The Psy-Changeling Collection (69 page)

“Vaughn,” she said, “it’s okay. I know you won’t hurt me. It’s my conditioning and the impact it might have that we have to worry about.”

“I could rip you to pieces if the cat takes over. I won’t think I’m hurting you, but I will be.” His voice held the thickness of a growl—his beast might have saved his life as a child, but the payment it demanded was being a greater part of his consciousness. “I want you too much, so much that I might damage you without meaning to.”

Faith didn’t move any closer. Instead, she stood watching him, studying him with those night-sky eyes that seemed to shimmer in the dim light of this cavern he called home, which seemed to soothe her. It had surprised him when he’d picked up the signs of relaxation, but now he was glad. At least she could feel safe in this place.
His
place. He’d never steal that feeling from her by using it as a trap to maul her.

“The longer we wait,” she said, her voice that of the most practical Psy, but her eyes holding the first flicker of lightning, “the worse it’s going to get. It’s become clear to me that you need touch and I haven’t been giving it to you.”

He knew that. “If I’m not tied down, I can’t trust myself.” It was an offhand comment that hid his very real frustration. To be close enough to touch, but be barred from doing so, caused excruciating pain.

“Then let’s tie you down.”

Cat and man both went absolutely motionless. “What?” Her cheeks held the faintest hints of pink. “Maybe it would help me, too, if I knew I could walk away at any time. The backlash from the conditioning might not be as bad.”

“Tie me down?” he asked again.

“It was only a suggestion. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

He scowled. “I’m not offended. But I don’t want to be powerless to defend you if something happens.”

“Your reflexes are much faster than those of any other creature I’ve ever seen. I’ll put a knife or knives within reach. You could grab them and cut the bindings free if necessary.”

“I tell you I’m dangerous and you want to put knives near me?”

“Vaughn, you’re scared you’ll hurt me because you want me so much.” Psy logic combined with enticing hints of feminine temper. “Unless you’ve been hiding something, using knives on me is hardly likely to arouse you.”

She was right. He wasn’t afraid of harming her on purpose, but doing so in the midst of claiming her, tasting her, sliding into the tight sheath of her body.

“Stop that,” she whispered, “if you’re not going to . . . play.”

He caught the use of the changeling word, caught the rich musk of female desire. And remembered that he wouldn’t be helpless to seduce her even if he was tied down. Moving to the side of the room, he pulled out an old shirt from a trunk and used his claws to slice the material into strips. “I’m in your hands, Red.” Claws retracted, he passed her the strips.

She blushed, eyes tracking him as he placed several weapons in easily reachable positions around the bed. “Tie my legs down, too,” he ordered, blindingly aware of the ways he could harm her with the strong muscles that made him one of the predators.

Eyes wide, she nodded. “Vaughn?”

“Yeah?”

“If I can’t finish this, will it hurt you?”

“Hell, yeah. But my balls turning blue won’t kill me. So don’t worry about it. When you can’t handle it, get up and get the hell out. If I look like I’ve gone cat, lock the door behind you and take the car. Hyperspeed.” He showed her the keys. “Car’s in the left cavern as you enter. Do you remember the way out? You have to follow it without deviation or you’ll set off the defenses.”

Oddly, there was no fear in her scent. “My memory’s highly trained. Don’t worry about me being caught in a trap.”

He had a sudden thought. “Did you see this in a vision?”

“N-no!” Her Psy facade cracked. “I’ve never seen anything this pleasurable.” Night-sky eyes went to his hands as he pulled off his jeans and threw them aside. Her intense focus made his already painful erection pound in echo with his heartbeat.

“How do you know it’ll be pleasurable?” He got on the bed and lay down.

Breath a whisper, she came closer and tied one wrist to the headboard. The cat growled but didn’t try to make him wrench free.

“Because just looking at you gives me the most extreme pleasure I’ve ever felt.”

“Christ, baby, tie me up before you start talking like that.” He wasn’t joking. He knew his beast, knew its limits, knew its demands.

