Page 10 of Savage Nature


  She forced herself to stop again, dragging in air, the sound harsh and ragged. "I'll try if you promise to do it--to mark me as yours."

  A sound escaped his throat, half growl, half groan. "Your leopard will settle soon. If you still want me to do it after she retreats, I will. But it has to be your decision when you're not in the midst of a thrall. You have to want me, not just any male because your leopard is out of control."

  She reveled in the hoarseness of his voice. He was suffering just as she was. She could see his need burning just as deep as her own. Tears clogged her throat. She had to find the strength to resist the need to desperately plead with him to take her. It was humiliating to know he was turning her down and she was shamelessly enticing him, but her body burned and throbbed until she was so edgy with need she couldn't be still.

  "Talk to me. Anything. Tell me about the leopards." Anything to take her mind from the clawing hunger.

  "We're a species living long past our time," he said. His voice had an edge of hoarseness to it, but he struggled to soothe her. "There are pockets of us all over the world, mostly in the rain forests. I was shocked to learn you have a lair here. I think Fenton leased his company's land to the families to give them a place to run free and live without fear of discovery."

  She ran her hand down her aching body, trying hard to concentrate on his words when she was burning from the inside out. She knelt back onto her heels, cupping her aching breasts, her fingers pressing hard against her burning nipples.

  Drake swore. There were small beads of sweat on his forehead. "Damn it, Saria. Give me something to work with here."

  He took a step toward her and she willed him to continue, to take the decision from her. She eyed him hungrily. His face was carved with sensual lines, his eyes golden and hooded, glittering with stark, raw hunger. She'd driven him beyond endurance. If she touched him, his control would be gone and he would take her just the way she craved, right there on the floor, wild and uninhibited, his body pounding into hers, relieving the terrible ache. He took another step toward her with a groan of despair.

  The sound echoed loudly through her mind. Drake Donovan was a man of honor. He was trying to save her from herself. He was trying to save both of them. What the hell was she doing to him? Shocked, she pressed one hand to her mouth and held the other one up to stop him. He'd done everything but pour cold water over her.

  "I can do this, Drake." Determination crept into her voice. "Just give me a minute. Tell me how to control her."

  He took a deep breath and ran his hands up and down the strong columns of his thighs as if his skin itched, or was too tight--just as hers was.

  "She is you, honey," he explained. "You're feeling both of your needs. It doesn't help that I'm in the room with you. If we're mates, as both my cat and I believe, we've known one another in at least one past life, and we're familiar with each other's body. The addiction is already there. You're fighting all of that."

  She swallowed hard. "Step out of the room. Just for a moment. Give me a moment."

  She knew he would, although she didn't know why she trusted him so much. Or how she could behave in such a terrible wanton fashion and still look him in the eye. She was unashamed of wanting him--just ashamed of her behavior. If he would be honorable, so could she.

  Drake looked at her for a long moment, his gaze hot, revealing he was skating to the very edge of his control before he moved away from her. The tension in him was tangible, as it was in her, a torturous, skin-crawling, belly-clawing need neither could hope to ignore.

  "You won't make me dishonor him," she hissed to the entity living inside of her. She took a deep breath and willed the female leopard to retreat. "I need time to get used to you. Give me some breathing room."

  Her skin itched and her jaw ached, but the terrible fire eased a little without Drake in such close proximity. She closed her eyes and let lust wash over her, accepting the terrible, almost violent desire rushing through her like a fireball. Her blood ran hot, and she just kept breathing to try to cool down.

  It took a few more minutes of deep breathing before she dared look around her. Her vision slowly cleared. Her body trembled uncontrollably. There was no way to get to her feet, but thankfully, reason was creeping in.

