Purr For Me

Chapter One

Panteara arched her shoulders back and purred as she ran her hands down along the sleek, graceful lines of her feline enhanced body, reveling in the soft fur covering and the lean muscles defined beneath it. She loved being in this form. This was just one type of beast-shifting—that of half human and half panther. The females of their kind could only achieve this particular shift change on their day of birth—in which case for Panteara was Halloween—or after they mate. For twenty-four hours she could revel in this animalistic state, sinuous and sultry. Slating the sensuous feline creature that would dominate her.

Turning thirty-two and being a beast-shifter made her smile. Life got better and better with each passing year for her.

She was going to a Halloween party in full costume, so what if she really wasn't wearing one? A deep-throated, purring laugh slipped through her full, lush lips. Fooling everyone at the party was her own birthday present to herself. When she was little, she would trick or treat in this form, and people told her how cute she was. They were especially delighted when little Panteara would growl and hiss at them. It was all such a hoot for her.

To others that saw her, she would look like she had worn a dark pelted, skintight bodysuit that hugged and accented her every curve, line and shape, complete with panther ears, long fingernails, and a sexy swinging tail. Panteara was the ultimate cat woman—meow!

She thrived on all the attention she got wherever she went, and tonight would be no exception.

Derek, her old friend from high school, threw the best parties and the ones at Halloween always drew a big crowd. She planned to strut her stuff and find a good, hard male body to roll around in the sheets with later tonight. She loved men, but only on her own terms.

Before heading out the door and to the party, Panteara gave her animalistic appearance one quick glance in the hallway mirror. Grinning wickedly, long canines gleamed pearly white, giving her a sinful and feral look against a deep red backdrop of her glossy lipstick. Soft, feathered whiskers fanned out on either side of her cat-like nose and facial features. Straight dark brown hair streaked with thin strands of golden highlights swung freely about her shoulders.

Her favorite feature was the petite panther ears perched upon the topsides of her head. Twitching them first backward and forward, she'd needed to remember not to do that little number in front of anyone tonight. Vivacious golden-green slanted eyes, with a thick fringing of long eyelashes batted back at her with flirty devilish amusement.

Panteara dripped sexuality from her perky fur-tipped nipples to the red stiletto heels adorning her feet, which matched the color of her long, curved fingernails and lush lips. She hissed, flicking her wrist while clawing at the air in an exaggerated catty gesture, laughing at her feline façade. Panteara might look feminine and harmless, but she could rip out a man's throat without breaking a sweat.

Tonight was definitely going to be a one for the record books. She could feel her sex tightening up in anticipation of the male attention she would no doubt encounter.

"Show time," Panteara purred deliciously as she reached behind herself, keys in hand and closed the door to her apartment, locking it and headed out for a spook-tacular night of hopeful carnal proclivities.

* * * *

Roarke Rawling had been dragged to this ridiculous Halloween party by his sister, Tabby, who was nowhere to be found. At thirty-four years of age, he felt silly getting all dressed up for a costume party. He hated the idea of going to this party to start with, but he would do anything for his little sister, including wearing this stupid lion tamer's costume—which left nothing to the imagination. He hated leg coverings that were so tight his boys protested, like they were doing right this minute. The leather vest was too small, he had to leave it untied, showing off his chest and rock hard abs. Just what he needed, more attention being diverted down toward the obvious bulge between his legs. The only thing he did love about the costume was the black knee-high leather shit-kickers.

Left to his own devices, he had finally sought a shadowy and isolated area of the party to escape all the attention he had been getting from the over zealous and pawing women since he'd arrived. He had at least seven phone numbers and could have been laid four times over, but none of the women so far had sparked one ounce of desire in him. They only succeeded in irritating him. It was all about the chase for him and these women held little appeal to his beastly nature.

Lounging against a wall, Roarke had one knee drawn up and bent back in casual grace, the flat of his booted foot braced upon the wall behind him. With his great height and muscled berth, he looked more like he was holding up the wall than the other way around. His face was masked in a bored expression, which only added to his already overly sexual attractiveness. The hungry stares of women were all around him. He just chose to ignore them.