She went to the other side of the bed to tie up his free hand before coming to his feet. The jaguar didn’t think this was okay anymore—claws pricked at his inner skin and a roar pushed at his throat. Forcing the beast to back down, he spread his legs to help her. But he knew there would come a point when he’d lose the battle with the cat. “The doors are closed,” he told her, voice very low. “If you have to run, don’t give me any warning and don’t stop to get dressed. Just go!”

Faith stood at the end of the bed and met his eyes. “Why do I trust you more than you trust yourself?”

“You don’t know the beast. Do what I tell you.”

“Vaughn, I can fight back.”

“Yeah, but can you kill? Because as far as I know, that’s the only way you have to incapacitate me.”

“You won’t hurt me. But”—she held up her hand when he would’ve spoken—“I promise I’ll do everything you’ve asked if you go cat on me. Promise.”

He nodded, satisfied that she’d keep her word. Then he watched her as a cat watches prey. Except this time, he couldn’t pounce. He wondered what she’d do, whether she’d torment him. The thought wasn’t unpleasant—a little tormenting in bed could be very interesting. The one thing he didn’t allow himself to think was that she’d complete the act and accept him into her body.

She crawled onto the bed to sit on her knees beside him. “May I touch you?” Such a polite question, but there was an inferno in her eyes. A Psy not sure she could fully break conditioning. And yet gutsy enough to try. Was it any wonder she was his mate?

“Anywhere.” He wished he could kiss her. Unable to gratify the wish, he indulged himself with thoughts of how the softness of her lips would feel against his. The tart sweetness of her mouth was a remembered sensation that tightened his already impossibly taut body.

Lightning-shot eyes met his. “I like your kiss, too.”

He loved being able to arouse her with his most erotic thoughts. “Then come here.”

“Vaughn, should I drop out of the Net before—What if my shields collapse?”

“You can drop out the second your shields fail. I’ll catch you.” He’d already caught her, but she wasn’t ready to accept the depth of their connection.

“Then I’ll wait until it becomes unavoidable,” she whispered, “I have things to do.”

He smiled, using sex to banish the taint of sadness. “Yes, you do. Kiss me.”

“I think that’s an excellent idea.” She braced her hands palms down beside his head and placed her mouth over his. It was an utterly feminine kiss, gentle and exploratory, not ravaging but coaxing. To his shock, Vaughn found he enjoyed being coaxed. The cat settled, too, pleased. It liked being petted and this was the most intimate kind of petting.

When her tongue whispered across his lips, he opened his mouth and allowed her to taste him as he tasted her. He could feel her knee against his side, but she remained out of reach, her breasts not pressing against his chest where he wanted them. He imagined her kissing him naked, her body pasted along his, a sizzlingly intimate meeting of mouths that might short-circuit all of her nerves.

Gasping into the kiss, she broke it. Her eyes were filled with white lightning, her lips moist from his kiss, her skin flushed with a soft glow that signaled arousal. He took pleasure in the markers though he didn’t need them—the scent of her acted like a drug to his senses. Breathing deep, he fed the hunger, stoked the fire, and waited.

CHAPTER 21

Faith’s whole body
felt tight, as if her skin had been stretched too thin and was close to bursting. She wanted to rub herself up against the beauty of the male in front of her. He was a stunningly sensual creature, an invitation to every one of her starved senses. Her conditioning warned that too much sensation after a lifetime of numbness could cause the most brutal kind of mental cascade, but she wasn’t listening.

Licking her tongue over her lips, she put one hand flat on his chest. A shudder shook his powerful frame. Startled, she looked up to find his eyes closed. He was making no effort to hide his pleasure in her caresses and his unflinching surrender gave her the confidence she’d lacked to this point.

Removing her hand, she ignored the low growl that came from his throat and put her hands to the bottom of her T-shirt. The growl cut off. His intense focus was a physical touch as she lifted the soft material over her head and threw it to the floor. Her bra might’ve been practical white cotton, but the look in Vaughn’s eyes made her feel as if she were encased in something designed to bring a male the most exquisite pleasure.

He jerked at the bindings without warning. “I want a taste. Come here.”

Wondering at his meaning, she leaned over, her lips brushing his as they spoke. It was deliberate on her part—she liked kisses with Vaughn. “What do you want to taste?”

