Captive Moon (22 page)

He smiled and laughed. “Oui. La curìosite est un vilain defaut. But it doesn’t reference a cat. You’ve already given in to your initial curiosity. You claimed it, owned it, and survived mon chat du feu. If anything terrible was going to happen, it would have happened when we gave into our beasts just now, but we’re just fine.”

She moved her neck sideways and a dull ache twinged. “Oh, I don’t know about that. My neck still hurts.”

Antoine held up his arms and she was shocked to see long, bloody scratches that raked them from elbow to fingertips. “As do my arms. But not enough—” he said, and his voice lowered to a husky whisper—“to quell my desire for you. You’ve had your fun, but I have not, and I very much want to hear you roar in pleasure again.”

The intensity in his eyes seemed to burn through her defenses, and he noticed the change. His hand started to move again, stroking a teasing line down her skin that made her gasp. He seemed to be able to control his power to pinpoint precision, making her muscles twitch and dance from the lightest touch of his fingers. When he lowered his face to kiss the skin between her breasts, her arms unconsciously reached around him to pull him closer.

She nearly laughed. Apparently my body doesn’t much care what my head thinks about this.

Heat warmed her body as Antoine allowed his power to bleed outward, but she didn’t feel flushed and there was no pain around the edges like in the van.

Tahira moaned as he took her breast into his mouth, rolling the nipple with his tongue while his fingers explored between her legs. When he slid a finger inside her, the magical energy preceded him, pushed against the already sensitive skin enough to make her cry out and arch her back.

“That was a start.” Antoine growled the words possessively and slithered his body along hers until they were again face to face. “But I’m feeling a bit lonely.”

He reached behind him and took her hand, guided it between his legs and wrapped it around his erection. He lightly kissed her forehead and cheeks and then whispered into her mouth, “Make me believe you want me.”

He kissed her deeply and then turned on his side. He pulled her to face him and put a hand on either side of her face, pressing his mouth to hers in another passionate kiss. She needed no further invitation, and slowly began to stroke and squeeze his penis, enjoying the size and length, as well as the nearly burning heat and power that raced through her. His hands and mouth became more urgent as he gave in to his need, and he began to thrust against her hand, causing a thin liquid to coat her palm. She responded in kind—her slick opening ground against his leg, hungry for pressure against the swollen flesh.

With near panic, Antoine moved his mouth to her neck. Nipping and sucking frantically, he pushed her onto her back with a snarl. “Perhaps we’ll get more creative next time, but for now, I only want to fuck you until you scream for mercy. I’d suggest you hang on tight.”

He nibbled at her lips and then rose to his knees. Grabbing the back of her legs, he wrapped them around his waist and lifted her to meet his powerful thrust into her.

It all happened so quickly that she only had time for a startled yelp before his massive organ filled her again. He started a slow rhythm that increased in speed, causing a sharp, wet slapping sound with each stroke. She grabbed on to his shoulders to keep her head from slamming against the headboard from the sheer force. More power began to bleed off him, stuffing her completely full with everything he had to offer. She grabbed on to his hair and pulled herself upward into a kiss filled with lips and tongue and teeth. Her fingernails dug in the back of his neck and clawed down his shoulders, causing him to moan with passion. He gnawed lightly on her tongue and then pulled back, moving his hands to the back of her thighs. He pulled her legs open wider and raised them until her calves rested on his shoulders. The change in angle caused every tiny movement to constantly rub against her swollen clitoris.

Abruptly, he stopped moving, but she felt him throbbing inside her impatiently. With a chuckle, he pushed in just a fraction deeper, pressing against her cervix. It caused a full body shudder so intense it nearly hurt. His voice was filled with teasing. “Have you had enough? Shall I stop now?”

“I’ve never… I need… please!” She felt panicked and her breath started to erupt in pants.

“You ‘need’?” He pulled out slowly enough to drive her mad and then pushed himself in again. He was toying with her and enjoying it thoroughly. “You need me to stop? Or you need me to make you come so hard you scream?”

It was so hard to think. “I need… don’t stop.” She closed her eyes and nearly sobbed. “Please don’t stop, Antoine!”

