Tagging Her Lynx (Alaska Lynx Clan) (11 page)

Even
in her human body, the hair at her nape stood on end. Her back arched, pressing
her breasts against his naked torso. The bare lips of her pussy grew damp,
where Granger shaved her the other day. The extra-sensitive skin pulsed with a
need to be impaled by his cock and  experience the way he alone brought her
fulfillment.

Chloe
pushed against him, but Granger held her back from dominating him. She ripped
her mouth off his and snarled. She shifted enough for him to view her cat's
eyes.

He
matched her show of power. He curled his lip, and she caught a glimpse of the
razor-sharp incisors. The beta in her backed away. Her nipples were rock hard.
A desire to get down on her hands and knees, open herself, and accept his
mating grew stronger.

Granger
slipped his hand around her neck, grasped her hair, and pushed her down to her
knees. Holding the back of her head, he used his other hand to bring his cock
to her lips.

"Open."
He ran his swollen cock head over her lips. "Take it."

She
obeyed, and her tongue came out to draw his cock into her mouth. Sealing her
mouth around his width, she sucked and consumed his cock. The large vein
underneath pulsed against her tongue, and she swallowed, hoping to ingest more
of him.

He
pulled on the fistful of hair. She cried out not from pain, but from having his
cock taken away.

"Don't."
Granger pushed her down farther and pressed her head to the floor. "Think."
He moved around and knelt behind her raised ass. His hand pulled her head up. "You're
mine." He slipped his cock slowly into her pussy and groaned. "Say
it."

Chloe
stretched her arms out in front of her body. Her fingers spread out on the
hardwood floor, bracing her body for the fucking she hoped he'd give. A trill
escaped her open mouth, approving of the position Granger had picked. This is
what she wanted outside in the snow earlier.

"Say
it."

"Mine."
She gasped.

He
ran the head of his cock along her slit. "You're mine. Say it."

"You're…"
She thrust back, but the hand in the tangle of hair stopped her.

"Say
it!"

She
growled. "Mine!"

Removing
his cock, he held her from him. "Say it all. Say, you're mine."

She
wanted Granger to dominate her. To put her in the place her body craved. She'd
submit to him and give him everything. "You're mine!"

The
added weight on top of her pushed her down on the floor. Her hips fought to
buck up and meet each powerful thrust, but he took away any freedom she had to
move. His hand still pulled her hair back. The rush of his hot breath beat on
the side of her neck.

"You're
mine." He latched on to the soft indentation where her neck met her
shoulder.

She
groaned. Her body convulsed underneath him, out of control. Tears came to her
eyes and fell down her cheeks as the contractions began at her very core and
spread out to each limb.

Granger's
pace sped up. His cock slid in and out with each burst of his cum filling her
cunt. She gasped for breath, unable to put any effort into the mating past this
point. He'd given her multiple orgasms, frequent thrills, but this was the
first time that her lynx got exactly what she wanted.

Granger
laid his forehead on the back of her head, loosened his clutch on her hair, and
shuddered. "Okay?"

She
nodded. "Yeah."

He
rolled off and lay on his back beside her without taking his gaze off her. "Incredible."
He blew out his breath. "Fucking unbelievable."

She
laughed. The sound came out low, husky, and filled with contentment. She should
have known.

"Your
lynx came out to play, didn't he?" She raised her head and propped her
hand under her chin. "I had no idea mine would merge with…me. That I'd let
her have control."

"I've
heard it could happen but have never experienced it before."

He
inhaled and turned his head to gaze up at the ceiling. "I remember my
father telling us boys that one day we'd touch the sky." He closed his
eyes. "He'd look over at our mother, smile, and get that dopey expression we
kids never understood."

"Granger…"
She reached out and stroked the side of his face, brushing the long strands off
his cheek. "I'm so glad that you have those memories and that you share
them with me."

He
rolled over onto his side. "What about your parents? Did your father talk
to you much about your mother?"

She
drew a deep breath into her lungs and let it out on a sigh. "I think…no, I
know my dad loved my mom. He lived off the memories he had of her." She
sat up and crossed her legs. "He wasn't really the kind of man who talked
about his feelings."

"I'm
sor—"

She
waved her hand. "It's okay. I loved him." She smiled. "I do love
to hear about your memories." She nodded. "I can't imagine growing up
seeing that love and having the experience of living with shifters your whole
life."

Granger
sat up, groaned, and pushed off the floor to stand. "I'm too old to sit on
the floor."

Chloe
laughed. "How about I fix my old man something to eat?"

She
rose and stepped toward the kitchen. "We can gain our strength back and
cuddle down for the night."

"Chloe?"

She
stopped and turned around.

"We'll
give our children that." His brows came down. "They'll have the
perfect childhood with parents who stay around for many, many years."

She
nodded, smiled, and turned around again to head to the kitchen. A lump formed
in her throat, and she swallowed. The doubts of her fertility reared their ugly
heads.

Chapter
Ten

"Fuck."
Granger whipped around and stared at Tucker, and then turned his golden eyes
back to the scene in front of him.
"How did they manage this?"

"Are
we sure they are humans?"
Tucker trilled and
moved over to make room for Lance, who joined the cats up on the snowbank.

"Yes."
Granger stood up.
"I'm going in. I'll try to hurry."

"Careful,
my brother,"
Tucker said.

Granger
stepped forward, paused, and gazed back at the handful of cats hidden in the landscape.
"Don't let them get back to the others."

