Leopard's Run (Leopard People 10) - Page 111

Timur cursed under his breath. He’d only been fighting for less than three minutes maximum and already they were surrounded by others. Ashe, thankfully, had done as he’d asked and was safe inside the guesthouse. He had no choice but to stop Temnyy from killing Gilbert’s leopard. He couldn’t very well kill him in front of Evangeline, but it was going to happen and soon.

He forced Temnyy to let go of the other cat’s throat. Gilbert’s cat lay panting and submissive, terrified to move one inch. Temnyy reacted the way all triumphant cats did. He snarled, paced, swiped his paw at his fallen challenger and then raced back to grip him in a suffocating hold. Timur took a firmer hold on his cat. Snarling, Temnyy once again complied, backing away.

When he got his leopard calm enough, he directed him toward the guesthouse and away from the humans. He wasn’t feeling very humane himself in that moment. He wanted to rend and tear and rip into Evangeline’s family. He wanted to snarl at his brother for stopping him from killing. Mostly, he needed to get to Ashe. Her scent had driven him crazy and Temnyy was even more so, in the throes of their females being in heat.

Deliberately, Timur shifted, going to his full height instantly, walking naked, his back to them, letting Evangeline’s family see what they were dealing with. He had scars. Masses of them on his back, buttocks and thighs. They were from leopards as well as from whatever implement his father had thought would induce the most pain the fastest. Let them see that he’d survived all that.

They needed to learn respect. Temnyy was a vicious combatant, one that no other leopard should challenge unless they were prepared to die. He didn’t fight to allow his enemy to come back another day. He fought to kill. He stalked into the house and slammed the door hard, letting his brother know he could go to hell. There would be no one disturbing him until his woman was completely sated and so tired she couldn’t move.

She was waiting for him, the gun on the table beside her hand. She had stripped down to her bra and panties in anticipation of his win. He would talk to her about that later; right now, there was only one thing to do. He didn’t stop walking once the door was closed. He stalked right across the room, knocking away the one chair blocking him with a swipe of his hand, clearing his path to her.

He went right up to her, caught the front of her bra with one hand and ripped down as he fisted her hair, tipped up her face and slammed his mouth down on hers. Fuck. Fuck. She was pure fire. The heat hit like a fireball, pouring down his throat and rushing through his veins to settle into a storm of flames in his groin.

He walked her backward until she was pinned against the wall and he could lift her, taking her left breast into his mouth, wanting to swallow her whole. He sucked hard, heard her cries, felt her fists in his hair, her body squirming against his. His settled her on his thigh, so she could rub all that fiery heat over him while he suckled. He worked her right nipple hard, feeling the flow of liquid every time he tugged or rolled. He raked with his teeth, bit down lightly, lapped with his tongue, used the suction of his mouth to drive her wild.

He was wild, feral almost, the adrenaline from the fight in his bloodstream, driving him to greater peaks of hunger and need. He was desperate for her, needing to hear her moans, needing her to surrender everything she was to him. He would take nothing less. His mouth moved from her nipples to the undersides of her breasts, determined to claim every inch of her. There would be no doubt who she belonged to before the night was over.

He used his teeth there, his tongue, sucking and then gently biting his way around her breasts and down her belly. Her moans and pleas added to the thundering roar in his ears. He slid his hands down her spine, taking her in, feeling every inch of her that he could reach. His woman. His heart jerked so hard in his chest he was afraid it would shatter.

He was on his knees, yanking her thighs apart, catching every drop of honey she had. Ruthless with his tongue, desperate for everything she was. Ashe. He was so in love with her he wasn’t certain what to do with the overwhelming emotion that shook him to his very foundation.

Timur knew, in the throes of a female leopard’s heat, sex was rough and hot, but he also knew his woman was sore. She had to be scared after what had happened with his challenger. He needed to find a way to temper the drive their leopards gave them.

Tags: Christine Feehan Leopard People Paranormal
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