The Man Within (22 page)

The men who had attacked last night were no more than hired guns. Sometimes they worked for the Council, sometimes they worked for other sources. There was more than one source popping up in the world that had decided the Breeds didn’t deserve life. Reginald, if involved, was only one of many.

He was her father. He was the man her mother had loved. Her sweet, gentle mother. Roni laid her head against the cool glass of the balcony door and fought the pain ripping through her chest.

Margie Andrews had been one of the kindest, gentlest souls. Roni barely remembered her, but she remembered how her mother sounded, the soft lullabies she sang to her, the whispered promises of a better life. And she remembered her mother crying.

It was one of her strongest memories from childhood. Her mother’s cries, muffled, pleading, as she begged Reginald for mercy.
Please, Reggie. Please don’t hurt me…

Roni flinched as the words echoed through her mind. It was her last memory of her mother. The last words she had heard Margie speak. The next morning her mother left for work, an hour later she was dead.

“Weak bitch,” Reginald had muttered at the funeral. “She didn’t fight enough.”

Roni had never been certain what he meant by those words, but as she grew older, they had stayed with her. Had he been behind her mother’s accident? Or had it been another of his muttered ramblings in regards to her mother’s frail health?

She had been alone then and she felt alone now. She stared into the darkness fighting the old fears, the old wounds. She could feel the brink she stood on and it terrified her, the knowledge slowly building inside her.

Her mother had loved Reggie with a single, driving obsessive emotion that had terrified the young Roni. It hadn’t made sense to her, how easily her mother would bow to his demands. She’d push aside her own wants and needs in deference to him. Even more than that, she pushed aside her daughter’s. How many nights had dinner been a meal of cornbread and the meager amount of potatoes her mother had grown in the backyard because Reggie had taken all the money for himself? Or the times she had watched him slap her, scream at her, because they had eaten the last of the groceries in the cupboard, leaving him to fend for himself?

Her fists clenched. She had sworn she would never need a man so desperately. Had sworn she would never let herself be used, broken, because she loved. And here she was, unable to break away from the man who had that very power.

It didn’t matter then that Taber had always held her with tenderness, had always given her heat and security rather than his fists. Her fears raged inside her as hot and bleak as the heat that throbbed in her pussy.

For some reason nature had taken the choice away from her and Taber both. He was a man, fully mature, who had faced unspeakable horrors and beside him she felt like the child she feared she was. Frightened. Confused.

She squared her shoulders and breathed in roughly. Okay, so she knew her problem. That was the first step to fixing it. Right? Her emotions had terrified her months before, once she realized how deeply Taber could hurt her. That letter she thought he had sent had destroyed her, broken a part of her. A part of her fighting, trying to heal only now that she was with him again.

When your heart loves, Roni, there’s no fighting it.
She remembered the saddened words her mother had whispered to her one night after another of Reginald’s attacks.
Sometimes, protecting those you love, no matter what it takes, is more important than your own heart.

And Roni knew now that she had to find a way to protect Taber. He didn’t know how vicious, how cruel, Reginald could be. He couldn’t, or else he would have never allowed him to stay. Taber knew loyalty, a need for freedom. He could never believe her father would do anything it took to achieve his own aims, even destroy his daughter. And Roni knew her destruction would bring Reginald a wealth of satisfaction. Finally. He had a weapon against her, and soon, she knew, he would use it.

“Roni.” Taber’s voice, as dark as midnight, wrapped around her senses as he stepped into the room.

Immediately the pulsing arousal that flowed through her body intensified. She turned from the window, pulling the gun from her waistband and laying it on a nearby table as she approached him. She reached for the hem of her shirt and stripped it quickly over her head.

He was hers. Damn him. Damn Reginald and her fears.

She tossed the shirt to the floor and toed off her sneakers.

“Son of a bitch.” His hands went to his jeans.

“Take me,” she challenged him as she pushed her own jeans from her hips and stepped out of them quickly. “I dare you.”