He caught her lower lip between his teeth in a playful bite and she shivered. “Your pretty breasts.”

“I’m still wearing my bra.”

“Take it off.” It was a demand.

Faith’s reaction to his attempt to exert dominance in bed surprised her. There was no fear and more than a frisson of sexual pleasure, a dramatic contrast to her negative response to his attempts to dominate her in other situations.

It was an interesting dichotomy and if she’d been thinking with the cerebral discipline of her race, she might’ve explored it further. But the fact was, she was thinking with her body. And she was coping. More than coping. She was
enjoying
. Much more of her conditioning had failed than she’d initially estimated. She didn’t care.

Sitting back up, she reached behind her to unhook the bra and slide it down her arms and off her fingertips. Knowing that Vaughn couldn’t touch her, couldn’t push her, gave her courage, but it also increased the heat. There was something highly erotic about what they were doing and Faith knew it had to do with trust and intimate secrets. Vaughn would never let anyone else tie him down as she’d done.

He growled again and this time she could hear the difference. The deep rumble wasn’t a threat but a demand. Flicking aside the discarded bra, she straddled him, blindingly aware of the pulsing length of his erection. If she slid back a bare few inches, she’d be able to rub over him with the hot, swollen flesh between her legs.

Mercy.

The temptation was intense but she remained rational enough to know she couldn’t overload her senses that quickly. She hadn’t reached her limit. It was simply a question of speed.

Letting her hair cascade around them, she leaned down, but kept her breasts out of reach of his mouth. She had no idea why she was teasing him like this, hadn’t even known she had the ability to tease, yet she was certain it was bringing him pleasure. Her jaguar might demand, but not having his demands fulfilled at once didn’t anger him. It only heightened the sensations.

Not really caring how she knew that, she used her finger to trace his mouth and when he threatened to bite, she acquiesced to him, taking that wandering finger into his mouth. He sucked so hard she thought she could feel it in her womb.

The sensation was rich, heady, and had an unexpected effect. “My breasts hurt.” Such a private complaint.

He allowed her to withdraw her finger. “Come here.”

More than willing to oblige him this time, she watched as his mouth closed over her nipple. Her mind blanked at the instant of contact and then restarted in a shock wave of desire. She clawed the sheets beside his shoulders but didn’t move away. Because she was desperate for more, her addiction to Vaughn was growing with alarming speed.

A scream locked in her throat as he switched his attention to her neglected nipple. When he tugged with careful teeth, she bent even closer, her hair a dark red curtain that focused the intimacy to an excruciating pitch. Silver shot through her mind. Sanity broke piece by piece. She didn’t care.

Shifting focus, Vaughn let go of her nipple to scrape his teeth along the vulnerable underside of her breast. Her heart seemed to stop beating.

Giving an incoherent cry, she jerked down his body in a ragged movement. She might’ve kept going had Vaughn’s roar not split the soft darkness into two. Her entire body froze. That was when she realized her jean-clad form was rubbing over the head of his erection. Vaughn jerked at the restraints, the veins on his arms and shoulders pumped with blood. And she became conscious of the fact that he could break the bindings with his strength alone.

But there was no danger, not yet. Heart still not back in the right rhythm, she slid farther down, freeing the hot, hard length of his arousal. He didn’t care for that. “Get back.” It was a snapped command in a voice coated with the thick animal sexuality of the changeling he was.

Shaking her head, she used her hand to claim him as she’d done at the cottage. His body bucked upward, powerful muscle and gleaming flesh.

“You’re so hot,” she whispered, breath coming in pants, “so silky.” She loved touching him.

He growled and it was very close to the edge. “Enough.”

“No.” She wasn’t going to let go until she was finished—if the conditioned pain crippled her, this chance might never come again. And there were lots of things she wanted to do to this magnificent male at her mercy.

“It’ll feel better if you take off the jeans.”

She blinked, surprised to see that she’d changed position so she could grind the ache between her legs against one muscular thigh. Her hand tightened on him.

His breath hissed out. “Off,” he ordered. “Take those damn jeans off!”

“But to do that I’d have to stop,” she muttered.

Vaughn’s eyes went even more cat, if that was possible. “Imagine how good it’ll feel.”