locate her spine. If he killed her, at least he’d do it quickly and neatly—not torture her as the Scythe would. As often as she’d thought she’d be dead, shouldn’t she be getting used to it by now? Jaded?

  Why did she have such a cold feeling in her belly?

  Owen dropped his arm from around her waist, maybe so she could walk to her death without looking as if she was being coerced. “Come, little cat. Time to fess up.”