Jaguar's Kiss

Chapter Eight

Patch’s old Subaru bounced over the narrow track to Santiago’s house as Lila pushed the accelerator to the floor.

He had to still be there. He couldn’t just jolt her awake with a kiss, shake her up with unanswerable questions and walk away while she was still reeling. Unless this had all been a game to him. Toy with the Alpha’s little princess before strutting off into the sunset.

No. This was more than that. Even if Lila couldn’t trust her own instincts where he was concerned, Patch liked him.

The Land Rover was still in the driveway. Lila’s heart gave a hard thump of relief at the sight. He hadn’t left already.

The car skidded to a halt, throwing gravel, and Lila launched herself from the vehicle, the slamming car door announcing her presence. She knocked on his door, knuckles rapping the wood in a steady, unending staccato until it was jerked from beneath her hand, revealing Santiago—tall, dark, glowery Santiago.

“You’re moving to Seattle?” The words were more accusation than question.

“Not today.” He stepped back to make room for her to enter.

Lila stalked past him into the living room. “But you’re leaving. Just up and running away. Were you ever going to tell me? Or just slink off into the night?”

“I didn’t think I needed to say it. You can’t honestly have thought I would stay here and watch you marry Roman.”

She didn’t know what she’d thought. It was one of the things she’d been trying not to think about. Because when she looked at them head on, she was forced to admit the truth. Her shoulders slumped and she turned to face the fireplace, gripping the mantle. “I don’t want to marry Roman,” she whispered.

It was the first time she’d spoken the words aloud and it felt like the world cracked open, the earth suddenly jagged and unstable beneath her feet.

“What?” The door clicked closed, Santiago shutting them in, but Lila didn’t turn. Even from across the room, she knew he’d heard. His hearing was shifter-keen.

“I’m scared of marrying Roman,” she said, a little louder. She felt her face heating from the shame of her admission. “All my life I’ve known it would happen. I’ve been preparing for this, but I can’t help being terrified that I’m going to be the worst Alpha’s mate ever. I don’t like being in charge. I want to help people and make them feel at home here, but I don’t want to be the boss. That isn’t me. I’m going to be such a train wreck. Let everyone down. I’ve never wanted that life. I don’t want to be the Alpha’s mate.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“Don’t I?” She turned then, resting her back against the mantle. He was still safely on the other side of the room, and she studied him, truly seeing him for the first time since bursting in here.

The sleeves of his button down shirt were rolled up to the elbow, the deep green color making the rich brown of his eyes jump out in contrast. His black hair was disarranged, as if he’d been raking his hands through it all morning. The sight of him, tall and strong, and looking at her like she was his entire world, hit her low in the stomach as he moved to stand at the farthest point of the room from her—either to give her space or in the feline’s patient stalk, she wasn’t sure which.

“You could run away with me.” His voice was low and dark, everything seductive.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” He took another step, still circling rather than approaching.

Lila swallowed down a flood of helplessness. How to make him understand how trapped she suddenly felt, when she’d never let herself feel hemmed in like this before? “This is still my home. I owe them…”

“What?” he challenged, though the word was surprisingly soft. Tempting. “Your life? Your happiness? Your soul?”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?” Was it really so bad, what was being asked of her?

“Come away with me,” he said again, the words a sultry invitation. He circled again, closer this time. “Not forever. Just long enough to clear your head. Get away from the pride telling you what to do and figure out what you want for a change. Give us a chance to figure out if this is real.”

This. The other big thing she’d been ignoring. The way she wanted him. The way he seemed to want her. Lila closed her eyes and shook her head.

Why had she come here? To stop him from leaving? She should have let him go. She couldn’t have him, so why was she torturing them both like this? Let him leave. It was probably for the best. Then she wouldn’t ache like this anymore. She wouldn’t feel this sense that she was missing out by doing what she had to do.

“Lila.”

His voice was so close she jumped, her eyes snapping open. He was right there, his gorgeous face inches above hers, his hands lifting to cup her jaw.

“What do you really want?” he whispered, and then he kissed her.

It was everything she remembered and more. Heat and aching sweetness. Need in every caress. Her blood fired like lava pulsing through her veins. This was why she’d come. She’d needed this. Needed him.

His hands dropped from her face to grasp her shoulders, lifting her to her toes as he took the kiss deeper, his tongue stroking deliciously into her mouth. She gripped his shirt, loving the feel of his pecs against her fists and needing him for balance as the rest of the world tilted and slid away, and his large, capable hands roamed down her back and over the curve of her hips.

His mouth wandered, over her jaw, along her throat, finding her pulse point, his teeth scraping just hard enough to draw a gasp from her.

They had to stop. If they didn’t stop now she wouldn’t be able to. She wouldn’t want to. I already don’t want to.