  Grateful, Saria crawled to the bed and pulled herself up so she could rest her stomach against the edge, lean over and lay her face against the cool comforter. She wept for a few minutes, unable to stop. Nothing in her life had prepared her for such violent need. What would have happened if she'd been with a male other than Drake and her leopard had been so needy? She couldn't just blame it on her leopard. From the moment she'd laid eyes on Drake Donovan, she'd wanted him. She couldn't help it--maybe because he was a handsome stranger with some undefined power clinging to him. Maybe she was just a raw country girl who had no real experience with such a man, but whatever the reason, he'd set her blood rushing hotly and her pulse pounding. That had to have added to the clawing hunger entrenched inside her.

  Drake stood at the edge of the doorway, watching Saria as she leaned against the bed and wept. The T-shirt rode up over the curve of her bottom, revealing small pink-striped underwear. The material fit lovingly, showing the smooth undersides of perfectly rounded cheeks. His cock, already pulsing with urgent desire, dripped, the tightness intense. Every nerve ending seemed centered in his groin.

  She was everything he'd ever dared to dream of. He wanted a woman of courage. Of passion. One who preferred the outdoors and was unafraid to be his partner. He wanted a lot of sass and a little ferocity. Saria was the embodiment of all those things. He knew she belonged to him, but she was young and inexperienced. The idea of being a shifter was new to her and the intensity of the mating cycle of their species had to be frightening.

  "Saria?" Drake kept his voice gentle, tried--without much success--to keep the lust and passion from his tone. The craving for her didn't let up, not for a second, and he knew it never would even if she rejected him.

  Saria slowly turned, sliding to the floor to sit with her knees drawn up and her back to the bed. She sent him a tentative smile and his heart did that strange stuttering. He knew what courage that little smile had to have taken.

  She didn't flinch away, but looked him straight in the eye. "I think you're safe now. I'm not goin' to jump you."

  He gave a soft, self-deprecating laugh. "I'm not certain that's good news. I don't think I've ever wanted anything more in my life than I want you. It's not going to go away." He wanted her to hear the ring of truth in his voice. "I'm afraid we might be in a little trouble here, honey." He pulled a water bottle from his pack, opened it and handed it to her.

  Saria took the bottle and patted the floor beside her.

  Drake hesitated, afraid of what could happen that close to her, but she didn't drop her gaze from his and he couldn't resist the temptation of her trust. He sank to the floor beside her and drew up his knees. Their hips and shoulders touched. One soft thigh rubbed along his as she shifted a little, taking a long drink and handing him back the bottle.

  "This is goin' to happen again?"

  "Yes. And next time this will end far differently." He set his mouth over the rim of the bottle, where hers had been. He could taste all that pent-up lust--or maybe it was his.

  "How many times have you been through this with a woman?"

  He frowned at her. "I've seen a woman go through the Han Vol Dan, and of course my leopard was affected, it sets males on edge, but she wasn't my woman. I didn't have to fight like this for control. This is . . . beyond imagining."

  "Do you want this to happen again--with me?"

  He shook his head over the absurdity of the question, his gaze drifting possessively over her face. "I think of you as mine. Of course I want it to happen and if we're together, Saria, it's inevitable. You have to face that and I meant what I said. The next time you're in that state, I'm going to be inside your body. Once I take you, I'm not going to stand aside, so know what you're getting into befo
re you make a decision."

  She reached for the water bottle, took another sip and licked her lips. Her dark eyes met his again. "Kiss me."

  He studied her face. "You like playing with fire?"

  "I don' understand. It's a kiss."

  He took her hand and curled her palm over the large bulge in the front of his thin cotton pants. Heat spread through both of them. An electrical current surged through both of them. "It's not just a kiss, Saria. Don't try to fool yourself."

  "I have to know."

  He arched an eyebrow at her. "You have no sense of self-preservation. If I were any other kind of man . . ."

  "But you're not," she pointed out.

  The confidence in her voice shook him. He swore and took another cooling drink. She hadn't removed her hand and damn him to hell, but he didn't want her to.

  He curled his fingers around the nape of her neck and tipped her face up to his as he brought his mouth down on hers. He tried to be gentle, but he didn't feel gentle, he felt raw and desperate and she tasted like heaven. "Open your mouth." He growled the demand.