He rearranged her legs against his neck and lightly stroked his hands down her burning thighs. With infinite slowness that made her whimper, he withdrew again and then slammed into her fully. The sudden movement against her swollen flesh hit her brain like a knife. A strangled cry rose from her mouth, and her hands scrambled and dug into his shoulders.

Where the first orgasm was without warning, this one built slowly in her abdomen. Her world narrowed to the sensation of her body moving on the bed, bent nearly double, totally possessed and helpless as Antoine rammed himself in and out of her in a near frenzy that was more fulfilling than any sensation she’d ever imagined. His aroma became a thick, sweet musk that was filled with citrus and spice and the lingering scent of brandy. Her own grew in response until the sandalwood-infused sex smell was nearly a cloud over the bed. Magic became a flame that seared over her skin and flowed through her veins like lava. The heat and pain terrified her, made her want to run away and hide from what was happening to her.

Then he smiled down at her, and it fluttered her heart, not just her body.

Trust me, the smile said. I’ll protect you.

“Let go,” he whispered. “Let the woman master the beast. Let the magic fill us both and make us whole.”

And somehow, she knew they could do it. He was just that powerful, and so was she. They could control the fire inside and it wouldn’t destroy them. Her fear dissolved and she gave in to a hunger that burned as rich and deep as the moon magic that created them.

Antoine began to breathe fast and hard. Low growls with each breath made her pulse race, and his power slowly pierced her belly like a dull blade. Down and down it seared until it was between her legs, turning her insides to jelly. She realized with a start that he was doing it intentionally, using the energy to bring her to climax.

“Time to scream,” he said breathlessly, and sent a wave of golden light to surround her and fill every pore to bursting. Every inch of her skin began to tingle and move as though a dozen people were fondling her simultaneously. Invisible lips kissed her, and the sensation of a mouth sucked on her neck, pulled at each breast and licked at her toes. The power vibrated and swelled inside her, stretching and moving like a caged cat desperate to be free. The pleasure increased until she was helpless and lost inside the fury of it.

She cried out his name over and over like a mantra and then just screamed—frantic, ragged sounds that made her throat hot. She clutched at anything and everything around her as he rode her to the most intense climax of her life. The sheer force created a spasm so strong that he could barely pull out of her and had trouble getting back in. But he let out a lion’s roar of raw power and thrust hard, pushing her body against the headboard. She could feel him expand inside her as he filled her completely.

But even then he wasn’t done, because he continued to thrust into her with slow, delicious strokes, fully enjoying his own orgasm until he was spent and limp. With each penetration and withdrawal, he pulled on the power inside her, reeling it back inside himself like fishing line until her skin felt cool and damp from the absence of heat. The sensation of pulling, combined with his slowing thrusts, caused another series of mini climaxes that left her breathless and boneless, unable to move or think.

When he finally released her legs and collapsed onto her, her face was damp from tears of pleasure and sheer exhaustion. After a moment, as their hearts slowed together, he pulled out of her and rolled to the side, drawing her against him until she was resting on his broad chest. She wrapped her arms around his waist contentedly, her eyes still closed in the afterglow and wonderful sensation of floating.

“And that,” he said a bit breathlessly, “is what the woman inside needed.”

It took two tries before she could moisten her mouth and work her jaws enough to get words out. “No shit! But I gotta tell you—the tiger is pretty happy about it, too.”

CHAPTER Eleven

“I want answers!” Sargon’s fingers dug into Zuberi’s dark throat, causing him to cough and gasp and roll his eyes as he fought for breath. “Explain to me why I should not turn you over to Dr. Portes as her next experiment!”

Nasil spoke in his place, taking a moment to lap in the delicious scent of the lion’s fear. It was probable that Zuberi would be unable to answer any questions for some time after Sargon was finished with him.

“The details are sketchy, my lord. But it appears that the tiger and the councilman became aware that the men Zuberi sent were tracking them. It is probably my fault for not considering the moon’s effect on heightening their senses. The kinsman of Zuberi is no great loss, but Juma’s death is upsetting.”

Sargon abruptly dropped Zuberi to the cave floor in a heap, where he gagged and wheezed through his nearly collapsed windpipe. “Yes, it is. It’s unfortunate that we will lose that source of information in the hyena camp. But the more pressing concern is Kareem’s capture. We cannot allow his loyalty to us to be discovered. He is known by too many on the council and in Wolven. Any one of them might be sent to eliminate him before the human authorities can try and sentence him for the animal deaths, and then our plan will be undone.”