There was a fever rising in her body. She didn’t want the bed. She didn’t want gentle mindless sex. She wanted to still the volcanic sparks of heat flaring inside her as she tore aside his control. She wanted to soothe him, enrage him, stroke and flail at him.

His eyes narrowed on her. She loved it when he did that. The jade-green color sparkled dangerously, giving him a primal, predatory appearance.

He growled, a feline rumble of warning as she smiled back at him in sensual challenge.

“I could,” he told her softly, watching as she moved around him, keeping her within sight at all times. “I could take you down and mount you in a second, Roni.”

She trembled at the dark warning. Her pussy spilled more of its slick juices along her swollen lips as her womb rippled in anticipation. She watched him breathe in deeply and knew he could smell the incredible heat filling her body. He tensed as he did, the muscles of his abdomen rippling as his cock jerked in anticipation.

“Do you know what you’re tempting, Roni?” he asked her, his voice silky as she moved behind him, stepped closer, then smoothed her hands down the bunched contours of his back.

Like rough silk. The soft pelt that covered his body tickled her palms as she stroked him. He shuddered beneath her hands.

“I thought cats liked to be stroked.” She leaned forward, catching her breath as the hard pinpoints of her nipples brushed against his back.

The rumbling growl that vibrated in his chest caused her to shiver in delight. It erotically stroked her senses, her arousal.

Her hands moved around his waist, sliding across the clenched muscles of his stomach.

“I used to dream of touching you,” she whispered as her lips smoothed over the striking tattoo on his left shoulder. The snarling Jaguar, its eyes narrowed in fury, ears laid back warningly. “I dreamed of making you moan, of hearing you whisper how desperately you wanted me.”

“I want you until I feel broken inside from it, Roni.” He stayed still, tense, as her hands moved over him.

“Can I heal you?” She laid her cheek against his shoulder, hearing the loneliness in his voice. The same dark emotion she had felt herself for so long.

He shuddered under her hands as they caressed over his own straining nipples.

“You heal me with every touch.” His arms were bunched, his body vibrating with the tight leash he had on his lust.

Roni smiled slowly. Could she break the control? Could she remake them both in the fires that would explode from it? If they survived it.

Her hands moved lower, tickling over the washboard stomach, heading unerringly for the strong stalk of his cock rising from his body.

“Roni.” The word held immeasurable warning.

“Yes, Taber?” She swallowed tightly as her hands caressed the crease of his thighs.

He was close. So very close. She felt him prepare to move and jumped back. She laughed low and deep at the primitive growl coming from his throat as he reached for her and missed. She had a feeling the missing part was deliberate when she turned back and realized he was slowly stalking her.

She moved along the room, watching him carefully, more than aware of the tension filling the room with a sexual awareness so thick it wrapped around her like gossamer threads of need.

“I’m going to take you down,” he whispered as she skirted the couch, placing its width between them. “I’m going to mount you, Roni. Then I’m going to ride you until you’re screaming beneath me.”

Her cunt beat out a demand that she drop to her knees then and there. She didn’t think so.

“Been there, done that,” she drawled. “Be original, baby.”

He snarled. Her pulse raced. Oh, that was the sexiest sound. Deep, vibrating in intensity.

He moved then, a smooth, graceful leap that had her eyes widening in shock as he came over the couch. Her second’s hesitation was her downfall. Even as she was turning to run, his arm hooked around her waist and he lifted her from the floor.

Roni fought frantically. Her body was burning, her cunt throbbing in desperation as adrenaline surged through her. She bucked in his arms as he laughed, her low scream of frustration and furious lust echoing around the room as he took her to the floor.

There were no preliminaries. There was no need for them. The slick cream of her need dampened her thighs, flowing thick and hot from her pussy. His cock surged into the syrupy thickness filling her vagina as she arched back, screaming out at the pleasure.

“Been here, baby?” He pounded inside her ruthlessly, his hands holding her hips relentlessly as his cock thrust hard and deep in the tight depths. “Done this?”

The depths he reached had her shrieking in part pain, part pleasure, her cunt gripping him, the muscles clenching spasmodically as he fucked her with a hard driving rhythm.

