Take Me, page 6
She blinked for a moment, and then jerked her gaze away and unfurled to jump away from the window seat. Well, then. Her brothers had turned out as pervy as she had imagined. They always were adventurous. Too much so sometimes. Their wild habits had worried her when they were younger. She’d feared it was some kind of self-destructive bent, but they seemed to have turned out well enough. It had been so hard leaving them behind, but if she hadn’t cut all ties, she knew her father would have used her communication with the twins as a way to get her back, to manipulate her.
She could see that ruthless streak in her brothers as well. In Miguel.
She’d even exhibited it a time or two herself. But that was for business. What would she do if it was personal? Would Miguel be as relentless as her father? Would he grind her under until there was nothing left of Andrea Cruz except Miguel Montoya’s mate?
It would be so easy to give in, to submit. To please. The question came down to trust. Did she trust the bond developing between them enough to take him up on his promise and let him fulfill all of her needs?
Sighing, she shifted back into human form to head for her closet. It was time to dress for dinner. She’d been vacillating back and forth on the Miguel issue so much she was starting to annoy herself. She liked making decisions and sticking to them. Damn the man for making her question herself.
Fifteen minutes later she was seated across from him at the dining room table. Diego and Ric stumbled in fighting laughter. They still stank of sex. She rolled her eyes when Diego smirked at her. “Enjoy the show, Peeping Tom?”
“Get a room.” She wrinkled her nose. “I just threw up in my mouth a little.”
“Now that is nasty.” Ric nudged her shoulder as he sank into the chair next to her.
She flapped her napkin at him to wave away the pheromones oozing from his pores. “Speaking of nasty, you could have at least bathed.”
“Knock it off, children.” Antonio helped Solana to her seat, lifting his hand when Diego opened his mouth. “I don’t even want to know.”
Ric coughed into his fist. “Just to let you know, we’re planning on heading to Santa Cruz for some surfing this weekend.”
Pulling out his own chair to sit, Antonio nodded. “Have fun. Don’t get in any trouble.”
Silence reigned for a few blissful moments while the twins began packing away more food than an entire professional football team could manage. At least they used the right fork while they did it because they’d been through the same anal-retentive training process as their older siblings.
Miguel met her gaze over the table and her breath caught. A private smile that made her chest ache softened his face. In that endless moment, every instinct inside her stilled and her mind and heart settled into a final decision. She was going to do it. Just one more time, she’d try. The breath she’d been holding slid past her lips.
Her hand shook when she reached for her wine. His gaze lingered on her mouth as she took a sip, heated as he moved down to caress her breasts. Wildfire exploded in her veins, made her pulse pound. Her nipples tightened, jutting against the thin fabric of her silk top. She suddenly regretted not wearing a bra, but she didn’t need one, so she often went without. Swallowing hard, she almost choked on the wine.
He broke the connection and glanced away, taking the opportunity to speak. “Antonio?”
The Pride leader lifted his eyebrows and leaned forward to look his Second in the eye. “Yes?”
He braced his forearm on the table and also leaned in. “It seems Africa has a new Pride leader. Cesar Benhassi has stepped forward in Casablanca.”
“Huh.” Antonio sat back in his chair, his brow furrowed in thought. “Does he have a legitimate claim to the Moroccan seat of power?”
“The last Pride leader’s great aunt’s grandson.”
Andrea knew a lot of the reason why everyone feared her being a political wildcard was because of what had happened in the African Pride. The last Pride leader had gathered all power for himself, strategically killing off anyone who challenged his authority, including his family. Because he’d died without children or siblings, it had left a power vacuum behind. When several distant relatives stepped up to take control, the Pride devolved into civil war, slaughtering most of the Panthers in Africa and sending the rest scrambling for sanctuary with other leaders. Including Pilar and her parents. With that war being so recent a reminder of how Pride politics could go horribly wrong, it had made the Panther world terrified of any kind of political anomalies. Like her.