To Roarke, women were a dime a dozen. They were good for one thing and one thing only—flat on their backs, legs spread wide for his pleasure and to be taken any which way he wanted them. Yes, he knew he was a handsome bastard that could have any woman he desired, and he chuckled at his own self-righteous arrogance.

Roarke had just about had all of this Halloween party he could stand for one night. As he pushed himself away from the wall, the hairs on his body stood at attention and his senses roared to life. Raising his head slightly he took a deep breath.

"Well, I'll be damned," he spoke under his breath.

Another of his kind, a female, had just entered the room and he quickly scanned the party, before his feral glazed lit upon the most gorgeous, primal creature he had even seen.

She moved like liquid silver through the crowded room of costumed revelers, flowing and sensuous, teasing and pleasing to the eye. Both men and women stared at her with carnality clearly mirrored in their gazes.

Well, this night will not be a total loss after all, Roarke mused to himself. Here kitty, kitty, come to daddy.

* * * *

The first thing Panteara noticed was the crush of people all dressed up and well on their way to being shit faced. Wow, she marveled, as she looked around at all the Halloween decorating Derek had done. The windows had black plastic covering them, giving a dark and sinister atmosphere to the party. Dangling cobwebs and spiders, quivered overhead. Skeletons, goblins and ghosts wafted in and out of view, as the party goers moved around the room. Derek even had an old wooden coffin brought in, complete with a realistic vampire ready to rise for his nightly thirst for blood. Michael Jackson's Thriller album was blaring over the speakers positioned throughout the room.

Oh…yeah, this is going to be a wild night of people getting freaky, Panteara smiled to herself.

She always arrived to any social event a couple of hours late, especially when she was hunting for a new play toy. She'd never wanted anyone to define her as desperate.

Panteara by no means lacked male company. She was like a kid in a candy store, and she had to try all the flavors life had to offer. To her, men were fascinating creatures and they fed her animalistic demand for sex. It has been a while since she'd slept with a good, hard man and, by the looks of the selection here tonight, her dry spell might just have to be extended.

Oh, well. She loved Derek's company, too bad her feelings for him were only one of mutual friendship. He was like a brother to her and they had stayed close to each other ever since meeting in high school long ago. She couldn't have asked for a better friend than Derek.

First things first, a drink was in order. Derek really went all out this Halloween, and had a bar set up along one side of his large living room. Panteara was ordering a martini—shaken, not stirred—when the smell of patchouli, but more on the manly side drifted around her. Her acute sense of smell let her know she was not alone.

A deep, hedonistic voice spoke close to her left ear, ruffling the fine hairs near the top of her temple as he did, "I bet I can make you purr."

Panteara slowly turned toward the delicious voice, stepping back, only to have to stop her mouth from gaping wide open. At first, all she could see was this massive wall of muscle. She had to look up and step back once more to get the full picture of the man who stood before her.

For once in her life, she was totally speechless. All she could do was look at this tall drink of water up and down, taking in every scrumptious inch of him. Her eyes kept stalling at the large package between his legs, held in place by the shiny black tights he wore so well.

Finally, she moved past that large treat onto his ripped and muscled abdomen, where again, a fine trail of hair pulled her right back to his sizeable endowment. She swore it grew larger each time she eyed it. Before her stood a tall Greek deity, dressed in a very revealing lion tamer's outfit, complete with a wicked looking whip wrapped around his tight, lean waist. A black leather vest that looked too small for his large frame, partly covered the lightly furred, pale, blonde curly hairs on his chest. He had a strong handsome face, distinctly refined nose and a wide mouth. His lower lip was fuller than his upper, giving him a slightly pouty appeal, which begged her to run her tongue along the seam of those lips. On his thick wrists he wore black leather studded wristbands. She'd bet that his large hands would feel like raw silk moving over her exposed and silken fur.