It wasn’t like the first time and only now did she realize the control he had exerted even then. A control he had lost this time.

She pushed back into each driving thrust, crying out for him, her pussy clenching on the thick intruder driving her insane with the need for orgasm.

“Talk to me, baby.” His hand lifted from her hip a second before he delivered a firm, sharp slap to the rounded curve of her buttock. “Tell me if we’ve been here, Roni.”

Shock singed her then. Oh hell. That felt too good. She whimpered with it, bucking against him, jerking against his hold. She fought him, gasping at the pleasure of his tight grip as he restrained her, the sharp sting of his hand on her ass as he punished her.

“Done this…” She dared him, then threw her head back in an agony of pleasure as his hand landed on her ass again.

“Done this?” His hand moved again, sliding along the curves, his fingers caressing, driving her insane as they dipped between her thighs, sliding through the juices collecting on the lips of her sex.

“Keep talking, baby,” he growled as he circled her clit. “Let’s see if this old cat can’t teach you a few new tricks.” His fingers rubbed, caressed, delicately milked her clit to the powerful thrusts driving into her pussy.

She couldn’t breathe. Roni fought for oxygen as the almost violent intensity of sensations ripped through her. Too many, too fast. She could feel her pussy tightening, her womb convulsing.

When the explosion came she felt every emotion contained in her soul tearing free. Her orgasm slammed through her as she rose from the floor convulsively, her arms reaching back for him, her scream a strangled plea for mercy.

“More.” There was no mercy.

His arm locked around her waist, lifting her, his erection sinking deeper inside her, stroking her from an angle that kept the fiery intensity of her release echoing through her body. She was being driven mad. Even her flesh became a traitor to her desperate need to fight the overwhelming orgasm.

The minute the first eased, he threw her into another. His cock was stroking inside her, fucking her with a relentless demand she couldn’t deny. She arched against him, her hands falling to the tight muscles of the arm holding her, clenching, fighting for some hold on reality as she was thrown once again into an abyss of ever deepening sensation.

She was screaming. She didn’t know what she was screaming, only knew the words were fighting to be free, to be heard. She loved. She needed… And then she felt him. From the position they were in she felt the first change. His cock tightened, jerked, then it seemed as though the flared head thickened. Another, smaller erection bloomed beneath it, locking his cock deep inside her as it caressed an ultra-sensitive bundle of nerves hidden there. Press. Stroke. In that second she was hurled into a kaleidoscope world of clashing colors, heartbeats, surging blood and an animal’s roar. And a knowledge she knew would change them both forever.

Chapter Thirty

Roni would have preferred to clear her mind, to drift within the safety of the world Taber was trying to build around her. At least, she had thought that was what she preferred, until hours later, after the demands of their bodies had been met and sanity began to return. It was then she knew it was time to face her own life.

She was only twenty-two to Taber’s thirty. But even more than the eight years difference in their ages, there was a whole world of experience as well. He had lived with fear, unspeakable cruelty and death, even before he had become a man. He had known the evil that filled the minds of the Council, the men who created him, who trained him. He had been decades older than she, even when he was a teenager.

Roni knew her own experiences in growing up didn’t even come close to the pain he had known. She was a baby in comparison. But she was also his mate. She wanted to be more. She wanted to be strong enough to stand by his side, strong enough to fight with him. She couldn’t do that if she allowed either of them to hide from the truth.

She would let him protect her to an extent, but after that, she needed to stand beside him, to ease the man who fought for supremacy over his DNA. The man who needed to love, to find at least a safe haven for his soul.

He hadn’t told her he loved her, but she would deal with that later. One step at a time, she thought. One growth at a time. She would get there eventually, but first things first.

“Cats have barbs,” Roni said lazily, her fingers playing gently through the long, silken strands of his hair.

He had been purring. It amazed her. He had tried to stop, had even laughed at himself earlier because he couldn’t, though she had seen the worry in his eyes that it would disgust her. Quite the opposite. She now knew how to tell if her lover was pleased, happy, content. Destroying that contentment for even a moment was something she hated to do. But it was something they needed to clear up.