Solana piped up, one hand rubbing her stomach absently. “Benhassi’s claim seems tenuous at best.”
Nodding, Miguel lifted his palm and shrugged. “I’ve not been able to find a record of any Panther still living who might have a better one.”
“What about those with claims just as good?” She poked at her food with her fork. “Those would cause as much chaos if they also came forward.”
“True, but Benhassi has made allies of those with similar claims and they form the nucleus of the new Pride.” His gaze flicked between Antonio and Solana. Andrea narrowed her gaze at him, trying to decide if he had an opinion on the matter or if he was just reporting facts. His face had gone blank, so it was difficult to tell.
Antonio stroked his fingers over his chin thoughtfully. “It would seem there are two options here. Wait to see who might try to form alliances with them…or be the first to do so.”
“You have his contact information?” Diego rubbed a hand over the back of his neck while Ric remained still, staring down at his plate.
Lifting a glass of water to his mouth, Miguel paused to answer. “Of course.”
A small smile pulled at Antonio’s lips. “Of course. One day you’re going to tell me how you know everything long before anyone else has the information.”
“Doubtful, sir.” Miguel sipped the water and set the cup down again.
Ric finally spoke, glancing up to meet Antonio’s gaze. “If they remain stable, it would put you in an excellent position to be first to contact him and give him some legitimacy.”
“If Africa once again falls, then we would be allied to a Pride at war with itself.” Diego’s face fell into what Andrea was coming to recognize as his serious lawyer expression. “Granting that kind of leader any legitimacy could be dangerous for us and for the balance of power in all the Prides.”
Antonio crossed his arms over his chest, nodding. “All good points. What do all of you think? Should we be progressive or conservative in our approach to this new development?”
Their father would never have asked. When their mother was alive, he would have consulted her—and probably done what she suggested—but that was all. After her death, he made decisions alone and expected everyone to fall into step behind his leadership.
Ric tapped his finger against the table. “If he’s to have any hope of success, he’ll need a show of support from other Pride leaders.”
“I agree.” Diego nodded.
Solana grinned. “Me, too.”
Miguel just nodded his approval and said nothing more.
Turning to look at Andrea, Antonio arched an eyebrow. “Andrea?”
She lifted her hands in mock surrender. “I’ve only been back in the Pride for a week, brother. My opinion can hardly help.”
“I’d like to hear it anyway.”
“I believe that if something doesn’t work once, it’s unfair not to give it one more try. Everyone deserves that second chance.” She watched Miguel still as he took in the dual meaning of what she said. She forced her gaze to leave her mate and focused on her elder brother. “Call him.”
His chin dipped in a decisive nod. “Give the number to my assistant so she can set up a conference call for nightfall tomorrow in Morocco.”
“Yes, sir.” Miguel picked up his fork and knife to resume his meal and everyone else followed suit, but he glanced up to look at Andrea, wicked promise in his gaze. A shiver rippled over her flesh and she bit her lip. A kaleidoscope of carnal memories spun through her mind. The limo, her bedroom, his hands on her skin, his taste in her mouth. She squeezed her thighs together, but it only increased the ache there.
“It should be interesting to see what develops.” Ric’s voice jolted Andrea out of her sensual stupor. “I wonder what our Pride members who used to belong to the African Pride will think.”
Pilar’s face flashed before Andrea’s eyes, and she turned to Antonio. “A phone call is one thing, but before anything becomes more official, make sure you speak to those former African Pride members. Reassure them that their place here is secure, whether or not you ally with Benhassi. This den is their home.”
“I will.” One dark eyebrow arched. “And I’ll start with Ms. Medina.”
While there were others in the Pride who were also born in Africa, she didn’t bother to deny that her best friend had been foremost in her mind. “Thank you.”
She glanced up and found Miguel watching her again, his gaze warm, a smile tilting his lips. His expression made her chest tighten, and she wished he was close enough to touch. As if he could read her mind, he lifted one hand and slid the pad of his thumb across his lower lip. The warmth burned into something hotter, fiercer, ratcheting up her anticipation of the night to come.
