Bastien considered the intriguing tableau. Regardless of species, none of the wild creatures were this friendly to anyone outside the pack. Of course, Kirby had such neat little claws . . . yeah, they could’ve been of a lynx.
Settling with his back against a tree, legs out in front of him, he watched her pet the utterly lazy, spoilt creature now sprawled in her lap. That lynx was going to follow her around every time she was in the area, he thought with an affectionate grin for his wild counterpart. Bastien would likely find it on the branches outside their aerie, waiting for her.
Well done, cat, he thought a little ruefully, his own leopard yet deprived of her touch.
KIRBY and Bastien finally reached their destination a half hour from that meeting, the lynx having left them ten minutes earlier with an affectionate brush of his body against Kirby’s legs. Now, Kirby watched Bastien climb up to the aerie hidden in the arms of a massive tree, one so big, she couldn’t take it all in.
This world intoxicated her with its magnificence, the way Bastien moved in it, his muscles fluid, a primal song. He’d climbed the tree using his claws, yet had left only faint marks on the trunk that would soon close over, not a single gouge to be seen. Just one more sign that he wasn’t an intruder here, but an accepted part of this incredible ecosystem, one who respected the land that nurtured him.
“Rope ladder coming down!” he called out after disappearing behind the leaves with her duffel.
“Thank—” She screamed as Bastien jumped from his high perch . . . to land with the pouncing grace of the cat he was, his powerful body ending up in a crouch.
“Sorry if I scared you.” A sheepish look. “I forget it looks dangerous.”
“No.” Kirby waved the hand she’d thrown out in a futile attempt to stop him. “I’m used to changelings jumping out of trees,” she said through her still-thumping heart. “Most of them are five years old, and the trees are only a hundred times shorter than this one, but same principle.” In truth, he’d been magnificent, a fact she could appreciate now that she wasn’t swamped in terror.
His smile creased his cheeks, his green eyes backlit with an untamed glow. “A smartass. I like it.” Tugging at her so she fell against his chest, he ran his hands boldly down to her butt, squeezed. “I like this ass even better. Makes me want to bite.”
Kirby’s entire body went molten, but she wasn’t about to let him get away with teasing her so outrageously without repercussions. Hauling him close with one hand on his nape, the other in his hair, she claimed a hot, tangled kiss from this man who made her forget she wasn’t experienced, her actions driven by naked instinct. A second later, she was backed up against the nearest tree trunk, his hands petting and molding her flesh as their mouths engaged in erotic battle.
Moaning, she returned kiss for kiss, touch for touch, delectably conscious of the hard push of his arousal against her abdomen. He was so big, so strong, his touch a drug to her senses. Gasping a breath between kisses, she returned to their private war, hooking her legs around his waist when he hitched her up.
A snarl, his mouth tearing away from her own, though there was no danger that she could see, no reason to stop. The lightning heat of his glare had her narrowing her eyes, her fingertips prickling. “What?”
“What? What?” He closed one clawed hand very carefully around her throat. “I’m trying to be a good guy by not seducing you when you’ve had one hell of a shock, and what do you do but kiss me all sexy and aroused and wet.” Growled-out words. “How the hell am I supposed to keep from devouring you?”
Kirby wanted to pounce on him for that blunt declaration. “I don’t feel vulnerable or taken advantage of,” she assured him, petting his beautiful chest through his T-shirt.
His snarl rumbled against her breasts.
“In fact,” she murmured, looking at him through half-lowered lashes, “why don’t I take advantage of you?” The idea of having his naked body as her personal playground made her breath catch—surely she’d figure things out as she went along, especially since she had a partner who made no bones about wanting her.
“I’ll be gentle.” She didn’t know where this sexual confidence was coming from, but it felt so, so good to play with Bastien. “Promise.” Kissing his throat, she ran her hands over his shoulders.
Mine. It was a feral thought, should’ve scared her. It didn’t. No, it made her want to purr as Bastien had begun to do.
Having already learned it was his weak spot, she continued to kiss his throat, the taste of him her own personal aphrodisiac.
This is how he should react to me, said the awakening wildness within her, possessive and sensual and with no time for the rules of civilized behavior. This is how it should be between us.
“Grr.” Pulling her mouth from his throat, Bastien snapped his teeth at her, making her jump . . . before her nipples went achingly tight, her body honey slick in welcome.