Rage & Killian (13 page)

Each one driving him insane with lust.

He fell back onto the pillow, taking her with him. And she responded instantly. Getting on top of him, straddling him, growling at him as he worked her mouth. He left her hair and plunged both hands underneath her tank top. Hot, smooth skin assaulted his unworthy hands. She groaned into his mouth and arched into his touch. The need to flip her onto her back, strip her naked, and drive his cock deep inside her was so intense, he had to fight with himself about it.

And shit, if he was going to admit it, fight with something else too…

He raked his palms up both sides of her waist, up her ribcage, until he felt the soft curve of her breasts. His chest ached to feel her pressed against him. And his cock, fuck, his cock was already leaking at the tip. Anticipation. His own personal hell. He cursed his need into her mouth as she lifted her chest just enough for him to slip his hands underneath and capture her breasts.

Shit, he was going to lose it.

And why did that “thing” inside him keep snarling the word
mine
over and over again? Maybe because it wanted her. All of her. Every inch. First with his hands, then his tongue—then his cock.

He kneaded her breasts, played with them as he played with her tongue and sucked it into his mouth. Rosalie held back nothing, and he loved it. She had his thigh between her legs and was dry-fucking him. No. Not dry at all. Very, very wet, even with the cotton sweats between them.

As one hand teased her nipple, Killian slipped the other under the waistband of her sweats. It wasn’t easy. She was grinding against him. So strong. Christ, he was into her strength. It was so goddamned hot.

She
was so goddamned hot.

The second his hand met smooth, wet pussy, Killian was gone. On another planet. One he wanted to exist on for eternity. He slid his finger through her warm lips and found her clit swollen and ready. As he consumed her mouth, played her nipple and stroked her clit, he listened to the sounds she made against his lips. Moans of pleasure, snarls of animalistic hunger.

And he understood the language of both.

Leaving his thumb to work the needy bud, Killian slipped two fingers inside her pussy. Instantly her hot, tight walls clamped around him, suckling him. Jesus…he was going to fucking come without her having even touched him.

“I feel it,” he uttered against her mouth as he started to thrust inside her. “Come for me, Rosalie.”

She froze.

Utterly and completely.

From the top of her head to her feet.

And so did Killian.

“What…” he uttered. “What’s wrong?”

She was scrambling off him before the last word was even out of his mouth.

“What the hell?” he said, sitting up. Shit, she was off the bed, her back to him. “Are you okay?”

She didn’t have to say the word
no
. He could feel that word radiating off her shaking body. What had he done?

“Never. Never again.” She glanced over her shoulder and gave him a look of such hate, he felt it in his marrow. “Human.”

She slammed the door when she walked out.

Leaving Killian to stare after her.

His second nightmare of the night.

Chapter 5

As the sun awoke in the sky before her, guilt and self-hatred swam in Rosalie’s blood. Not only had she let another male kiss and touch her, but he was a human. She refused to believe what she’d scented last night. He may have been infused with something to try and pass as a Pantera, but he was no true puma shifter. He was human. The very species that had taken her mate from her. Tears threatened, but she pushed them back. She didn’t deserve the sweet relief they would bring. She deserved the cold morning air assaulting her still-heated skin. She deserved exhaustion. She deserved the hard wood surface of the porch steps against her ass.

She deserved pain.

“Have you been sitting out here all night?”

She glanced up. Backlit by the early morning’s light, Raphael was coming up the walkway. He looked totally put-together in a dark-gray suit, crisp white shirt, and maroon tie. All business. As usual.

“Just doing my job, sir,” she said with a mock salute.

“And yet you didn’t scent me until I was almost on top of you,” he said, stopping at the bottom step.

She laughed. Bitterly. “You and Ashe have a nice romantic morning?” When his eyes widened slightly, she nodded. “Oh, I scented you, sir. From the second you walked out your front door.”

His gaze moved over her, assessing as he always did. “Are you all right, Rosalie?”

“Never better,” she answered with a false smile. “So, are you here for the prisoner? Am I taking him to the border and kicking his ass out of the Wildlands?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so.” She shook her head, slowly. “Am I taking him to his lovely new cabin near the bayou, serving him breakfast, and welcoming him to the Wildlands as an honored guest?”

