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“Kotyonok.” He whispered in Russian. Softly. Gently. Almost tenderly.

The way he called her “kitten” twisted at her heart. He definitely used the term as an endearment, his velvet voice wrapping around each separate syllable like a caress. He was a tough, dangerous man, and yet whenever he was around her, he seemed to be gentle and sweet.

“Don’t look at me as if you fear me. I would lay down my life for you. If you’re in some kind of danger, you need to tell me. I have resources. I was raised a certain way. It wasn’t a good way, but it did turn me into a weapon, and I’ll be that for you if it is needed.” He picked up his glass of sparkling cider and regarded her over the rim. “Some of us can hear the truth or a lie when it is spoken. I hope you are able to hear the truth.”

She couldn’t look away, mesmerized by him. Every single cell in her body was aware of him. Tuned to him. That thing inside her, wild and feral, was aware of him. Unlike her, the entity wasn’t afraid of him. Her body grew hot, her skin feeling too tight. Her jaw ached. Her skull felt as if it might explode.

Mitya rose and held out his hand to her. She could barely see with the heat banding in front of her eyes. At the same time, the quiet need of him, that smoldering fire deep inside, exploded into a fierce furnace. She gasped and let him pull her out of her chair and into his arms. His mouth came down on hers and the world tilted. Spun. Would never be the same.

Fire poured through her. Hot. Addicting. His taste like no other. It was as if once his mouth was on hers, he planted some spicy aphrodisiac inside her, setting up a craving for life. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to him, letting him take complete control. He took her over, the kisses changing, becoming more aggressive, rougher, more demanding. She followed his lead. Gave him everything he wanted and more. She held nothing back because she couldn’t. It was impossible when his mouth was a haven. A sinful temptation. Absolute perfection.

He murmured to her as he moved with her. She felt as if she were floating. His hands stroked her body, and the heat grew so intense she thought she might melt. He turned her away from him, pressing her against the wall, his mouth on her neck.

“Do you feel her rising?” he whispered. His teeth scraped back and forth in a sensual rhythm against the wild pulse beating in her neck. He kissed his way to her nape and then bit down gently on the junction between neck and shoulder, making her shiver with need. His other hand pushed the little crop top up along her back to her neck. “Do you feel her need, Ania? The way she grows so hot?”

Her skin was hot. Scorching. Between her legs, her sex throbbed and burned. Her clit pulsed and pounded. Her breasts ached for his touch. She wanted him with every breath she drew, and she was panting raggedly. Desperate for air. Desperate for him.

He kissed his way up her spine and to her shoulder. “Your skin is like satin. So soft. Softer even than it looks. Hold still, kotyonok, very still. Let them come together just for a moment.”

She felt the slide of fur on her bare skin. A blast of hot breath. She tried to turn her head, but his hands refused to allow it. She couldn’t move, and her heart thudded hard in her chest. Fear kicked in. She was all primal instinct in that moment, but it was too late, and he had her trapped between his solid, muscular form and the wall.

Teeth clamped down on her shoulder, just below the bone. Pain burst through her body. She cried out, choking with fear and excitement. Deep inside she felt that feral creature rising toward the surface to meet the male leopard. Even though she couldn’t see him, Ania knew it was a leopard and he was big. Very large. Very strong. She could feel his power and absolute determination. For a moment she felt the two leopards come together, male and female. Bonding. She knew that was what it was. Her female wholly embraced the male as her mate.

Then her female subsided, sliding away so there was barely a trace of her, leaving Ania alone and afraid. She felt the burn as the leopard released her and then the rough rasp of his tongue over the bite marks. A slide of fur and he was gone, leaving her shaking so hard she was afraid she would have fallen had Mitya not been holding her.


Tags: Christine Feehan Leopard People Paranormal