In
a silent slink, Granger moved along the outskirts of the camp.

With
three durable winter tents fitted for sub-degree temperatures, these men took
their hunting seriously. He'd have to shift at the right time, surprise them,
and rush back into his lynx form. Naked to the elements, he'd not last long and
would have to work fast.

He
had no idea there were two groups of men that posed a threat to his clan. They
regularly watched the larger group, but this one appeared smaller. What did
they want? Were they after the shifters too, or were they illegally harvesting
animals?

Hate
coursed through his body, warming him up for the task, the only surviving
witness from the refuge incident his main target. He would take care of the
other men later if they pressed on and threatened the Lynx clan. He wished he'd
had more time to plan an attack.

Fighting
in the summer was much easier for the lynx.

He
slowed once he reached the back of the nearest tent. His ears perked up,
straining to pick up a voice he'd recognize. A cough and some rustling inside
gave him no clues. He moved on to the next canvas wall. The two voices inside
were unfamiliar. That left one more.

The
third tent sat farther away from the first two, and he dashed away from the
camp in case any of the men decided to come outside. The winter sun still hadn't
shown itself, but he wasn't going to depend on the dark for coverage. Chloe's
happiness rode on him getting back to her in one piece.

He
stopped once he was out of sight from the tents, and his eyes narrowed in
delight. He'd left his mate curled up in bed, satisfied beyond anything she'd
ever experienced. Hell, he walked out of the house with an extra spring in his
step.

A
zwing
from a zipper drew his attention, and he crept low on all four
paws. His heartbeat sped up at the sight of the overweight man from the refuge.
Holding his position, he curled his upper lip into a snarl. The man made this
easier than catching a chinook during spawning season.

Without
making a sound in the snow, he approached the man at a steady pace. Shifting at
the last possible moment, he flew through the air and tackled the man.
Unbalanced and caught off guard, the man lay face down in two feet of snow,
probably wondering what the hell hit him.

Granger's
arm wrapped around the beefy neck, and once he grasped the man's chin, he gave
it a quick snap, breaking his neck. He shifted and, keeping to the man's boot
prints, worked his way along the path the men used to hide any evidence that a
lynx caused the death.

"It's
done."
Granger sprinted across the land.
"Tucker
and Lance, stay behind and make sure everything is okay. The rest of you
—he
caught sight of the cats up ahead—
let's go home."

He
didn't break his run, and the others gathered on each side of him to follow him
back to Lynx territory. Pushing himself, he wanted to jump back into bed before
Chloe woke and found him missing. Not that he'd hide what he'd done this
morning, but why worry her now that the problem was resolved?

None
of the others milled outside once he reached the cabins. He shifted, walked
through his front door, and hurried to close it to keep the cold from rushing
in. Bouncing on his toes, he padded down the short hallway to the bedroom.

His
lips curved into a smile at the thought of Chloe's toasty warm body. He stopped
inside the doorway. Something wasn't right.

The
sweet, wild smell of his mate didn't fill the room. His hand swept the wall and
hit the light switch. Chloe wasn't in bed, and a heady, putrid smell filled the
room, telling him another man had touched his woman.

He
whirled out of the room, out of the cabin, and shifted while throwing out a
call for help to the others. Cats gathered in the center between the houses and
waited for direction. He joined them and scanned the faces with the hope of
seeing Chloe's.

"No
one has seen her?"
He turned to Darren.
"You
didn't hear anything?"

The
negative answers he received made breathing difficult. Pacing, he tried to
grasp how she could disappear right out from under everyone's watch. Who took
her? The humans who normally hunted them were back at their camp and accounted
for.

Why
didn't Chloe call for him? If danger came to her, she knew to let him know.
Unless…

He
stopped, snapped his head around, and directed his question at Jonathon.
"How
many men are usually in the group we watch?"

"Dominic?"
He paused and waited for him to step up.
"Go back to the camp, bring
back Lance and Tucker, and catch up to our trail."

He
turned back to Jonathon.
"Well?"

"Eight,
maybe ten at the most."
The lead man on the
cleanup crew stood his ground.

Granger
hissed
. "I made a mistake. I thought the hunters worked for one group.
We dealt with the threat to the refuge, but left ourselves open to the real
threat. Now they have Chloe."
He moved through the crowd, heading
westward.
"Same orders. The men who came with me earlier, come with me
now."
He turned his head.
"Darren, come along."

Cats
normally didn't run around in one large group, but Granger's only thought was
to find Chloe and keep her safe. Adrenaline coursed through his system, and he
picked up his pace. He should have sent the others to take care of business
this morning.
Fuck!

"We'll
find her, bro."
Darren looped up to the front with
Granger.
"I don't know how I missed the sons of bitches coming into our
camp."

"Just
help me get her back."
Granger let out a cry that echoed
over the land.

Without
knowing how much of a head start whoever took Chloe had, everyone ran their
best in hopes of making it to the camp they'd watched weeks ago. Puffs of
frosty breath exited Granger's mouth. By his calculations, it would take
another fifteen torturous minutes to arrive. He hoped they'd find Chloe there
unharmed.

The
hunters had long believed in the existence of shapeshifters. They ran a lab
outside of Juneau under the guise of a fishing charter business, but the clan
had managed to stay out of their hands for the last five years. Losing even one
shifter hurt the group as a whole.

"I
smell him."
Granger darted to the left, aiming for
the cover of a snow-laden brush.