Michel/Striker (7 page)

“Can we begin again, Chelsea?” he entreated, taking time to pleasure her other nipple before he trailed tiny kisses in the valley between her breasts.

She hesitated, still hurting from his cutting suspicion, before she heaved a soft sigh.

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” she whispered.

His lips skimmed over the soft swell of her belly. “Thank you,” he rasped, relief flooding through him.

He didn’t know where this was going, but he knew he couldn’t bear to live with the knowledge he’d irrevocably damaged the possibilities that hovered between them.

Continuing to head toward her sweet spot, Michel was caught off guard when his lips brushed the tiny diamond that pierced her belly button.

So, his starchy doctor had a whimsical side. His cat stroked against the inside of his skin, pleased with the sparkling bit of jewelry. Maybe together they could learn to enjoy the present without allowing the past to cast shadows.

Rubbing his nose against her satin skin, he teased the tiny diamond with the tip of his tongue.

She squirmed in delight. “That tickles,” she breathed.

He smiled with satisfaction. “I’ll be back to play with that later,” he promised.

For now he had other treasures to discover.

“When do I get to play?”

The sweet aroma of her arousal filled the air, luring him ever downward.

“Later,” he husked. “Much, much later.”

“Not fair,” she muttered, but her legs readily parted to allow him to settle between them.

Sliding his arms under her thighs, he effectively pinned her to the mattress as he spread her wide enough to give him a perfect view of her luscious pussy.

Yes.
He gave a throaty sigh, leaning forward to lap through her rich cream.

Decadent pleasure shuddered through him.

This female was everything he’d ever wanted.

Strong, intelligent, capable of compassion and dedicated to helping those she’d hurt in the past.

And sexy as hell.

Continuing to run his tongue over her swollen clit, he savored the taste of autumn spice that made his cat shudder with pleasure. His tongue dipped into her body, surging in and out until she was panting with need.

“Michel, please,” she pleaded in thick tones.

With one last lingering taste, he slid up her body, hissing at the electricity that sparked between their bare skin. Who knew that friction was such a wonderful thing?

Lost in the sensations, he was unprepared when she pushed against his chest, giving herself enough room to maneuver beneath him.

“My turn,” she warned, giving his nipple a rough lick.

Michel instinctively planted his hands on the mattress so he could crouch above her, giving her full access.

Chelsea was swift to take advantage, using the tip of her tongue to trace his puma tattoo before she was kissing her way down the rigid muscles of his stomach. It seemed to take an eternity before she at last reached his straining erection. He gasped as she licked the tip, then softly blew across the damp flesh.

Holy…crap.

His fingers dug into the mattress, his head thrown as she took his cock deeper, using her tongue to tease the aching length.

Michel’s hips surged forward, his cat purring as she slowly pulled her lips up the quivering length, her fingers reaching to squeeze his heavy testicles.

“Wait.” He forced himself to pull out, so close to his climax he could barely breathe. “I want to be buried deep inside you when I come.”

Reaching down, he wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her up the mattress, arranging her beneath him. Then, gazing down, he hesitated as he felt a strange tightness in his chest.

How long had it been since he’d felt such an intense desire for a female?

Never
, his cat whispered. Only Chelsea had managed to shatter his fierce barriers to stir his deepest passions.

Slowly lowering his hips, he allowed his cock to settle against the warm dampness between her legs. Her hands lifted, grasping his shoulders as he dipped his head to scatter restless kisses over her face. Then, almost as if she knew instinctively what he needed, she turned her head to the side. It was an invitation Michel couldn’t resist.

With a growl, he sank his teeth into the tender curve of neck where it met her shoulder. He felt her shudder as she arched her hips to rub against his hard erection.

There was no need to ask if she was ready.

He could smell her need.

The same need that was twisting his gut into a tight knot.

With gentle care he penetrated her damp channel, waiting for her to wrap her legs around his hips before he plunged deep, savoring the sensation of her hot pussy clenched tight around his cock.

Oh…hell.

She wrapped around him like a glove. So perfect.

Struggling to keep a slow, steady pace, Michel pulled back until the tip of his cock was nearly at her entrance. Then, with a hiss of pleasure, he slammed his way back home.

Chelsea scored her nails down his back, gripping his ass in silent encouragement.

Michel groaned. How had he ever been idiotic enough to try and keep this female at a distance?

Refusing to dwell on how easily he might have denied himself this overwhelming pleasure, he lifted his head to study her beautiful face. Holding her darkened gaze he quickened his thrusts.

Smug contentment surged through him as he watched her cheeks flush, her body tensing before she was quivering beneath the force of her orgasm.

He was the one who’d made her tremble. Who’d held her as she convulsed around his cock.

Briefly wondering how she was going to react when she discovered that he was the only male who was going to be sharing her bed from now on, he shoved aside the worry for later. Right now, all that mattered was the pressure that was swelling to a critical peak.

Wrapping his arms around her slender body, he buried his face in the curve of her throat as he pumped into her at a savage pace. All too swiftly, he was reaching a shattering climax, his body shaking as his cat roared in fierce ecstasy.

***

Locke had a firm rule.

No one was allowed to interrupt him while he enjoyed a traditional English breakfast alone in his office. It was the one time during the day he could eat a meal and read his favorite newspapers in peace.

Unfortunately, over the past several months his peace was more and more difficult to achieve.

And this morning was no exception.

He’d just poured his tea when he heard the sound of running footsteps that echoed down the hallway.

“Now what?” he muttered, folding his paper and rising to his feet as his door was shoved open to reveal one of his more experienced researchers. “Mason, explain to me why my breakfast has been disturbed yet again,” he growled, even as he took in the man’s disheveled blond hair and the flush on his round cheeks.

