Predator (3 page)

Good?
She knew her eyes were widening and her muscles had tensed, but he ignored those things. After several seconds, he took his hand off the gag and rolled her onto her stomach. Being unable to see him brought her dangerously close to panic, but before the battle could consume her, he untied her leg and stretched it out beside the free one. That done, he turned her onto her back again. Not having her leg trapped under her felt wonderful! Next to that, her weight resting on her hands was nothing. Thank goodness for loose soil and layers of decayed pine needles.

“I’ve been alone a long time,” he told her in a tone that mirrored the wind. “The days and nights have bled together, until I can’t remember how many there have been.”

His expression became vulnerable, making her think of a lost child. Whatever had taken hold of him was overwhelming him, not that she could or should want to do anything about it. But it was just the two of them in the middle of nowhere, and he’d become her world. Against all reason, she found herself fighting tears.

“Don’t,” he said and swiped at a tear. “You’re fulfilling your destiny.”

If he said that one more time, she’d scream—at least she would if she was capable of screaming. Blinking back her tears, she concentrated on preparing herself for his every touch and movement, his every mood. Something was changing about his expression, a look in his eyes she’d never seen on a human being. He continued to study her with an awful intensity, and yet it was more than that. Animal-like? Was that what she was seeing, a sloughing off of human qualities while primal instinct came to the surface?

Knowing the change went deeper than his expression, she tried to sink into the ground. At the same time, the primitive promise emanating from him intrigued her. How many times while hiking had she imagined walking into the wilderness and never turning around? Leaving civilization in all its complexity behind. Had she been taken to that point of no return?

His eyes now bright with an inner light, he ran a finger across her forehead and over her jawbone. She shuddered, then relaxed. Again and again, he traced the contours of her face until she half believed it now belonged to him. Her body hummed and waited, both living in the moment and eager for the touch to become more intimate, more of an invasion.

She’d worn a front-button flannel shirt so she could roll up the sleeves and undo the top buttons as the day grew warmer. She’d already exposed her elbows and freed two buttons and had been debating letting more air reach her chest when she’d met
him
. Now she didn’t know whether to be glad or disappointed that she was modestly dressed—not that she had any control over whatever he decided to do.

At the moment, he was staring at the nearby hill, making her wonder if he’d seen whatever it was she thought she had. But after briefly studying whatever had caught his attention, he nodded and turned back to her. Once again, she was struck by the totality of his interest in her; it was as if nothing else existed.

Reaching out, he took hold of her shirt, freeing one, two and finally all the buttons. Releasing the bottom ones meant he’d had to pull her shirttail out of her jeans. Instead of exposing her bra, though, he shifted position slightly and lightly rested his hands on her shoulders. The heels of his hands pressed against her collarbone.

Say something. Tell me what you’re thinking. Anything!

Instead of responding to her silent plea, he leaned over, his mouth closing in on her neck. Pulse quickening, she lifted her head in a futile attempt to stop him—maybe. He waited her out until she could no longer hold her head up and then ran his lips over the side of her neck.

Alarmed, she struggled to slide out from under him, but he had no trouble holding her in place. “Don’t fight!”

“Hmm. Hmm!” she muffled behind her gag.

“This isn’t about pain. And it isn’t about rape.”

No rape? You promise?

The second time he touched her it was with his teeth, a light raking over her flesh that had her whimpering. And when he nibbled and licked, her whimper became a primitive cry. Something knotted in her belly to distract her from the sensual touch. She wasn’t terrified of him. She should be, but she wasn’t. He’d taken both of them far from convention and everything she’d taken for granted all her life, and she couldn’t do anything about it—except experience.

Closing his hand around her jaw, he turned her head one direction and then the other, making her wonder what he was looking for and what he was thinking. She could kick, or at least try to kick him, but not only wasn’t she sure her boots would incapacitate him, she didn’t want to fight.

She needed to experience.

“You smell of the forest,” he said with his face inches from hers. “That’s how I know you’re the one I’ve been waiting and looking for, because our scents are the same.”

