Read Therian Prisoner: 3 (Therian Heat) Online

Authors: Cyndi Friberg Friberg

Tags: #Erotica

Therian Prisoner: 3 (Therian Heat) (15 page)

BOOK: Therian Prisoner: 3 (Therian Heat)
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Her ankles rested on his shoulders, her jeans bunched behind his neck. She was a willing prisoner, thrilled to be at his mercy. His wings arched into the darkness, making him seem more fallen angel than demanding Therian. She combed her fingers through his hair and gazed at the stars winking down at them. The heavens seemed pleased with her choice as they bathed her in gentle light.

His lips moved against her and his tongue explored with possessive thoroughness. She embraced the sensations, reveling in the passion as never before. He centered his mouth over her clit then pushed two fingers into the center of her body. She tightened her inner muscles, caressing his fingers as they slid in and out.

“Come for me, kitten,” he whispered against her wet folds. “Let me feel your pleasure before I’m lost in my own.”

Happy to oblige, she concentrated on the tension rapidly building between her thighs. Her core rippled around his fingers and her clit twitched against his tongue. Each tight circle he drew pushed the sensations higher.

He withdrew his fingers and raised her hips as he pushed his tongue into her passage.
Mine
. The word was low, more growl than actual sound. She didn’t think he’d meant to share the thought, but it sent excitement ricocheting through her body. She wanted to be his, knew she’d only be content with Ian at her side.

His upper lip pressed against her clit while his tongue swirled inside her. Pleasure burst with sudden force and she cried out in blissful surprise. He stayed with her, prolonging the spasms as he feasted on her cream. It was raw and blatantly carnal, everything she needed it to be.

Before the last tingle subsided, he untangled her legs and flipped her over. Something coarse scraped her knee, but it didn’t matter. He turned her a bit to the side as he ripped off one of her shoes and pulled her leg free of her jeans. Moving the bunched fabric off to the side, he settled on his knees behind her. Denver’s lights spread out before them, a glowing tapestry of illumination and shadow.

“It’s so beautiful,” she whispered.

His hands gripped her hips and he thrust into her with enough force to steal her breath. Her inner walls stretched around him, clinging briefly before he pulled nearly out. He paused, allowing her body to ache for just a moment. Then he thrust again, filling the emptiness to overflowing.

She tossed her head and arched her back, feeling savage and exhilarated, and loving the freedom for the first time. This was how it was meant to be, how it would always be with Ian. He drove hard and fast, holding nothing back. The steady swish of his wings added to the surreal urgency and she reveled in his aggression.

Instinctively reaching for their link, she opened for him. His desire blazed through her mind and she gasped, digging her fingers into the ground. He was beyond rational thought, consumed completely by passion. She absorbed the frenzy, allowing the impulses to fuel her responses.

Heat coalesced between her thighs, dragging a sharp cry from her throat. She squeezed him as tight as she could and pleasure detonated with staggering force. He drove his full length into her, using his wings as well as his legs. He clung to her as release shuddered through them both.

Strength bled from her muscles and a sleepy calm crept over her body. She wanted to curl up and fall asleep right here on the mountaintop. He stroked her back and slipped one hand beneath her clothes to gently squeeze her breast.

“You asked for that.” He nipped the side of her neck and she laughed. Joy bubbled across their link. She wasn’t sure where the emotion originated, but it soon filled them both.

“I
needed
that.”

He pulled her up and urged her head to the side as his lips found hers. The kiss was slow and tender, perfectly matching the contentment swelling within her. He caressed her breasts and belly, but his touch was light and he avoided her sensual triggers. Their mouths slid and pressed, communicating emotions they were not yet ready to name.

“We should go.” With obvious regret, he separated their bodies and zipped up his pants. Then he helped her to her feet, so she could right her clothing and put on her shoe. All the while he nuzzled her hair and rubbed her upper arms. “I wanted to let you decide when to tell your family.” He eased back and looked into her eyes. “Now everyone will know as soon as you walk in the room.”