Crossing toward Locke’s desk, Mason made a belated attempt to smooth his white lab jacket and catch his breath.

“An hour ago two men who claimed to work for Cole Security arrived and demanded to take one of the Pantera females to the Colonel.”

Locke hissed, his stomach twisted with disgust. Over the years he’d turned a blind eye to the men who’d used the caged women as their sexual slaves. Either because they wanted to try and impregnate them, or because they were just horny.

This morning, however, he found himself trembling with anger.

“Which one?”

Mason grimaced. “Terri,” he said, referring to one of the most vulnerable of the females.

“I assume you tried to stop them?” he snapped.

“Of course.” The middle-aged man lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow. The past few weeks had been stressful on all of them. “I warned the men that they had to have your approval to transport any of the patients. They seemed to believe the Colonel’s commands overrode any order you’d given.”

Locke’s anger darkened to fury.

This was more than just a man wanting to force himself on a woman. This was a blatant power play designed to undermine Locke’s position as leader.

“I see,” he said between clenched teeth.

“When they refused to listen, I begged them to let me sedate the female,” Mason admitted, his voice shaking.

Locke stared at the man in shock. “They tried to take her without giving her the necessary drugs?”

“Yes.”

“Bloody hell,” he muttered. Why did the idiots think they kept the Pantera in cages? “What happened?”

The researcher shuddered. “Exactly what you would expect. As soon as the female was released she went wild.” He made another effort to wipe his sweaty brow. “And worse, the other patients began to shout out threats. It caused the men to panic.”

God. Damn.

Although Locke hadn’t been there, he could easily imagine the chaos that had erupted the minute the female had been released. The cages were lined with malachite that drained the Pantera of their power, but it didn’t entirely incapacitate them.

Which was why they usually kept the patients sedated.

Since the move, however, Locke had dialed back on the drugs, needing their adrenaline levels to return to normal before he could resume taking their blood.

He muttered a curse. “Give me the damage report.”

Mason cleared his throat. “They shot the female.”

“Dead?”

“Unfortunately.”

Locke clenched his hands. It was more than unfortunate. They’d lost over half of the Pantera they’d captured and created during the past three months. And worse, the Pantera now knew they were being hunted. It would be a thousand times more difficult to get their hands on the animals.

Imagining the sheer pleasure of wrapping his fingers around Colonel Cole’s thick neck, Locke slowly realized that Mason wasn’t finished with the bad-news train.

“There’s more?” he demanded.

Mason grimly nodded his head. “One of the Colonel’s men backed too close to the cages.”

Locke squeezed his eyes shut. Okay. Now it was an official clusterfuck.

“Another corpse?” he forced himself to ask.

“No, but his neck is broken,” Mason said. “We sent him to the base hospital, but even if he survives I doubt he’ll walk again.”

Locke opened his eyes. As much as he wanted to toss the researcher out the door and finish his breakfast in peace, he knew he had to deal with the mess before it spiraled out of control.

“What about the second intruder?”

Mason’s expression abruptly hardened. “He fired off several shots that wounded two of our guards before he ran out of the lab.” The man’s voice revealed his opinion of the intruder. “I assume he was returning to Cole, although there’s the hope he’ll get lost in the swamp and be eaten by a gator.”

Locke allowed a humorless smile to curve his lips. He’d originally shuddered at the thick wetlands that surrounded the edge of the base. He hated the moisture that clung to the air and the scent of rotting vegetation. Not to mention the hideous cloud of insects. But he had to admit it did have a few benefits.

On the point of commanding his guards to go in search of the man, Locke stiffened as his computer made a distinctive ding.

He didn’t have to guess who was trying to contact him.

“Clean up this mess and see that the patients are sedated until things settle down,” he ordered Mason, waiting until the man had left the office and closed the door before he sat back in his chair and clicked the mouse to open the connection.

Instantly a male with short auburn hair, a thin face, and eyes so pale they looked silver appeared on the monitor.

Christopher Benson Segal. The man who Locke called master.

He’d clearly fed recently on Pantera blood, Locke absently noted, giving the impression he was in his early forties. Locke didn’t know his true age, but he suspected it was well over a century.

“Master,” he murmured, giving a respectful nod of his head.

As usual, Christopher came straight to the point. “I heard from our Colonel Cole that there was trouble this morning.”

Locke leaned forward, not bothering to disguise his annoyance. “He sent two goons into the facility and tried to take one of the females.”

Christopher shrugged. “With the money he’s paying us, he can take any animal he wants.”

“But—”

The older man overrode his protest. “Stanton, you know you’re like a son to me.”

Was he? Locke had always thought so, but lately he was beginning to wonder if he’d imagined an affection that had been the basis of his loyalty toward this man.

After all, it wasn’t as if he’d ever had anyone truly care about him. Not even his drunken mother. So how would he know if Christopher’s seeming fondness was genuine or not?

“Yes, master,” he murmured.

“Unfortunately, I no longer feel as if I can trust you to work with our newest partners,” Christopher continued in smooth tones edged with regret. “Perhaps it would be better if you returned to our headquarters in New York.”

Locke sucked in a shocked breath. “All the labs in New York have been closed.”

“This will give you to opportunity to clear your head and recall just who rescued you from the gutters of London,” Christopher soothed, before offering the final insult. “The Colonel and his men are on their way.”

Locke reached to shut off the monitor, feeling…nothing.

It was as if his master’s betrayal had stripped him of all emotion. Or perhaps the emotions he’d felt had always been an illusion.

Maybe he’d never stopped being that desperate boy living in the gutters who was willing to sacrifice everything and everyone to survive.

Slowly rising to his feet, he headed out of his office.

CHAPTER 5