What almost stopped her heart were his eyes. They resembled orbs of gold stone, a rich burnished brown gemstone with dispersions of gold flecks. She could've drowned in the depth of his sensual gaze. He had a wild mane of tawny hair that was thickly layered around his face. On any other man it would have looked ridiculous, but on him it was sexier than hell.

Panteara had almost fallen under his sexual spell until she noticed he'd hiked up one blonde eyebrow and his lips parted in a grin of pure male arrogance, exposing strong white teeth, a look that said, I am gorgeous and I know it.

Panteara gave herself a mental shake, and then narrowed her eyes at him. He wanted to play, then let the games begin.

"What's your name…stud?" she purred as she slinked across the last couple of feet that separated them, then ran the pads of her fingertips along the bulging biceps and triceps of one of his arms, her other hand was placed seductively on a cocked hip.

His flesh quivered in the wake of her touch. As it did, shocks of primal recognition sparked up Panteara's fingertips.

"That would be 'Mate' to you, pussy…cat."

Holy mother of…

He was one of her kind, but much worse…a beast-shifting lion, known far and wide to be fierce and possessive creatures, with a hot temper and sexually insatiable. Damn. She should have known when she had smelled that heady scent. But then again, she had never been around lion-shifters before this.

Panteara needed to keep a cool head. She was not going to let anybody push her around, even if she found him irresistible and wanted to do him every which way from Tuesday. Needing to think fast, she used her best weapon—her body.

Rubbing up against him, like a cat rubbing against the legs of their owner, she purred and licked at his neck. She felt him tense up and then melt into her body.

"I need to visit the little girl's room. Promise to wait right here for me?"

Roarke growled softly, "Hurry back."

As Panteara walked away with hips swaying seductively, her treacherous body lifted up her tail in a signal of feline arousal. In other words, she had gone into heat. Her body had accepted what her mind hadn't—that she'd found a mate.

Great, what next?

Chapter Two

Roarke watched her sleek half-panther and human physique strut away from him. He groaned at the sight of her tail rising and the muscles of her ass tighten and flex with each jaunty step she took. The sight sent hard jolts of desire directly to his already stiff cock.

While she was in the restroom, he asked around the party and had found out her name, Panteara Pereira. He also found out she had two other siblings, Troy and Rio, who also happened to be very protective of their little sister.

What was taking her so long? What exactly do women do when they go to the restroom?

Roarke got a bad feeling. It had been a good fifteen minutes since she had left him standing here waiting for her.

He had watched her walk down one hallway, so she must still be in there. His need to protect his mate was overwhelming and finding her was instinctive for his kind. When he got to the bathroom door that had a sign hung on it, Boo Poo. He chuckled in spite of himself.

He noticed the door was ajar and not bothering to knock, Roarke stepped inside. The first thing he noticed was the window was opened and her feline scent lingered only slightly in the air. Why that little minx thinks she can run from me.

Every instinct in his body roared to life. Her running from him was firing up his beast. Now Panteara was going to get it. And, he was just the man to have her screaming his name, over and over again, until she knew who she belonged to—him. Once he got his scent on her and seed in her, no man or beast-shifter, would dare touch her ever again. She would be marked as his for all times.

He was glad his sister had found a friend to hang with and get a ride home later. Roarke could only handle one precocious puss at a time, and the current one was in deep shit right this minute.

It was time to tame his naughty pussycat. Running from him was futile and he was going to teach her that. A feral, toothy smile spread across his face, as he licked his lips in anticipation of the lessons ahead.

He'd only had sex with human women and now he could let out his beast. Roarke would let the full force of his animal strength be unleashed on his wayward mate. The feeling of raw power roared through his veins. He wanted to growl from his thoughts of what he would to Panteara when he got his hands on her.

* * * *

The moment she closed the bathroom door behind her, Panteara knew she needed to get the hell away from that beast-shifter. If he got his hands on her, she'd be unable to resist his sexual magnetism. She was afraid of the sexual predator in him. She'd never tangled with a lion-shifter and wasn't sure she could handle his brand of incensed passion. Panteara managed to slip her body through the bathroom window without taking off half her hide in the process. That had been one small widow.

