Chapter 7
Soleil
“This is . . . mine?” A pinch strained the back of my neck, and I took a step back on the concrete slab he called a driveway.
“Mhm,” he breathed against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine and heat to my belly.
I rolled my shoulders and refocused. He turned me on so easily.
A house, just like in that show I watched on the flight, but this one was much larger.
It loomed into the sky and sprawled to both sides.
He carried a bag holding everything that had been purchased in one arm and with the other nudged me forward until I had to continue toward a big door.
I didn’t hesitate, strutting inside to take in my new territory. My home. I stepped onto a slab that was even nicer than the concrete outside. Thin dark lines cut through it, creating an odd design in the floor. Humans with their odd preferences . . .
In watching the episodes, I’d managed to learn about how humans lived .
. . or at least the ones deemed to be normal.
The slim path opened to a larger section and cut to the right and also continued leading forward.
I took the right into a spacious area where a plush piece of furniture sat in front of a black reflective surface.
A smell like lemons filled the air, and I sniffed, liking the lack of human scents.
The only scent I was getting was Mate . . . and—I stiffened.
“Griffin—”
I whipped toward the sound of approach and lunged at a female human stepping out of a doorway. Slamming into her, I wrapped my hands around her neck.
This woman was in my territory? Was this Ann?
My momentum dropped us to the ground, and I landed on her, straddling her stomach. Her wide eyes gawked up at me. I hissed and squeezed harder as I balanced to hold on to her while she bucked to get me off—not succeeding.
“Sol!” Mate’s bellow made me even angrier, then he lifted me off her while I thrashed. She rolled onto her side, dry heaving. “Stop,” he growled against my ear, binding his arm around my chest to pin me to him.
“Let me go,” I hissed. Even though he’d ordered me not to shift, I didn’t care. Griffin grabbed the back of my head and forced me to look at him. He breathed hard, nose flaring. “Stop, kitten. Breathe.”
I bared my teeth, and he leaned down to claim my lips.
The sudden touch fanned my lust. Claim him.
Mine. Mate. I hiked my legs around his waist and ground down on his member, while both my arms stretched behind his head, keeping him fastened to my mouth.
His hands settled on my bottom, and he groaned, no longer trying to pull me off him.
I nibbled down his neck, writhing like mad, making the hard cock under my sex throb.
“Tali, go,” Mate snapped, holding onto my waist.
Footsteps thudded past us, and I lifted my head, reaching out to grab the woman, but he kept hold of me.
I hissed and shoved, trying to get free to go after her.
He turned and pinned me against the wall, capturing my mouth in the same movement.
He grazed down the front of the pants he bought me, and he ripped the latch off, then tore down until cool air wafted against my needy sex.
He unleashed his length and slid into me with a violent thrust, banging my back against the wall aggressively.
I cried out, repetitive mewls spilling from me until all I could focus on was the glide of his thick shaft inside me.
His moans and grunts flared my lust to a pinnacle.
An orgasm squeezed my channel, making me clamp down on him while my cries spilled free.
I floated, my body tingling with sheer pleasure. Moaning, I sank my teeth into his shoulder, puncturing the fabric of his shirt.
He moaned and seed spurted free, drenching me with warmth.
“Fuck,” he hissed, mouth rubbing against my ear.
I leaned my head back until it rested on the wall. My hands went limp and slid down the muscles of his biceps. I watched his flexing expression until he lifted his half-closed eyes to mine. His body moved with hard exhales as he struggled to catch his breath.
“You said the house was mine.” The words slipped free, and my throat became immediately tight. It took effort to clear it.
He lifted a hand and clasped the side of my neck. He curled lower so his forehead touched mine.
“It is, kitten,” he murmured. “Tali is my sister. She was here just to make sure it was perfect for you.”
Tali . . . not the other name. Sister . . . In the show, it meant kin.
“Oh,” I breathed, the pressure on my chest loosening.
She wasn’t the name he said when I touched him. I unhooked my feet from around his waist, then pulled off with a gush of slick and seed dripping down my thighs. That question returned with a flurry.
“Who is Ann?” I cocked my head. I kept my focus on the pulse at the side of his neck. It immediately picked up pace. Narrowing my eyes, I bristled. “I heard you say her name as I claimed you.”
A wave of anger slid through me, and I clenched my hands. My throat constricted as if there was something stuck in it. I couldn’t breathe. I gripped my neck to feel for a wound, blood, anything to give reason to this sensation.
Griffin approached, and I retreated to avoid him.
Everything felt like too much, and having him touch me would make me explode.
His mouth turned into a thin line, and he came at me again.
Panic pushed a gasp out of my throat, but he didn’t care about my lack of ability to breathe. He kept coming toward me.
I lashed out, shoving him back so hard he stumbled. Gasping, I lifted my hands, then looked up at him.
“Did I hurt you?” I asked, and I couldn’t recognize the tone of my voice.
“No—”
That was all I needed.
“Kitten,” he murmured.
I was done speaking about it. I shifted, pushing forward my panther form until I landed on all fours, shaking my pelt until the shredded clothes fell off me.
***
I sat on the couch, in the middle of a thick blanket, in my panther form, riveted by the drama happening across the screen.
All while I avoided my mate. Eventually, Griffin understood I wasn’t in the mood.
Whenever he neared, I bared my teeth every single time.
He didn’t push me, but also didn’t leave.
Then he turned on the television.
The little box changed my life. It was the same show I’d been watching on the plane, and it was here for me to watch. The sun had fallen already, but I couldn’t stop.
Griffin sat at the end of the couch, leaving distance between us—per my doing. He’d tried to get close, but with a hiss from me, he was retreating again.
I was riveted to the device that was giving me answers. So many answers. One of them was the explanation for my behavior. What I was feeling was jealousy. The crippling sensation spread through my throat and chest as if they were being squeezed.
Such an odd human emotion.
And it was rampant. Emotions were everywhere, all over the place, up, down, sad, angry. It was overwhelming. The jungle was about surviving, about hunting, feeding, sleeping, not this emotion.
“Are you hungry?” he murmured. Without an answer from me, he stood and left. I swiveled my ear as his steps retreated. As angry as I was, his presence soothed me, so I was happy he hadn’t left . . . Now that he had, I fought the urge to follow.
Clashes and clangs echoed from the direction he had disappeared to.
If I went to him now . . . the swelling in my throat started up again. No, I would stay put and watch my show.
It didn’t take me long to perk up at the aroma that reached me mid-episode. I sniffed, and my stomach clenched with hunger.
I would not!
Footsteps neared again, and I swung my head back to the television as if I hadn’t been sniffing the air to breathe in more of the delicious scent.
“Are you hungry?” His question went unanswered. “I made you a sirloin.”
I didn’t know what that was, but the smell beat against my resolve.
He sighed and placed it on the surface in front of me.
I eyed the sliced cubes, then him. The aroma coming from it was nice.
Feeding wouldn’t harm me. It didn’t mean I would speak to him.
Shifting, I settled on the couch and reached forward, plucking one of the slices to pop it into my mouth.
Savory taste exploded on my tongue. I moaned and ate another. Griffin left again, but he was back soon. I might have to break my silence to ask for more.
“Put this on,” he murmured gruffly, placing the cloth beside me, and returned to his spot. He leaned back and cleared his throat.
As I ate, he kept moving until I peeked over at him pulling at the front of his pants, his face red again.
Humans were strange.