“Santiago.” Lila pushed him away, but her hands stayed fisted in his shirt so he couldn’t go far. Everything was swirling, twisting and tangling in her head. Too many things she’d denied for too long crashing against one another.

“I lied,” she whispered, her voice surprisingly rough. “I remember everything about the day we met. No one had ever looked at me the way you looked at me, like I was yours and I just didn’t know it yet. It scared me. Because I knew I could want you, because I knew if I let myself want you I would never be able to stop and I couldn’t do that. I wasn’t free. I’m still not free. I belong to the pride. To Rom—”

He cut her off with a hard, brief kiss. “You belong to me,” he growled and those words curled her toes and made her breath come short. He fisted his hand in the hair at her nape and hauled her back against him with a hard arm banded across her back.

His possessiveness called to something deep inside her, an animal side that had always been ignored. Mine, she wanted to growl right back. This gorgeous man with his sinful good looks and fierce, untamable independence was hers and no one else’s. She gripped his shoulders, her claws snicking out to test his flesh and Santiago rumbled a deep throaty purr that vibrated through them both.

He broke off the kiss, breathing hard, eyes blazing a wild gold. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“Yours. Always.” No matter what else happened, no matter who she had to become when she went back to the real world, she would always be his. Lila pulled him back down to her mouth, biting his lower lip with a hard possessive nip. Mine.

Santiago’s answering growl wasn’t remotely human. He jerked her off her feet and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She would take this moment, take this night and brand him into her soul. If it was all they could ever have, she’d make it count.

She clung to him as he took the stairs to the master suite, carrying her weight easily, his muscles flexing firm and tight beneath the tips of her claws. She bit his shoulder where it met his neck, her lioness rubbing against the inside of her skin. Normally the feline side of her was quiet when she was in human form, but Santiago called to the animal in her, waking her cat and making it purr with his touch.

He dropped her onto the bed and came down above her, caging her with his arms. “No second thoughts.” It was a demand more than a question, but she answered anyway.

“Never.” She wouldn’t regret this.

She sank her fingers knuckle deep into his hair and pulled his mouth down to hers, devouring his lips in a long, hungry kiss. He nudged her legs apart to settle between them and one hand stroked up the bare length of her leg.

“These fucking little skirts,” he groaned against her lips. “You’ve been driving me mad with them for years. Every time I see you in another pretty, frilly little skirt I want to bend you over and flip it up and drive myself into you until you can’t remember your name.” His hand snuck beneath the fabric, long fingers hooking over the narrow waistband of her bikini panties and dragging them down an inch.

The image of him doing just that slammed into her brain and Lila shuddered deliciously. But instead of putting action to his words, he released her panties and stroked his hand back down her thigh, his fingertips brushing the underside of her knee, bending it up as he continued over her calf until his hand closed over her ankle. Her shoes today were strappy sandals, buckled over her ankle. Santiago deftly released one and slipped it off her foot, like Cinderella in reverse, before flicking it over his shoulder to thud against the wall and disappear.

“Fancy little shoes,” he rumbled, the words rough against the shell of her ear as his other hand repeated the upward path of the first. “Frilly little outfits.” He jerked her panties down an inch beneath her skirt on the other side and Lila lifted her hips to help him take them farther, but he didn’t take the bait, his fingers releasing and tracing down again, bending her knee, grasping her ankle. “You know what they do to men, don’t you? You know how they make us want to strip you of all your little decorations until every inch of you is bare.”

Her second shoe sailed over his shoulder. He placed her foot on the mattress next to his hip, her knees bracketing his waist.

“So what are you waiting for?” She braced her feet and rocked up against him, inviting him in with arms and eyes.

His grin was fierce as he bent to nip her ear. “Patience, reina mia. The prettiest packages take the longest to unwrap.”

“I never could wait to see what was inside,” Lila purred. “I love how this shirt brings out your eyes.” She flashed her claws. “If you don’t want me to shred it, you might want to get it out of my way.”

He laughed and reared back to strip it off, revealing a gorgeous stretch of golden muscle with an enticing trail of hair disappearing into his jeans. She ran her hands over his pecs then traced that trail down to unbutton his jeans. He groaned and pulled her hands away, caging them on either side of her head. “I thought we were being patient.”

She growled and pushed against his hands, not managing to budge him an inch. “I finally know what I want, and I want it now.” Before she had time to worry about the fact that she hadn’t done this before. She didn’t want to let the fear that he would be disappointed in her creep in, but the slower they went, the more time she had to realize she couldn’t compete with the women he must have known before.

He seemed to realize the flash fire of lust was fading because he lowered his weight against her and kissed her again. The press of his body, the sinful skill of his lips—she forgot her reservations as he pushed every thought but more from her mind. She twisted beneath him, aching to be closer, but he controlled everything—the pace, the pressure, every touch.