Once outside, Panteara headed straight for her car only to find it blocked in on all sides by others attending the Halloween party. Great, just great, she fumed. Now what was she to do?

Think…

Hell, what was there to think about, she'd walk home or go back inside, not a hard decision really—walk.

By the time she'd walked a couple of blocks, her stiletto heels weren't quite so sexy anymore, but she hadn't planned on walking for miles in them either. Deciding on taking a shortcut through a neighborhood park, it cut her walking time in half. She could also walk barefoot on the grassy areas.

About halfway into the park and close to a wooded area, Panteara heard a low animalistic growl close by. Without stopping to think, she broke out into a dead run. Knowing better than to run from a beast-shifter did not stop her survival instinct from kicking in but also, a girl couldn't look too easy, either.

She'd gotten no more than a hundred yards before a large fierce lion blocked her path of escape. Even in his frightening, angered form of a lion, he moved with quiet grace. Moonlight from overhead, outlined and enhanced the power and muscle structure lying beneath his glossy golden coat of fur. The lush, full blonde mane that surrounded his neck gave him a regal and proud bearing. His eyes still held some of his human soul within them, but the rest was primal and slowly stalking close toward her. The lion licked its whiskered muzzle. It looked like she was going to be served up hot and fresh tonight. A zing of sexual excitement caused her sex to twitch and throb.

With her hands out in front of her body in a motion of surrender, Panteara spoke in a soothing tone. "Nice boy. Good kitty. No need to get testy now." She didn't keep direct eye contact with him, she was afraid of getting burned by the fiery anger that bled from his gold orbs.

Right before her very eyes, he shifted from all fours, gradually unfurling into his tall height and back to two, long muscled legs. Her eyes opened wider at his awesomeness as he transformed back into his human counterpart. She was enthralled as the powerful lion morphed into an even more impressive large golden man—and so well hung—it could make a grown woman moan and whimper from its thick, lengthy beauty encased in black tights.

Locking eyes with his, despite him being in his human form, his eyes held a powerful message and the intensity they gave off made her body shiver from the knowledge of what he was going to do to her now. She would pay for running from him.

Standing before her, he was once again a magnificent lion tamer. Then with calculated movements, he started stripping. He started with his leather vest, which really did not hide much to begin with, letting it glide down over his broad shoulders and muscled arms until it hit the ground behind him. Never taking his eyes off of her, he unsnapped each wristband, flinging them away as he did. Next, went the boots, toeing them off with graceful ease. The socks followed in the path with the boots up on the damp grass.

With each article of clothing that left his body, Panteara panted a little harder, and her legs started to become rubbery. She fought to keep her composure and not melt at his feet, begging for him to take her—take her hard and fast. The last vestige of his clothing was pealed down his strong-corded legs. He wore only a nasty knowing grin, a huge erection and the lion tamer's whip unfurled next to his nude body.

Panteara jumped when he cracked the whip, getting her full and undivided attention. Like he didn't have it before?

He walked with a prowl-like tread toward her. "Don't even think of moving, not even to blink," he said, pronouncing each word in a warning growl.

Her skin crawled with fear and lust, as each step brought him closer to her. She could smell her own arousal as it trickled down her inner thighs.

His head lifted and tilted back as he sniffed the air. Fresh lust was apparent in his piercing golden gaze. An arrogant smile broke apart his lips and his eyes hooded in knowing assurance that she was his.

Within a hair's breadth of touching, he reached up and fisted his hand into the back of her hair, forcing her head backward. His other hand still had the wicked looking whip dangling behind him. The thought of that whip, and what he might do to her, caused a nervous twitch down deep inside her pussy.

"My name is Roarke, but you will call me Master. I want to hear you say it. Now!"

He watched her moisten her lips with her pink tongue as her eyes dilated with desire as he instructed her. A tongue he would have licking and worshiping his cock soon.