His concern snuffed out the afterglow. “I’m not ashamed of this. Are you?”

“I’m not ashamed of what I feel for you. I just don’t want anyone to think I took advantage of the situation.” He sighed and lowered his hands to his sides. “Which is hard, because I’m not sure I haven’t.”

“Taken advantage of me?”

“Yes.” He raked his hair with one hand and stared past her. “You’d just been through the worst experience of your life and I—”

“Gave me exactly what I needed and nothing more.” She touched his face and waited until his gaze returned to her. “I needed to feel safe while I regained control of my life, and my body. You made that possible in ways no one else could.”

He turned his head and kissed the center of her palm. “I doubt your family will see it that way.”

“Kyle can bite me. And Mom…Mom might take some time, but she’ll come around.”

“I’ve always thought the best way to face any problem was head-on.” He opened his arms and she stepped into his embrace. “Hold on tight. I need to make up some time for this little layover.”


Lay
over.” She jumped as he lifted her against him and she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Do I get frequent flyer miles?”

“Yes, but they’re only good on Ian airlines.” Their laughter floated in the crisp mountain air as he launched them back into the sky.

* * * * *

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Carly cried. Fear radiated off the human in waves and still she persisted with her denials. “I don’t know what Roberto told you, but there was no side project.”

Zophiel searched the human’s gaze, looking for a chink in her armor. She appeared bedraggled and tired, as if months of stress had finally taken their toll. Her common brown hair was echoed in her common brown eyes. She was average height and average build. So what had Osric seen in her? Zophiel had certainly seen nothing intriguing in the human. Carly had done nothing but whine since their arrival fifty minutes before. She’d screamed herself hoarse and struggled so hard Zophiel had been forced to render her unconscious mid-flight. Nehema had been waiting with a car several miles from the safe house and Zophiel had simply placed their captive in the backseat.

Now Carly was tied to a chair, which had been secured to a support post in the unfinished basement of Nehema’s modest suburban house. Hiding in plain sight had always served them well in the past and Zophiel saw no reason to change the strategy now. She’d lined the walls with layers of foam insulation to dampen conspicuous sounds, however. She was daring, not stupid.

“I have no interest in your body, so your usual tactics won’t work.” Zophiel kept her voice firm yet even, allowing no hint of emotion to seep through in her tone. “I want information and I will stop at nothing to get it. Your only choices are how much pain you’ll endure and how much damage you’ll sustain before you tell me everything I want to know.”

“I cannot tell you what I don’t know.”

A cruel smile spread across Zophiel’s lips. It had been ages since anyone was foolish enough to resist. This was going to be fun.

“Maybe she really doesn’t know.”

Zophiel turned her head sharply and glared at Nehema. She had never had the stomach for this sort of thing. “Go to bed. You don’t need to be here for this. It’s bound to give you nightmares.”

“But I can’t allow you to hurt her if she has no involvement in—”

“She’s their lead doctor. Don’t be a fool. She was involved in all of it.” Grabbing her sister by the arm, Zophiel dragged her toward the stairs leading out of the basement. “Go. To. Bed.”

Nehema hesitated another minute, then reluctantly climbed the stairs.

“Is she your mother or your, um, partner?” Shrewd curiosity gleamed in the human’s eyes, revealing a glimpse of her true self.

“She is no concern of yours.” Zophiel returned to her captive and walked in a slow circle, taking Carly in from every angle. “Tell me about the formula. I know it evolved over time. What was it first meant to do?”

“It’s all in my reports.” Carly stilled and what little color she had drained from her face. “Except the backers didn’t send you, did they?” She swallowed hard and watched Zophiel with new interest. “Who are you? You’re obviously Therian, but you’re not working with the cats. So… How did you know where to find me?” Her brows arched suddenly and she whispered, “Are you Nehema?”