He was right! Even with everything she had to deal with, she plainly caught the aroma of warm pine needles and rich earth clinging to him.

“I want you.” His gaze darkened. “You deserve to know how much I do, but I’m not going to take you against your will.”

What do you call what you’ve already done?

“That’s not how it needs to be between us. We must mate as equals.”

Not be forced or have sex, or make love, or even fuck, but
mate?
She had no doubt that his word choice had been deliberate. Desperate for further clarification, she stared unblinking at him, but if he read the silent plea for an explanation, he gave no indication. Releasing her jaw, he ran his fingers down her throat and from there to her collarbone. Next, he slid his hand under her shirt and began exploring what he couldn’t see.

Her breath kept catching, and she had to remind herself that this was truly happening and not part of some erotic dream. If she was in control of things, she’d program her fantasy man to treat her body like something rare and precious, something to be cherished and explored—mostly explored.

Not controlled or manipulated, as was happening.

A shiver running from the base of her throat and over both breasts brought her back to the moment. Watching her, he pushed her shirt off her shoulders. Having her hands behind her had arched her upper body so her breasts were thrust toward him. When he dipped his head toward her again and ran his tongue over the swell of her breasts not covered by her bra, she moaned and hissed into her gag. Sweat bloomed on her throat and under her arms. Her breathing quickened, becoming a near pant.

He continued licking, occasionally running his teeth over her flesh, sometimes pressing his mouth against her until, despite her attempt to remain still, she started rocking from side to side. If he asked, she couldn’t say what she was trying to accomplish, maybe nothing more than seeking an outlet for the energy building inside.

That’s what it was, she decided when, finally, he granted her a break from his sensual assault. He was filling her with anticipation, turning her on, but promising nothing in the way of relief.

“Like silk.” His mouth was so close to her breasts that his breath puffed over her flesh. “Your skin is like silk.”

Her breathing snagged, then stopped. She waited, existing nowhere else, for his next move, his next words.

“I knew I’d have to capture you. Otherwise, you’d run. I could imprint you with Cougar’s wisdom. I thought—during those days and nights when I waited for you to arrive—I kept thinking about what I’d have to do to accomplish my goal. I dreamed of having you under my control and being able to touch you however I wanted. Those dreams drove me crazy.”

Leaning back, he settled his hands on his knees again. He was watching her, and yet he wasn’t, his attention maybe someplace deep inside himself. She shouldn’t care what this man who’d taken control of her was trying to tap into, shouldn’t want anything from him except her freedom. And yet…

With a quick shake of his head, he brought himself back to the here and now. Alerted by his now clear gaze, she readied herself for whatever he intended to do next, but he was in no hurry to touch her or break down any more of her barriers and defenses. Instead, he took in her entire body, not with a lustful leer that would make her skin crawl, or the possessive look she’d seen on cats just before they pounced on whatever hapless creature they’d been stalking. He was simply taking his measure of her, maybe recording her form so he’d never forget it, maybe doing what he needed to assure himself that she indeed was under his control.

Under his control. What a frightening, heady, and exciting thought!

Damn it! What was she, some cow being led to slaughter?

The thought spluttered and died when he pushed her shirt away from her ribs and waist. Once more everything tunneled down until there was only the two of them and what he intended to do to her. His eyes danced with what might simply be sexual excitement and yet seemed to be more, as if he was nearing the finish line after a long race.

She knew he was going to touch her before he did, sank into something deep and dark and warm, an existence she’d never experienced or known was possible. She was no longer a separate person with rights and responsibilities, because he’d taken those things from her.

He was in charge, taking over. His hot, magical fingers danced over her flesh, both touching where he’d touched before and exploring new territory. Instead of watching what he was doing, he kept his gaze locked on hers.

Caught in his web, she couldn’t think how she might break free of his intensity. For long seconds, the dark message in those incredible eyes distanced her from her body’s response to a thumb running over her ribs, nails tracking light lines along her belly.