When Panteara hesitated for just a second, he whirled the whip around and above their heads, then pulled it down in a commanding flick of his wrist. Only to have it land close to her feet with a wicked snapping recoil vibrating the air.

She grasped loudly, "Yes, Master."

His hot words flowed over her. His explicit and commanding terms caused her sex to twitch and contract with each voiced demand. Her throat constricted and she fought to swallow as she willed her limbs to stop trembling.

Burying his nose and lips close to her neck he'd exposed with a firm tug of the hair, he still held firmly wrapped within his large fist. He growled another command.

"Grasp your hands behind your back and spread your legs wide apart. And stay that way."

To help her along, he wedged a knee between her legs and pushed.

Running his rough textured tongue near her ear, he whispered, "Good pussycat. Now don't move."

Using the handle of the whip, he ran it down between her legs, caressing the inside of each thigh before finally moving it up into the folds of her sodden sex, teasing and torturing her highly sensitive clit. He knew he was driving her to her breaking point—it was, after all, his plan. Roarke needed to establish dominance over her body and mind. Then, and only then, would he show his true emotions to his mate.

Panteara whimpered and pressed her body against his as he licked her neck after giving it little nips and nibbles, while working the handle of the whip gently with smooth strokes along the hood of her swollen clitoris.

He pulled the handle back and brought it up under his nose, taking a deep whiff of her juices that dripped down the leather handle. His tongue eased out from between his parted lips, to lick the handle like it was a juicy lollipop. Moaning his pleasure, he devoured every dewy drop.

"You taste like a ripe peach. I bet if I split you open you'd even look just like one."

Her eyes were closed tight and her breathing was ragged and uneven, as she fought not to collapse.

"Poor little kitty," he purred against her lips. He played his tongue along the seam of her full lips, and then he rubbed his lips along her jaw-line, growling as he did. Finally, he kissed her with all the pent up tension and passion he'd been holding back.

Panteara moaned as he played with her mouth. He would be rough one minute, soothing the next. Suddenly he dropped the whip, and swinging her into his hefty arms, walked toward a park bench not far from where they had been standing.

He quickly sat down with her still in his arms and positioned her over his distended cock. "Put your legs on either side of my hips. I want you to ride me. Take your pleasure with me deep inside of you. I want you filled with my seed."

Panteara was rocked to her core, shaking with the overwhelming need to breed. "I—I need help." She had even had trouble getting words through her passion-swelled lips.

Roarke took deep gulps of air, trying to get his beast under control. She was getting close to changing back to her human form as the midnight hour approached. Her twenty-four hour shift of being a playful puss was coming to an end. Weakness always followed the change.

He stroked her furred back, gentling her with soft words, holding her close to his heart. The feel of her pelt was sensuous and familiar to his fingers.

When she had settled, he used his fingertip to raise her chin so that she was looking into his eyes, feeling the needs emanating from his feral stare.

"I have to fuck you. I need to feel you around my cock, drowning in the passions that spark and flow between us." He watched for a sign of acknowledgement and acceptance from Panteara. She brought out the protector in him and animalistic tendencies of possessiveness he never knew existed within his beast. The fierce burning need to take control and love.

"I am good. In fact, I feel an awakening of my feline senses—alive for the first time in my life. I didn't realize the connection between mates would be so strong, flowing like a live charge."

"That's my pussycat." He gave her a sexy wink and then kissed her soundly on the lips to satisfy his need to touch and taste of her.

Lifting her effortlessly, Roarke placed her over his pronounced cock, teasing the wet entrance of her muscled portal. Mixing their lubrications to enter her carefully, yet it would still be a very stretched fit.

Panteara put her hands on top his wide shoulders to balance herself atop his large fullness. As he worked his thick stiffness into her, he felt like molten steel forging up inside of her tight wetness. They bonded and blended together as one solid mass of writhing and pulsing flesh. Two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle paired in perfection. God, he felt good when his cock hit the fleshy bulb of her uterus. The sound of their joining was wet and stimulating to the ear. Driving up the flames of demands for each other—within each other—marking the other emotionally and physically and sending sharp prickles firing up all the way to the tips of her nipples. She let her head fall back and her lips parted emitting a moaning purr.