Until she sucked hard on his tongue as she thrust her hips up and ground against his erection, and all that tightly wound control snapped. He growled and yanked at her clothes, shoving her shirt and bra up to feast on her breasts, teeth and lips and tongue making her writhe and release breathless, eager gasps. He nibbled along the under curve of her breasts, his palms shaping the plump mounds, raising one nipple to his lips. His tongue flicked lightly across the swollen tip, then his teeth closed and tugged, triggering a surge of heavy, liquid heat, spreading through her body and pooling at her core.

Then he sucked, and each pull released another pulse of heat. She whimpered his name and he released her with a moist pop and a flash of his teeth, before he bent to give her other breast the same treatment.

Realizing belatedly that her hands were free, Lila traced her claws over his bare shoulders, feather light. He rewarded her with a drawing pull of his lips, then his hands were shoving at her clothes again. She helped him tug the clinging fabric of her shirt over her head and discard her bra, and this time when she lifted her hips, he reared back to slide her skirt and panties down her legs, caressing every inch on the way to her feet. Then she was naked. Vulnerable—if ever a predatory cat can be vulnerable. And purring.

An answering sound rumbled from his chest as he looked down at her, sprawled out on the royal blue comforter on his bed. “Perfect,” he rasped, reaching for his zipper. He shoved his jeans and briefs down over his hips and Lila’s nerves returned in a rush at the sight of him, large and veined and thrusting up toward her, the tip a rosy purple. She didn’t know what to do, how to touch him, but she reached out and gently brushed her fingers up the side of his shaft, catching the first drop of moisture from the tip on her fingertip and bringing it to her mouth. Santiago’s pupils dilated and he growled, “Fuck, Lila,” low in his throat, reaching for her with hard hands, dragging her toward him and positioning her as he wanted, her hips at the edge of the bed.

He fitted himself to her, notching the heavy head inside her and Lila gasped, fighting the urge to squirm against the intrusion. He hissed in a curse and dropped his forehead down to rest against hers, whispering a string of barely sensible phrases, not all of them in English, praising the tight clasp of her body, urging her to open for him, all the while rocking his hips to push in deeper. Too much. Lila stiffened, the pleasure-pain shifting into pure pain. She wanted to love it so badly, wanted it to be as good as all the books she’d read and the fire in her blood had promised, but the pain stirred her doubt and she stiffened, a soft, uncertain sound escaping her throat. Santiago reached between them, still whispering his smoky encouragement, and found her clit, rolling it beneath his thumb in a tight circle that unknotted every muscle in her body and wound it tight with a new kind of tension. A building, eager ache, twisting toward something, striving and pushing. He thrust deeper and Lila moaned, pushing up to meet him, his thickness stretching her, filling her until she could feel him in places she hadn’t known she had.

He rolled his thumb faster and her cries changed in pitch, high and desperate. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured against her ear, his teeth catching the lobe. “Just a little more.”

How could she take more? As his thumb worked her clit, his other hand splayed over her hip, holding her steady as he pushed into her with little pulses. He grabbed her knee, pressing it toward her shoulder, and with the angle he hit something inside her and her tension catapulted to a new level, the last of her reservations swamped by a tide of pure, blinding sensation. Lila cried out, breathless, panting his name.

He sank his teeth into her shoulder, his free hand linking with hers as he released the pressure on her clit with the other, flicked it lightly, then rolled it hard and pleasure slammed into her, rolled her under, shuddering through her limbs and melting her bones.

He hilted with her orgasm, pushing into her with short, deep pulses, then withdrawing all the way and driving deep. Before she could catch her breath, she was climbing again, punctuating the end of each sharp, fast thrust with a little cry and sobbing with the force of a second release hard on the heels of the first.

Santiago growled and lifted her off the bed, still deep inside her as he spun and pinned her against the wall, pounding into her, his claws digging into the plaster as rough, inhuman sounds ripped from his throat. She clung, wrapping her legs tight around him as he groaned, driving hard one last time and holding as his body shuddered and he spilled into her.

Dazed, Lila trembled with aftershocks, closing her eyes and trying to memorize this moment. The heat of him. The sweat. The fullness and the ache. His arms coming tenderly around her. His lips brushing her ear, whispering soft words in a language she didn’t speak but somehow understood. The way his voice wrapped around the vowels of her name. The gentle brush of his hand, pushing her hair back from her face. His low, groaning chuckle as he peeled them both off the wall and slid free of her body, sweeping her up into the cradle of his arms and carrying her to the bed to curl his body around hers.

She didn’t want to forget a moment of this. Because she could never have it again.