Then, maybe because he knew how much power his eyes carried, he closed them. When he did, a wave of fear caused her to tense. Why was he denying her a connection she needed as much as she did air? Desperate to bring him back to her, she rocked from side to side and then tried to sit up. Opening his eyes, he easily pushed her down again, holding her in place by resting his forearms on her chest until she stopped struggling. Panting a bit, she waited and watched.

“You’re starting to want me,” he said. “You don’t want to feel like that, I know. It’s just the beginning. No end in sight, no release or relief. Just anticipation. And me.”

What are you saying? Oh God, what are you going to do to me?

At length, he let up on the pressure. His fingers became like light kisses on her collarbone and the base of her throat. When he moved from there to her midsection, she sucked in a deep breath and held it, no longer just waiting, but half crazed with wanting him to go further. How prophetic his words were becoming! Her breasts more than filled her bra, and her jeans were tight against her belly and crotch.

So gentle. And yet possessive. Painting her with energy. Promising more.

Her hands were useless behind her, the circulation compromised because of her body’s weight, but even when her fingers tingled, she couldn’t think how she might change that. Everything had been reduced down to one thing—sexual energy. She needed more, needed everything he had to offer!

Damn you for doing this to me!

Perhaps he knew how much her breasts ached because he cradled them in his strong hands and pushed them up and in. Her nipples throbbed, the hardened tips rasping against soft cotton. “Please,” she sobbed into the gag. “Please.”

He blinked several times, a slow unveiling of his emotions. He was turned on, she had no doubt of that, but where she was all raw, unwanted anticipation, he seemed to be in control of what he was feeling and doing. And he wanted everything to be about her, aimed at her.

Damn you
.

Kneading, massaging, sometimes stroking the naked swell of her breasts, but mostly heating and igniting them despite the bra’s barrier. And then, when she was certain she couldn’t take it anymore, he unclasped the front closure on the sports bra. Her breasts spilled out, exposed and vulnerable. When he didn’t claim them, she blinked away the fog that had settled around her so she could focus on him.

“You want this,” he said, his hands inches above her. “Tell me the truth. You want this, don’t you?”

Incapable of lying, she nodded. And as she did, something primal lifted her buttocks off the ground, and she spread her legs.

“Not yet, not until I’ve taken you down.”

Fury again claimed her, and she tried to bite him, would have sunk her teeth into his forearm if not for the gag. Was that why he’d placed it on her, not to keep her silent, but because he’d understood how savage she’d become?

“These”—nails as light as butterfly wings stroked her newly freed breasts—“belong to me now. What you feel is because I’ve decided you deserve it, but if you do something to displease me, I’ll take away your pleasure. For now.”

How could she do anything? Confused, she willed herself to remain still and compliant.

“At times you’ll hate me for what I’m doing, but I have no choice. Neither of us does.” That said, he unfastened her jeans and tugged down the zipper.

All but on fire with anticipation, she nevertheless acknowledged that he was again talking about something, or maybe someone, with power over both of them. A prickle of awareness at the back of her neck caused her to once more take in what she could see of her surroundings.

The trees continued to dominate, the sky all but hidden by the lighter green growing tops. Deep shade made it difficult to make out details near the ground. This time her attention was drawn, not to the hill, but to a large bush with several evergreens standing guardian just behind it. In front of the bush stood—

No, couldn’t be!

But it was. A cougar. Golden coat contrasting with the darker surroundings, heavy head held high as if the predator was sniffing the air. Small ears twitched and large potent paws splayed out on the ground. The thick, long tail slowly lashed. And the eyes—yellow and alive and intense, staring at her.

The magnificent creature was larger than any of the half dozen or so cougars she’d seen in her life, leading her to conclude it was a male in its prime. Its mouth was parted, revealing deadly white teeth. If they’d been closer to civilization, she’d be concerned that he felt pressured by humans, which could turn him into a killer of those humans. But remote as this area was, she’d be surprised if he’d ever seen anything on two legs before.