The male pushed out a breath. “What you’re going to do is go home.”

She grunted.

“Get some sleep,” he continued. “Take a shower and report to Parish at midday.”

“Fuck that,” she tossed out.

“Rosalie,” he said, his nostrils flaring as his chin lifted, “you’re pushing me. Forcing me into disciplining you.”

She snorted. “Boy, the daddy thing is really going to your head. How is little Soyala, by the way?” One brow lifted sardonically. “I imagine an excellent sleeper, by the way you smell.”

“Your anger is growing out of control.”

“You have no idea.” The words rushed from her mouth without thought. Instantly, she wished she could bite them back because Raphael’s expression changed from aggravated to worried in an instant.

“You need to see one of the Healers,” he said,

Yep. Biting them back would’ve been awesome
. “I’m curious, Raphael,” she said calmly. “Would you say that to me if I was a male?” She stood up. “Or would you pat me on the back, invite me out for a drink at The Cougar’s Den, then halfway through a game of pool tell me I should get laid?”

Most males would’ve gotten immediately defensive, but Raphael was totally unaffected by her candor—or her baiting, depending on how one looked at it. “I treat grief as it should be treated, Hunter. With compassion, care, understanding,
and
a kick in the ass if needed. Male or female. Now.” He gave her a pointed look. “Go home.”

“The human is mine to guard,” she fought. “Until he no longer needs it.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean
why
? It’s my job. I’m doing my job.” She sounded as though she barely believed it herself.

“And I’m doing mine,” Raphael said softly. “Go home. Lian will take over.”

“No,” came a male voice behind them. “Rosalie stays with me.”

Both Rosalie and Raphael turned to find Killian standing at the doorway. Shit, she hadn’t scented him, but she sure
saw
him. Hungrily, her gaze ran over his six-foot-something frame. Jeans, black tank, hard muscle, bare feet, wet hair. A rush of lust shot through her body as her mind conjured images of herself on her knees, pulling down that zipper with her teeth.

Sudden, unwanted tears pricked at her eyes with the thought, and she quickly swiped at them with her hand. She was in trouble. And the kind she’d never had to deal with before. She needed to stop fighting. Follow Raphael’s orders and go home. Shower. Sleep. Get her head on straight and never see this human again. He was screwing with her mind. Had since he’d crawled up onto the shore like a gorgeous laboratory-grown mistake.

Goddess, she needed her cat. Her heart jumped inside her chest. If she walked away from this, from him, she could walk away in her puma form. As long as she wasn’t around the human—

“You seem to think you have a say in this, Mr. O’Roarke,” Raphael returned, his tone cool.

“Maybe I do,” he said casually, but Rosalie didn’t miss the dogged set of his shoulders and jaw. “I’m about to let you dissect me, mentally and physically, and I only want two things out of it. The first you know. The second.” His gaze flickered to Rosalie. “Unless she wants out, of course.”

Rosalie felt the weight of both their stares and wanted to disappear. Behind Raphael’s intense gaze was a need to understand, and concern. Lots of concern. And behind the human’s… Attraction, challenge, curiosity.

What would she do? After last night’s idiocy, what
should
she do? And Goddess, what had the human asked Raphael for?

So many questions. Ones she’d have to wait to have answered. Well, she had time.

“Where do you want him?” she asked the leader of the Pantera in that all-business tone he appreciated. “And when?”

As the seconds ticked by, it seemed as though the Head Suit might continue to argue the point with her. But, for whatever reason, he held off. “Have him at the clinic in thirty minutes. Jean-Baptiste and I will meet you there.”

“Yes, sir.”

She watched him go, stride across the lawn in his oh-so-fine suit, then she headed back into the house. Killian’s scent was everywhere. In the air, the furniture…maybe even her lungs. She growled with irritation at the fact, yet followed it like a hungry cub into the kitchen. The man was seated at the table, tucked into a bowl of cereal. She went and stood over him, fuming.

“Problem, Hunter?” he asked, pouring milk onto his Lucky Charms.
Typical Lian, bringing that over here
. The Hunter was obsessed with that shit.