Zophiel carefully guarded her reaction. Close, but no cigar. “Where did you hear that name?” The backers were ambitious and ruthless, but they had no reason to tell a human about their enemy. Further proof that Carly was more than just an employee.

Carly ignored her question and a triumphant light flashed within her dark eyes. “You are, aren’t you? Why do you hate the backers? Why did you blow up their supply convoy?”

Zophiel didn’t consider herself Therian, so she’d never been overly concerned with the backers’ twisted project. Nehema, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to avoid them. Her sister was obsessed with “saving” Therian females before their animal natures were defined. Nehema wouldn’t allow anyone or anything to stand in the way of her mission, but she lacked the savage instincts necessary to act upon her resolve.

Savagery was no problem for Zophiel. She loved her sister and even though she thought Nehema’s insistence on finding “reasonable” outlets for her brutal impulses was a waste of time, Zophiel fought most of Nehema’s battles for her. This latest conflict was the perfect example. Nehema had foolishly trusted General Milliner and his betrayal had left her fuming with impotent rage. Refusing to consider a more direct retaliation, Nehema had blown up the supply convoy. Now the backers were determined to find Nehema and permanently nullify the annoyance. Their renewed determination to kill her sister left Zophiel to set things right.

No one hurt Nehema without feeling the sting of Zophiel’s wrath.

“I’m asking the questions and you’re answering them. Now do not speak unless you’re providing information.” Stopping directly in front of Carly, Zophiel locked her hands behind her back. “Explain the difference between the formulas.”

“The test subjects refused to change forms, so we had to find a way to trigger and control their transformations. That was the purpose for the original formula.”

Transformation was as fundamental to Therians as breathing. Having someone else control when and if they were able to transform would be horrible, unthinkable. “Was the formula successful?”

“It took several tries, but yes. In the end we were able to trigger and reverse their transformations whenever we wanted.”

It took considerable effort not to reveal how appalling she found the concept. But Carly’s story had just begun, so Zophiel suppressed any hint of emotion. “Go on. What did the next formula do?”

“The generation two formula was supposed to make them more manageable, more susceptible to suggestions. That was the general’s primary interest. Their abilities meant nothing if he couldn’t control them.” Carly squirmed on the chair, tugging against the cords binding her arms and legs.

Her stubbornness amused Zophiel. There was no way the human could break free, so why did she keep trying? “And was generation two successful?”

The doctor sighed and stopped struggling. She’d either accepted her captivity or worn herself out. Zophiel wasn’t sure which. “It’s more complicated than yes or no. Some test subjects were extremely susceptible to suggestion while others were completely immune to gen two’s effects.”

“Were you able to determine why there was such a wide variation in results?”

“Why became less important as the main side effect pushed the entire project in a different direction.”

“Explain.”

“I’m cooperating.” Carly sat up as straight as her bonds allowed and looked into Zophiel’s eyes. “I will continue to cooperate, but I’d like to know who you are and why you kidnapped me.”

“Who I am is irrelevant and my purpose is self-evident. Now answer the question.”

“If I’m going to provide you with valuable information, I require—”

“You’re not in a position to require anything.” Without warning Zophiel transformed her fingernails into long, pointed claws. She swiped Carly’s face and left distinct crimson scratches across her fair skin. The human hadn’t so much as yelped, but she trembled with her silent sobs. “I suspect pain doesn’t intimidate you, but you’re a vain little thing. If you hesitate again, I’ll remove your nose then lay open the crest of each cheek. Are these secrets really worth permanent disfigurement?”

“Gen two triggered sexual frenzy in almost every test subject.” Carly’s voice was flat and mechanical, but she’d provided the answer without hesitation. “We realized the frenzy itself could be used to control the subjects, so the mind control aspect became less important. I refined the serum and carefully monitored the test subjects who were most responsive to the new formula. An unexpected pattern emerged.”

“Stop being coy. I bore easily.”

BOOK: Therian Prisoner: 3 (Therian Heat)
2.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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