  She obeyed, her lips trembling, and his tongue slid against hers, drawing her sweetness deep inside him. The room spun away as he indulged himself. It was all he could do not to devour her. Her mouth seemed to have a direct connection to his every nerve ending. His groin hardened impossibly, an ache he feared would never go away. She melted into him, so that he breathed for her, exchanging something intangible as they devoured one another.

  He was the first to pull back, afraid they would burn out of control again. They stared at one another a long time, gazes locked, breath coming in ragged, harsh gasps, with that strange electrical current sizzling between them.

  "Does that answer your question?" If it didn't, Drake wasn't certain they could ever touch one another again. His mouth on hers was like lighting a stick of dynamite.

  She nodded, touching her lips with trembling fingers. "I've never liked kissing," she explained. She pressed her lips together, as if holding on to his kiss. "That was definitely not my normal reaction."

  "Thank God for that," Drake said, meaning it. The thought of her kissing any other man like that was enough to make him want to commit murder.

  "I had to know." Saria looked a little dazed. She looked up at him expectantly. "So, okay then."

  Her lashes were incredibly long. He leaned close and brushed the corner of her eye with his mouth. "Okay what?"

  "Do it. I want you to do whatever you said that leopard did to me. I don' want him. If I'm goin' to really turn into a female leopard totally out of control, I want you." She stared directly into his eyes. "I'm makin' the choice. I want it to be you, not some other male I don' want to be with."

  His cock jerked beneath the warmth of her palm. His fingers shackled her wrist and he gently lifted her hand away before he lost all reason. His mouth went dry and his heart pounded too hard, too loud, too fast. "Honey, you don't know what you're saying. If I put my mark on you and your leopard accepts me, we're making a lifetime commitment. I would never let you go. We'd be married, have children and do all those things you're not so certain you want to do. I'm not a boy to have a crush on. You have to be certain you know what you're getting into."

  "I'm tryin' to figure it all out," Saria said, and took the water bottle from him again. She tipped the contents down her throat. "You told me this is goin' to happen again, right?"

  He leaned over to lick a lingering drop of water from the edge of her lip before he could stop himself. They stared at one another. He felt a little as if he were falling into that dark expanse of chocolate as he barely managed a nod of assent.

  "Then I want you. Whatever happens, you're a man of honor and I can live with that."

  She didn't know what she was giving to him. She was too young and had no idea of the laws of their people. "Once we consummate our relationship, if a man touches you, one of our people, a leopard, he's challenging me to fight to the death for you, Saria. Understand this. I am leopard, born and bred in the rain forests and even as a man I have the law of that world imprinted into my bones. I live by that law. I would fight for you with the last breath in my body."

  She swallowed hard, but she didn't look away. "As I would you."

  "Why? Why tie yourself to someone unknown?"

  "Who then? The male that attacked me?"

  "There are others."

  "My brothers . . . and that would be eww."

  He shook his head, knowing he was killing his chances, but he felt protective toward her and in any case, once she wore his mark--she was his. It mattered little if their relationship was consummated or not. He could wait until she was ready and felt safe merging her life with his, but he wanted her to come to him knowing her options.

  He got to his feet and reached down to help her up. "Fenton leased his lands to seven families. I'm betting all seven families are leopard. There must be available males within those families."

  She was intelligent and quick. She knew exacty which seven families he was referring to. She knew every family in the swamp and she had to have noticed they stuck together.

  "Yes, I know all of the available men."

  "They'll all want a chance to see if your leopard will accept them."

  "I don' want them." She stood close to him, looking him straight in the eye. "But I don' want you to feel as if this is something you have to do. I don' belong with any of them. I grew up with them. If I was attracted to one of them, wouldn't I already feel it?"

  "You think you could fall in love with a man like me? Male leopards are bossy, arrogant, temperamental and jealous as hell."

  A smile teased the edges of her mouth. He could see trepidation in her eyes, but she refused to back down. "I figured as much."

  A slow smile began somewhere around the edges of his heart. "You're sure, because there's no going back. They'll smell my scent on you."

