Hostage to Pleasure

Dorian watched Ashaya from his bedroom doorway. He’d been sleeping the light sleep of a leopard on guard, but even so, he’d dreamed. Not of ice and death, but of a beautiful woman’s cries of pleasure. In sleep, he’d run his tongue over that perfect silky skin, so rich, so tempting that he’d barely resisted the urge to bite, to mark.

Then she’d whispered, “Do it. Take me.”

He’d woken hard as a rock, and very aware that Ashaya, too, was awake. He’d listened to her move around, figured out that she was grabbing some breakfast. Joining her had sounded like a good idea. But by the time he got his erection under control, she’d finished her cereal, and was taking a seat by the window.

Intensely curious about her, he simply watched as she brought her breathing and heartbeat under a level of control he’d never witnessed in any living creature. It was almost as if she’d willed herself out of existence.

He came closer on silent feet. It was as he crouched down beside her that he realized how fragile she really was. Intellectually, he’d always known that her bones were weaker than his, her physiology much more breakable. But when she was awake, he tended to forget. He saw only the cold steel of her spine, the chilly determination of her gaze. Strength. He saw a woman of incredible strength.

But now, as his eyes took in the naked skin of her nape, framed by two tight braids, he glimpsed the vulnerability of her. Her body was curvy, quintessentially female, but delicate, too. He had the certain awareness that he could close his hand over her shoulder and crush it.

His beast snarled at the idea.

Agreeing with the sentiment, he maintained his silence and continued to study her. As he’d witnessed a number of times now, she could put on the appearance of a perfect Psy on cue, but he knew in his gut that that was all it was-an appearance. No woman could have faked the reaction he’d scented in her on the balcony. Fury. Pure, pissed-off female fury.

But not only was her act damn good, the fact that she’d survived in the Council ranks for as long as she had meant she was also brilliant at the games of manipulation that were the Council’s stock in trade. Yet she’d never played those games with him, choosing brutal honesty instead.

What right do you have to call me anything? You, with your prejudice and your self-pity.

It made him want to bare his teeth, but not in anger at her-he’d been acting like an ass and she’d called him on it. But there was one thing he couldn’t understand-the way she wouldn’t go to her son. He’d offered to take her again this afternoon. She’d refused.

Yet even that disquieting fact wasn’t enough to temper his hunger where she was concerned. Lucas was right-he was snarling at her because he wanted her as he’d never before wanted a woman. His leopard was constantly fighting him for control, trying to overrule his humanity. It was strong. Getting stronger. So strong that Dorian had begun to wonder if a latent could go rogue in the true sense of the word, losing his humanity and surrendering completely to the savagery of the cat… becoming a leopard on two legs, a man who cared nothing for a woman’s fragility, only for her submission.

Her eyes opened.

Locked with his.

“Why are you watching me?” Her eyes, he saw, were not blue, not truly. They were a vivid pale gray with blue shards coming in from the outer ring to hit the pure black of her pupils. Strange eyes. Wolf eyes.

“My leopard is fascinated by you.” By her sensuous, flawless skin, her wild hair, her damn curves. He leaned in and blew a gentle breath that made a rebel tendril dance. “I dreamed of running my tongue across your skin.” He spoke to release some of the tension, to leash the beast before it broke its bonds. “Of exploring you in long, slow licks.”

She didn’t break the deeply intimate visual connection. “You’re crossing lines again.”

Hell, yeah. It was either that or go insane. “And your heartbeat just got erratic.” The cat smiled, pleased. Ashaya Aleine wasn’t as immune to him as she liked to pretend. “What would happen if I tasted you? If I took a bite out of you?”

Another spike in her heartbeat, music to the leopard’s ears. But when she spoke, it was to say, “Nothing.”

He gave her a sleepy-eyed look that he knew screamed challenge. “Then come here.”

“You’re disturbing me.”

“Good.” He smiled, playful and wicked, realizing he had the advantage-Ms. Aleine wasn’t used to playing with cats. “I don’t like being ignored.”

“Get used to it,” she said, surprising him, delighting him. “I’m working.”

“Oh?” He was genuinely interested. “I though M-Psy saw inside the body and diagnosed illnesses.” His family had consulted several when his inability to shift had become apparent. All had been brilliant, but not one had understood what it meant to a changeling to be denied half of who he was.

Ashaya’s gaze skimmed down his body. “Isn’t that an uncomfortable position?”