“I don’t need you coming to my rescue,” she ground out. “Human.”

He glanced up. His jaw was brushed with dark morning beard. “Is that what you thought I was doing?”

Rosalie wondered what the stubble would feel like against her tongue. Around his mouth. Biting his bottom lip. He liked that…responded to—

Fuck. Me.
“Just hurry up and finish,” she growled.

He shook his head and went back to his cereal. “So I’m gathering we’re not going to talk about last night.”

She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms over her chest. “You mean the nightmare?”

“Honey, I’d never call you, your kisses, or what you did to me a nightmare.” His eyes flashed with humor, and something else…

That something else made her nipples tighten.

“Eat,” she hissed.

He took an enormous bite, crunching away, then asked, “Are you starving yourself again?”

“No. I already had breakfast.”

“When?”

“Before the sun came up.”

“Couldn’t sleep, huh?” He nodded. “Yeah. I had a real
hard
time of it myself.” He grinned before scooping up another spoonful of cereal.

She wanted to slap that grin right off his face!

No…wait. That’s not what she wanted to do at all.

She wanted
to
kiss
that grin right off his face. Then make him groan. Then let him make her groan…

Panic spread through her blood and she uttered a terse, “Be outside in five minutes.”

She stormed from the room and out the front door, stopping only when she hit the top of the steps. She gripped the railing. Her heart was slamming against her ribs, her mouth was dry, and she wanted to cry. Again. Fucking pussy.

Mercier…
She glanced up into the powder blue sky.
I’m sorry. I’ve betrayed you.

Chapter 6

 “You’re going to leave me with a few pints, right?” Killian asked the technician who’d just taken his tenth blood sample of the day.

Ford—the male with black eyes and a scar down the right side of his face—replied dryly, “Try and think of it like we’re already removing our DNA from you.”

Killian sniffed. “Just feels like you’re bleeding me dry. Not exactly what I thought was going to happen.”

Jean-Baptiste, who left the three other techs on the opposite side of the room to their computer screens and DNA processing and analysis equipment, walked over to him. “What were you thinking?”

“Well, I was hoping you’d have…an antidote. Something that could go right into my bloodstream and kill whatever they injected me with.”

The massive, tatted-up doctor laughed. “Oh, if only it was that simple. We’ve got urine, saliva tests, MRI…but we’re going to need more blood. Blood tells us everything. A basic metabolic panel to reveal any diseases you might have, how the organs are functioning. And then an analysis of proteins, DNA and RNA—see what’s happening from those all-powerful injections.”

“Sounds like you have some experience with this already,” Killian said. “A protocol in place.” Back in the lab, toward the latter part of his “stay,” he’d heard talk of Pantera prisoners who had been experimented on. It was those days especially when he couldn’t help despising his own species. Nothing was sacred. Not even life.

Raphael walked in then, took a quick look around, and headed straight for Killian.

“Do what you gotta do, Doc,” Killian told Jean-Baptiste, dropping back against the pillow. “I think I’m going to be hanging out here a while.”

“Five hours and counting.” Raphael handed him a donut wrapped in a napkin. Chocolate glazed. Then pulled up a chair. “Eat it. It’ll help.”

“I’m fine, man.”

“That’s right. I forgot. Super solider.” His brows lifted. “But loss of blood is loss of blood. No matter who or what we are.”

True that
. And his stomach was making all kinds of noise, so…he took a bite. Then another. “Thanks.”

Raphael nodded. “Now, Benson Enterprises. What do you know about them?”

The male wasted no time. Not that Killian blamed him. They both wanted answers. “Benson was the name of the clinic. Given to me by my commanding officer when I requested an eval, or something to help with my PTSD.”

The leader’s pupils dilated. “Commanding officer’s name?”

Killian stalled out for a second. The guy had a family, wife, and kids. He didn’t want to—

“Just need all the information, Mr. O’Roarke,” Raphael said as if reading his mind. “I’ve got to connect the dots.”

Killian eyed the male. “I’ve known the guy for years, served under him. I’m sure he knew nothing about what was going to happen to me. He’d never send a man under his command into danger unprotected like that. I don’t want him or his family hurt.”