  "You couldn't smell his scent," she pointed out.

  "He didn't know what the hell he was doing. No self-respecting leopard would tear your skin like that. He was so busy trying to mark you as property, he neglected to inject his scent into you. Your leopard couldn't have been close to the surface or his leopard would have reacted."

  "I don' understand," she said, "but it doesn't matter." Her slender arms slid around his neck and she leaned her body against his, lifting her face to his.

  He felt her soft breasts against the wide expanse of his chest and a small groan escaped as he lowered his head. He took her mouth with more of an edge this time, letting some of his hunger spill out, allowing himself the indulgence of feeding on her sweetness, of taking command of her mouth. He moved her more fully into his arms, the ropes of muscle locking her there, his kiss aggressive and demanding.

  A part of him still expected resistance, but she melted into him, pliant, all soft skin and heat. She simply opened herself to him and he poured himself inside of her. Whether she could fall in love or not, he knew he could. Whatever strange connection there was between them wasn't all leopard heat.

  "Get on the bed, baby. Lie on your stomach."

  She shivered, her eyes enormous. This was a huge step in trust. She would be completely vulnerable, but, he realized, she'd been as vulnerable as a woman could be with him earlier and he'd protected her. She looked at him for a long time before she did as he asked. He noticed she was very careful to pull the T-shirt over her thighs. Her silky hair spilled over the pillow, the ragged ends making her look like a pixie princess.

  Drake crawled on the bed beside her, stretching out, propping his head up with one hand while he massaged the tension out of her with the other. "I need you to tell me everything about the bodies you remember," Drake murmured, his voice low, almost hypnotic.

  Her long lashes flickered. She was tensed, waiting for him to hurt her as the other male had done, but he simply massaged the knots in her shoulders while he waited for her response.

  "I didn't know any of them. I found the first one a few months ag
o. I was out in the swamp taking pictures of a family of owls, the mother feeding the babies, and I saw lights over by Fenton's Marsh. No one goes there. It's kind of an unspoken rule. We all have kept our word to Jake Fenton and we watch that piece of land for him."

  "There's undeveloped oil there," Drake said, mostly to see her reaction.

  "We all figured as much. That's not our way of life. And I don' think the body dumped just off the marsh had anything to do with oil either. There were two boats. I thought drugs or gun runnin' you know. The swamp is isolated and if you know your way around, you could elude law enforcement fairly easily. You can get to the lake, the river or the gulf."

  He rolled onto his stomach, settling his chest over her, both hands working on her muscles, his elbows propping him up. He waited until the flare of tension in her receded under his massaging fingers. He wanted her to feel relaxed and unafraid.

  "So you see lights in the middle of the night, figure drug smuggling, or possibly gun running, and you jump right in your little boat and head over there alone. I got that right, didn't I? You thought that would be a good decision?"

  She gave an inelegant snort, half laughter and half derision. "I waited for them to leave, Drake. I wasn't just goin' to stick my head in a noose. I didn't expect to find a dead body."

  His fingers gentled, stroked and caressed. No, she hadn't expected a body, but she'd hauled it out of the water and examined it with alligators around in the middle of the night. He sighed. She was definitely going to give him trouble.

  "I didn't know him. He looked about forty. He was in good shape, had a tattoo on the back of his hand. I sketched it. Someone had stabbed him in the stomach, but that wasn't what killed him. A leopard had bitten his throat and suffocated him. It was a kill bite."

  He bunched the T-shirt at the hem and slowly worked it up over her firm, rounded bottom and those intriguing pink-striped boy shorts. Higher still, over her waist and up the expanse of her back until he had the shirt raised to her neck, exposing all that soft skin.

  Saria swallowed hard and started to turn her head to look at him, but he gently stroked his hand down her hair, preventing her. "And because he was both stabbed and bitten, you were afraid it was one of your brothers," he ventured. He began idly tracing circles on her back, between her shoulder blades, occasionally sliding caresses over the long, nearly healed furrows.