Slowly, Roarke rocked his hips up and back, then side to side. The whole time using his body as a carnal weapon against her body, letting the hairs of his groin tickle and worry her clit. Raising and lowering her pussy slowly and then thrusting powerfully into her. Alternating his rhythm, he kept finding and hitting the spot that was driving her crazy. Beads of sweat broke out along his hairline, trickling down his forehead.

As the pleasure in their bodies built, the air around them was filled with the moans and groans of erotic fervor. The smell of sex filled their senses and fueled the need to fuck harder, faster.

Roarke reached between their pulsating and pumping bodies to tweak her clit. Growling close to her face, "Tell me, who am I. Scream for your mate. Scream my name. Say it. Now!" And with those sexual arousing commands, he parted the flesh that guarded the hood of her clit, pressing up and back, with the tip his finger.

His masterful touch and words rocketed her into orgasmic release. A resounding scream of, "Roarke…Roarke…Roarke", slipped through her lips in a ragged yell. Her words hit him with a force that drew up his balls. He couldn't hold back the gush of seed that filled her, only to wash back down onto his lap between their joined bodies.

Panteara had changed back into human form by the time Roarke managed to find out where she lived and drove them there. Once at her apartment, he carried her straight to bed, carefully and lovingly putting her to bed and covering her up.

He checked all the doors and window, making sure all was locked and secure. His territorial and protective nature was fully engaged and appeased before he finally found his rest. Pulling her sleeping form tightly against his body, curling around her, Roarke formed a cocoon of protectiveness with his large body. Finding his peace, he let himself drift to sleep.

Chapter Three

Roarke slowly opened his eyes. Something was not right and his feline senses were on alert. He ran a possessive hand down Panteara's soft, curved flank, loving her feminine yet animalistic spirit, one that connected her completely to him. Watching her as she slept gave him comfort and quieted the beast that had been raging in him for as long as he could remember.

His parents had told Roarke that once he found his mate, his animalistic nature would be quieted—controllable, but he just never truly believed them. He'd never thought he would have felt so completely content with one woman. Thank God he had been wrong. Losing himself inside of her warm and welcoming pussy had been heaven to him.

He suddenly stilled, like the calm after a fierce storm and his nostrils flared, as he smelled the sent of another male invading his territory. His upper lip curled and a low growl rumbled in his chest. He could feel the change already starting as his dominant nature to protect what was his started to overtake him. No one, especially another male was getting near his mate. As the bedroom door quietly opened, he sprang up from the bed in full lion form ready to defend his property—his woman.

Before he could attack, Panteara jumped between both beast-shifted males, holding them by the scruffs of their necks. Her arms were stretched as far apart as she could to keep them a part. It was like being wedged between two overgrown spitting kittens, both growling and snarling at the other. Panteara shook her head and rolled her eyes at them. Men acted so stupid sometimes.

She would deal with her big brother later. Right now Panteara needed to soothe the hunter and protector instincts that were emanating off of Roarke in waves, like the grains of sand in a windstorm, hot and stingy when they blew by her.

Turning toward Roarke, Panteara quietly reassured him that everything was okay and to wait there while she spoke to her brother, as she dragged Troy out of the bedroom. Before shutting the door on his nosey ass, she told him she would call him later and explain everything to him. Reminding him once more what a phone was invented for—to call first!

With her back to the closed door, Panteara faced Roarke. What she saw made her eyes widen and her insides shudder. He had turned back into his human form, yet she could see him struggling to retain it. His face was a mask of pure fury and his stance ridged with controlled rage.

Speaking with soft reassurance, she walked carefully and slowly toward him. One hand held up in front of her body. "It was just my brother checking on me. Everything is okay. No need to be angry. Take it easy."