“Aren’t you enjoying your meal, Andrea? Should I send for something else?” Solana’s question pulled Andrea’s attention away from her mate. She managed a smile for her sister-in-law and began eating, but she didn’t taste a thing. It could have been cardboard for all she knew, and the rest of dinner passed in a blur.
When everyone stood to leave, she rose half a beat behind. God, she was out of it. Shaking herself, she waved off an offer of after-dinner drinks and pleaded work obligations. She doubted she fooled anyone when she left the dining room with Miguel on her heels. Her legs shook with each step up the staircase and she feared they might collapse under her at any moment. When she reached the top, Miguel’s hand settled at the small of her back and directed her toward the Second’s suite.
A small shiver went up her spine as they approached the door. This was the suite her nightmare had taken place in. But she needed to confront this—if she wanted to explore this part of her sexuality, then this was the man to do it with, and this was the place to do it in.
He held open the door for her and she pulled in a steadying breath before she stepped over the threshold. The suite was as changed as the Second’s office had been, with modern furniture and South American art pieces. And it smelled of Miguel, hot and masculine. Her shoulders relaxed a bit while the muscles in her belly tensed and her pussy dampened, readying her for sex. He led her through the sitting room into the bedroom.
Sweet scents filled her nose, flowers and sugar. It drew her gaze to the bedside table where a tray of assorted fruit with slender serving forks sat on ice. A bouquet of long-stemmed roses stood in a vase beside it. She blinked. “What’s all this?”
“Dessert.” The way his gaze moved over her body told her what he intended to have for dessert. And it wasn’t fruit and whipped cream.
“When did you have time to do this?” She swallowed and watched his nimble fingers flick open the buttons on his dress shirt. The heavy muscles of his chest came into view, tanned skin and a light trail of hair disappeared beneath the waist of his trousers. Fingers trembling, she followed his lead and undressed. Within a few moments they were both naked. The jut of his hard cock curved upward toward the muscles in his flat stomach. God, he was gorgeous.
He just smiled and winked at her. “I made time. Other than that, it’s my secret.”
Trepidation fluttered in her belly, but she squelched it. Just do it, Andrea. She closed her eyes and turned away. It wasn’t as if she was going to live forever. She’d only have a few years more than the average human; her Panther magic ensured her amazing good health, not immortality. She couldn’t live her life always afraid, always wondering. Someday the curiosity would get the better of her, so it was best to get it over with and have her eyes open for what she was getting into. Good or bad, she was ready.
What would Miguel do now that he had her permission? She’d unleashed the beast. He wanted it this way. Her body demanded it, so this was how it was going to be. Resignation slid through her, and she braced herself for whatever came next. Now that she’d agreed to this, she wasn’t so sure. And there was no way she could back out. Hot and cold chills ran over her skin, and the slow burn of anticipation pushed through the reservations and fear.
“Andrea?” His fingers brushed up her spine to curl lightly around the back of her neck.
He could use what happened here to force her to bend to his will. To break her the way so many men had tried. From lovers to her father. Only Miguel might actually be able to accomplish it. Self-disgust rolled through her that she would let him hurt her, that she would put herself in any man’s hands this way again. Hadn’t she learned how wrong this was the first time? Tears welled up in her eyes and she pressed her trembling lips together. She wanted him so much it made her heart ache. “I am so fucking weak.”
“No.” His lips feathered against her temple, and the heat of his skin burned into her back. “It takes as much strength to follow as it does to lead. Perhaps more.”
A sound that was half laugh, half sob escaped her. “Right. Sure.”
The palm of his hand slid down her spine, turning her to face him. Her heart pounded in her ears, her breath sounding harsh. Sheer, terrifying lust wound through her and she tensed.
Here it came.
What if he pushed too hard? What if he didn’t stop?