Nasil bent his head in deference to his master. “What would you have me do? Who shall I contact to take care of this?”

He could feel Sargon’s eyes burning on him, but held his ground. “I think this is a job best handled by you, Nasil. Eliminate Kareem with a single bite before anyone can discover him.”

For the first time in a very long while, Nasil raised his eyes to his master’s in shock. “I?… Uhm, my lord, do you feel that wise? How can I explain the source of the poison or my presence? Technology is far superior to what it was the last time I killed by bite. If I were to be found out—”

Sargon turned his back. He paced a few steps with staccato movements, and it revealed a surprising frustration to Nasil. Then he turned with pursed lips. “I’ve considered that and dismissed it. I am not a fool, Nasil. I know the resources that coroners have available today. But this duty is too important to trust to just anyone. Fortunately, the German police will not allow the body to be removed or examined by anyone but their own until after an autopsy, and we have already eliminated all the Wolven agents who speak German. We will have captured the cat, filled and drained her, and then disappeared before that happens.”

“But… but, my lord—”

Nasil didn’t dare dart out his tongue to learn what his master was feeling, but kept his eyes on Sargon, even though he knew that level of attention was a danger.

Sargon let out a slow breath and then flicked his tongue rapidly to catch the air around him, “You can easily explain away your absence, and even if you’re found out, they have no way to find us. We will be leaving soon enough, so your discovery as a spy isn’t nearly as critical as Kareem’s death.” He stepped the few feet back and stared coldly at Nasil for a long moment. “However, I am concerned that perhaps your loyalty to me isn’t as strong as it once was. You’ve never before questioned an assignment. Murder is nothing new to you, and you have always been my first and best weapon. Why do you resist this small whim of mine?”

Nasil fought to suppress the flash of fear that cut through him like a knife. Fortunately, the air was still thick with the panic of the lion. When Sargon flicked his tongue a second time, he appeared slightly mollified by the fact that Nasil’s scent hadn’t changed.

Just to be safe, Nasil dropped to his knees and prostrated in submission, muddying the knees and forearms of the ski pants he wore to keep his body warm. Fortunately, the clothing underneath would remain unstained. “I would not fail you in any assignment you chose to bestow on me, my lord Sargon. But if our sleeper agents do not succeed in capturing the tiger, then we will continue to need the information I have for so long provided about the actions of the council. Also, there is the chance—

however small—that the girl is not a true power well. If she dies, then our future opportunities will be limited if I am outed or killed.”

He felt a flash of power, and then the thick, golden body of his master’s animal form rose above him.

“You raissse valid pointsss, and ssstate your case eloquently, Nasssil. It isss as you sssay—and yet I remain concccerned. Go forth and eliminate Kareem and then return to my ssside for further inssstructionsss. Awaken the sssleepers to perform the duty they were assigned.

Do not reveal yourssself if you can avoid it, but I will expect your absssolute loyalty if your identity is uncovered. Now go!”

Nasil closed his eyes and felt a sinking feeling in his stomach that only years of intense training kept from his scent. Further discussion was useless. He feared that Sargon’s judgment was growing unstable as plan after plan failed. He stood and looked up into the cold, golden eyes of the king cobra towering over him by nearly fifteen feet. Sargon’s head was bent just a bit to keep from brushing the cave ceiling far above, and his forked tongue flicked in and out of his mouth angrily.

His master’s hood was fully extended, and he opened his mouth to reveal fangs dripping with venom. Nasil didn’t flinch or turn his devoted gaze, even when the poison splattered on the rocks next to his feet. Sargon’s anger was the stuff of nightmares. Nasil hoped never to be on the receiving end. “Your will be done, my lord.”

“Yesss, it will be.” The cobra turned like lightning and slithered over to where Zuberi still cowered against the wall. “And now, my inept lion—let us sssee how quickly you can run.” With a flash of power, he forced Zuberi into his animal form. With an immediate leap sideways, as though expecting an attack, the lion avoided a spray of thick, yellowish venom and raced into the darkness. Sargon started to slither in chase, but then stopped before he reached the edge of the torchlight.