Within inches of Roarke, she reached up to touch his face. Her hand shook as she did. The only part of him that moved was his chillingly cold eyes as they followed her movements. Eyes now fading from fury to unadulterated savage heat. Panteara feared at any moment he would snap at her.

Without preamble he growled out, "Get your ass on that bed and lay flat on your back. Put your hands over your head and spread those long legs of yours wide open for me."

Panteara didn't hesitate this time. She quickly scrambled up onto the twisted bedding. Bedding that was still warm from their bodies. He didn't turn around and face her until she was positioned exactly as he had demanded of her. His naval high cock bounced and weaved as he made his way over to her. On top of the bed, he stalked toward her on all fours, scenting the air as he did. His blond mane of hair was wildly tousled about his head and shoulders, giving him an even fiercer predatory appearance. Full lips were pulled over his teeth, bared and clinched in growling savagery. His need for dominance and, by taking her, would be the only means to appease his animalistic emotions warring inside him. She had to let him find relief and release within her body. She was the ground for his beast. Calming the animal—the lion that he was.

He stared at her full unshaven pubic area. The beast and man in him liked his women natural, with a thick thatch of hair adorning their precious treasure. The curly hairs seemed to hold and nurture the earthy fragrance of a women's perfume. He licked along his upper lip, as he took in her lush, woolen beauty.

Running his nose into fragrant curls, he couldn't help but voice his praise. "Beautiful and mine."

His warm breath ruffled the spongy dark curls, parting them here and there. Blowing across them a few more times made Panteara squirm and moan from the subtle windy caresses.

"I lust to have you coating my tongue and face, imbedding your scent before you cover my cock with your creaminess."

His tongue, cat-like and rough, slipped into the folds of her pussy. Lightly scraping and dragging his wet, warm tongue, using it to separating her like a split piece of fruit. A fruit that was juicy and ripe, ready to be eaten—savored.

This was a woman who's very being called to his beast. He'd always been sexually aggressive. With her, he was more so. The need for dominance and control fed his animalistic side. Now he would feed off her.

Panteara loved being eaten out, but this man had the tongue of a god. Every nerve in her body fired and sizzled. The erotic image of his head between her legs made her excited beyond words. Giving over his pleasure for her heightened and aroused her, which triggered an intense and blinding orgasm. She couldn't stop the scream that ripped from her lungs and out into the air. "Roarke!"

This pleased him immensely. "I love the taste, the texture and the smell of you. I will dine on you daily, pussycat."

He licked and lathed her pussy, not wanting to miss one drop of her fluid juice.

Not giving Panteara a moment to catch her breath or come down from her screaming orgasm, Roarke flipped her over. "Get on your hands and knees. Stick that fine ass of yours up in the air. I am going to fuck you like an animal."

Positioning himself behind her, kneeling amid her splayed knees, he rubbed his hard cock at the opening of her sex. He gripped her lush hips, giving her ass a firm resounding slap.

"Oww," Panteara squealed with a start, more from the sound than from pain. It actually stimulated her, causing her to lurch forward, rubbing her sensitive nipples on the sheets. He was creating a sexual craving within her.

"You like that don't you, pussycat? Then how about this." Thrusting balls deep and holding her hips tightly against his groin. Not giving her any mercy or time to adjust to his generous cock. It felt like he was going to split her in two.

"Relax your muscles, let your body go. You can take all of me without it being uncomfortable." He slowly withdrew his large, hard cock, only to slam it back into her hot sheath—a portal that deeply suckled up and down every inch of his rod. Growling as he worked to tame and master her body. Her pussy fit him like a second skin, tight and fiercely comforting.

When he got through with her, she'd never forget whom she belonged to. He was going to fuck her so hard; she would be able to taste him in her mouth. Tonight, he was going to mark her for all times.

Roarke was feeling the stress of being on his knees and fighting to work himself in and out of Panteara's tight core. He felt the beginnings of her cunt starting to shudder, and then freeze up as an orgasm was coming upon her. Leaning forward he bit down on the area between her neck and shoulder, his teeth sank deeply into her flesh, right where the two soft curves met. He was marking his mate so others of his kind would know she was his and to keep the hell away from his possession.