His fingertips brushed down her arm, and a tremor ran through her at the automatic reaction her body always had to him. He wrapped his fingers around her elbow and drew her into his embrace. She resisted for a half-second before she collapsed against his chest.
A soft purr soughed from his throat as he slid his hand up and down her back. It relaxed her and she shuddered, wrapping her arms around him. He brushed his fingers through her short hair, pushing it away from her face. “Trust me. I would never betray you.”
“Don’t hurt me.” She pulled back a little to look him in the eyes.
Understanding shone on his face, a sympathy that softened his normally implacable expression. Some part of her knew that he did understand what she meant, that the faith she put in him was far more important than the physical act their bodies would perform.
“I won’t. You can trust me, but if you’re not ready, I don’t want to force it.” His thumb smoothed over her cheek. “You don’t have to do this, Andrea.”
“Yes, I do. I need to know.” She let the desire show in her gaze, the Panther within her would shimmer the edges of her irises to pure gold. “I’m ready.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I trust you for this.” If there was more emphasis on the last two words than she intended, she hoped he didn’t notice.
He searched her face, looking for what, she didn’t know, but he seemed satisfied with what he found because he nodded. “The rules of the game are simple, if you want me to stop, say red light. If you need me to slow down, say yellow light. If I check in with you and you’re fine—”
“Green light. I think I’ve got it.” She smiled, but it fell away quickly. “I have a couple of rules of my own.”
Arching a brow, he continued to run his hands over her arms and back. “Oh?”
She licked her lips and his gaze followed the movement. She swallowed and forced herself to continue. “First, no humiliation. When he…” She let out a shaky breath. “He said awful things while he hurt me, about me and my body, and called me ugly names. I don’t want that.” Miguel nodded a quick agreement, and she sucked in a lungful of air. He’d probably like her other condition much less. “Second, this stays in the bedroom. Nothing changes outside of what we do in bed. You don’t own me. You don’t tell me what to do.”
“Fine. Turn around.” His tone was an unmistakable order and she smirked at him, but obeyed. She couldn’t help the tension that ran through her body. Her gaze hit the carpet, waiting…waiting…
Would he bend her over and spank her? Her sex contracted at the mere thought. Wetness slicked the lips of her pussy. Heat wound through her, made her heart pound and her breathing speed until she panted. Her nipples beaded so tightly they ached. Her body was more than ready for whatever he had in mind.
Something soft and cool dropped over her eyes. “Wha—”
“Shh.” His breath fluttered the hair at the nape of her neck and he kissed her there. The blindfold tightened around the back of her head, blocking out all light.
She shuddered, sucking a deep breath through her nose. All her other senses seemed to heighten. The scent of Miguel overwhelmed her, the feel of her hair curling under her jaw to tickle her throat, and an excitement that twisted tighter and tighter inside her. What was happening to her?
The smell of strawberries intensified until the slight rasp of one stroked across her bottom lip. Her mouth opened and she bit into the fleshy pulp. The taste of it burst over her tongue and she moaned. The experience was so sensual it almost became sexual. She smiled. Anything with Miguel could be sexual.
“Sometimes, it’s not about the pain.” The rough satin of his voice stroked over her skin like a caress. “The whole experience should be enjoyed.”
It was about the sensation. Every imaginable sensation. Pleasure, pain, and everything in between. Her muscles loosened as her body relaxed to wait for what he did next, turning herself over to the experience. There was excitement, but also a strange calm. The eye of the storm.
“Miguel, I—”
“Shh.” A long length of silky fabric wrapped around her wrists. It seemed wider at one end than it was at the other. A necktie? He wound it around and around until she was bound from wrist to elbow, her arms locking into straight lines behind her back. It arched her chest forward, made her hyperaware of her body and the way breathing lifted her breasts.
She hadn’t been bound since that night long ago. It startled her, and how much she liked it scared her. She shuddered as her emotions tripped and tangled over each other. “Yellow light.”