Panteara's body seized, then broke out in rocking spasms of pained ecstasy. The combination of his animalistic lovemaking and bite were more than her treacherous body could withstand. Her screams permeated the air. Heavy primal pants were forced through her lungs, like an animal that was overheated.

When she started to collapse down onto her elbows, he held her hips tightly in place to reach his own pinnacle. His roar drowned out the stillness of the room. Panteara was clawing and gripping the sheet, trying to hold back his powerful thrusts and stay on the top of the bed. He released his cum deep within her thirsting channel.

* * * *

Panteara felt Roarke shaking her awake. "W—wh—what do you want, Roarke?" she muttered still half asleep.

"Who the hell is Roarke?" her brother Troy asked.

She shook her head a couple of times and wiped her hand across her eyes to clear her sleepy vision. "What are you doing back here again? I thought I told you I would call you."

"Panteara, are you okay? I have not been here today. We agreed that we would go together to Derek's Halloween party tonight, remember?" He looked slightly concerned with her disoriented state.

Lifting up upon her elbow and trying to pull herself into a sitting position, which she finally managed, she looked around her bedroom, pulling stray hairs away from her face. Could her and Roarke been all a dream? Hell…who dreamt of being a cat woman that changed to half panther and half human on her birthday? W-ild! Man, what an exotic and erotic dream. She'd remember to never eat Mexican food before taking a nap.

Troy was all rigged out as a sexy pirate, complete with eye patch and a colorful fake parrot perched on his shoulder. She wondered how in the hell he got it to stay there?

"Give me an hour to get ready. Okay? I swear, I will hurry," she said to her brother as she pushed her rumpled ass up off the bed and dashed straight for her bathroom where she already had her cat woman costume hanging on the back of the bathroom door ready to wear.

Troy just shook his head and chuckled. "Okay." He walked back into the living room to watch TV while he waited for his nutty sister.

* * * *

As soon as they entered Derek's party, Panteara and Troy split company. He headed straight for a group of costumed, giggling women and she to the bar. God, she needed a drink.

She slowly looked around the party that was so weird she thought to herself, gulping down half the martini the bartender had just handed her. The decorations and the people from her dream were just about the same. Looking around there was one thing different—no lion tamer—no Roarke. Too bad it had all been a fantastical dream. Damn, for a dream lover, he was great in bed. A girl could really get used to that big cock and domineering tongue.

An unusual scent waft in the air around her, which brought a memorable twinge to her feminine senses, and goose-pimples to rise on her arms. It smelled familiar. Then a very warm-bodied presence crowded her back. She felt a pair of firm warm lips whisper against her neck and a deep sexy voice from behind her growled, "I bet I can make you purr."

A pouty, knowing smirk coveted Panteara's feline made up features. She did not even bother to turn around completely. She just turned her head toward the source, batting her long eyelashes. "Meo-wwww."

About the Author

Skylar Sinclair is the product of wonderfully supportive parents who always told her she could do or be anything, and writing is just one of her many facets. Crafting paranormal, fantasy and contemporary erotic romances gives her wings to fly in her imagination.

Skylar loves to her from her readers, and you can email her at skylar.sinclair@yahoo.com or stop by her site www.skylarsinclair.com to see all of her upcoming releases.

What's Your Pleasure?

GET YOURS AT www.Phaze.com!

The hottest romance, the most memorable heroines,

and the most gorgeous heroes…

Welcome to the next PHAZE in erotic romance!

Join us online for author chats, writing workshops,

and big prize contests with our FREE newsletter!

www.phaze.com

groups.yahoo.com/group/PhazeChatters

phazebooks.ning.com (new forum!)

eBooks available at Fictionwise.com, CyberRead.com,

and AllRomanceeBooks.com,

Print titles available at Amazon.com, BN.com,

and BooksAMillion.com!