Chapter 24 #2
I need him to go there, to turn his back so I can escape. My time is running out, I need to get back to the cabin and transform.
"Thank you," he takes a step towards the house, but stops and looks back at me. "I know who you are..."
Heavens, I've been found out!
He'll think I tried to deceive him out of malice, that I'm a threat!
I start to sweat cold, my smile trembles, my eyelids flutter.
This time I really think I'm going to faint...
"I can explain..." I begin to stammer, but he interrupts me.
"From Pandemonium, right?" He bites his lower lip, and for a moment, the gesture is so sexy that I am distracted by it, even on the verge of an imminent heart attack. "Sandra, is that your name?"
Wait...
He's referring to my job. My old job.
And he... remembers my name.
I gasp, my chest vibrating like a parade in the middle of carnival, each heartbeat echoing in unbridled euphoria. The illusion that one day we could talk, that we could be more... seemed like a distant, unattainable daydream.
But now, it's no longer a dream.
It's real.
"Y-yes! It's me, but I don't work there anymore. And you're the hothead, right?" I slip up, because when I get nervous I talk nonsense.
Stars in the sky, why am I like this?
To my surprise, he blushes.
Or he's so angry at my audacity that his blood is boiling, proving that his nickname is not for nothing.
"My name is Mark..."
I want to say I know, but suddenly, I feel a painful tug in my chest and a cold shiver running up my spine.
I writhe in pain and gasp for air, trying to maintain control. However, I know I won't be able to hold on for long.
"I have to go, I'm late!" I blurt out and run down the pavement, leaving a confused Mark behind.
Deep down, I really wanted to tell him the whole truth, but even if I weren't so cowardly and selfish, wanting to continue enjoying the comfort of being by his side, spoiled by his care, I know I don't have enough time right now.
Maybe another time, when I have more control and some time just for us, I'll be able to open up to him.
Mark deserves to know the truth, and who knows, might help me.
But I can't risk changing in the middle of the conversation and making him see me as a threat.
I can't risk him abandoning me, believing that I've been lying all this time.
As I run along the pavement, I know I won't make it to the cabin in time, and that makes me desperate.
I spot a house with tall bushes. If I hide there, my clothes will be camouflaged and I'll be able to sneak around like a cat, finding Mark along the way. I throw myself into the bushes, scratching myself all over, and in the next second, my body transforms mercilessly.
The pile of clothes swallows me, and I have to wriggle through the fabric to free myself. Then I dash off, jumping over the fences that divide the houses, just in time to see Mark coming out of the yard where I saw the cat go in, looking for me.
I go up to him, putting on my best innocent look.
"Kitten..." He murmurs, picking me up and staring into my eyes, that sexy frown marking his forehead. "What do I do with you?"
I meow and touch his face with a paw. He blinks once and then smiles.
"Since you came into my life, my heart has never been the same, you know? You test its limits."
I meow again, feeling my own heart being tested by his words.
It misses a beat. It skips a beat. It speeds up.
"There's no escape, I've decided I'm going to keep you all to myself." He tilts his face and kisses my head, the touch affectionate. "You testing the limits of my heart is something I'm going to have to get used to."
Mark crosses the street with me in his arms, opens the car door with one hand and settles me into the pet basket before starting the engine.
A comfortable silence settles in, only the sound of the engine filling the space as he drives the few metres to the cabin.
I'm looking at his face in the rear-view mirror, completely dazed, still in a trance from everything he said. I think I'm in shock. I need to remind myself that he was talking about Kitten, not me, Sandra.
"Sandra..." My heart skips a beat the moment he says my name. His voice is low, soft, but it hits me like lightning, running through every nerve in my body. "Whenever I'm near her, I forget how to breathe... Her beauty takes my breath away."
My shock is so great that I am left speechless.
He thinks I'm beautiful.
I see his reflection in the mirror. A blush takes over his cheeks, rising in a warm gradient. For a brief second, his eyes meet mine, and my heart falters.
I need to remind myself, once again, that I am now a cat. To him, I am just an animal, a harmless observer. That is why he opens up so easily, without reservation. Little does he know that the cat and the woman are the same person, and that his every word affects me more than it should.
I meow softly, wanting him to continue, to say more.
He looks away to the street, clenching his fingers around the steering wheel.
"Will I see her again?" Mark sighs, and unless I'm imagining things, there's a note of longing in his voice.
My heart screams yes.
Yes, Mark, you will see me again!
If it were up to me, I would never disappear.
But all I can do is meow, unable to tell the truth.
And then we reach the gate to the cottage, he types in the access code and enters.
When he turns off the engine, he opens the door and holds me carefully as he gets out.
His warmth dissipates a little when the cool afternoon breeze envelops us, but he keeps me close to his chest, sheltered.
He walks to the cottage with steady steps, his strong arms around me.
His scent surrounds me, woody and masculine, and for a moment I feel protected from everything.
As if nothing could touch me while I am with him.
If I could, I would stay here forever.
In another reality, it would be me, Sandra the woman, in his arms, returning to our home...
He unlocks the front door and enters, his eyes scanning the room, checking the screened windows to make sure they are still secure.
"How did you get out, huh?" he says quietly, glancing at me quickly, and I swear I see a flash of amusement in his eyes.
Mark walks through the living room and then, as he passes the kitchen, he stops in his tracks, his attention drawn to the back door I left open.
He approaches it with a frown.
"Strange..." he murmurs. "I don't remember leaving that door open."
My breath catches and my body shrinks into his arms.
Damn it!
He's going to suspect me.
He'll realise something's wrong.
He's going to...
Mark hesitates for a second, then looks at me and lets out a low laugh.
"You found a way to open it, didn't you?" He kisses me on the top of my head. "You little troublemaker..."
His laugh melts any tension inside me.
He doesn't suspect a thing.
He didn't even notice the key missing from the kitchen key ring. As soon as he leaves for work, I need to put it back.
I just stare at him, blinking slowly, trying to look innocent.
He puts me down and stretches, relaxing his broad shoulders.
"I came because I sensed your fear, and the tracking on your collar led me to a certain point on the street, but I lost the signal as soon as you were out of danger." His voice is casual, without suspicion. "I'm glad to know that nothing bad happened to you."
He crouches down and strokes me under the chin.
I close my eyes and start purring. I'm so unaccustomed to such affection and pampering.
I'll really cry if this all ends.
When it's over...
One day I'll have to reveal myself, and that day needs to be soon, I can't live like this forever. I need him to help me find the witch to break this curse once and for all.
"I just want you to be safe, Kitten."
I hope he continues to feel this way afterwards...
Mark gets up, but he doesn't leave. Instead, he decides to work from home for the rest of the afternoon.
My plan has gone down the drain.
I'll have to wait until tomorrow to cover my tracks, put the key back in its place, and retrieve the clothes I left in the bushes.
Eventually, Mark stretches, gets up, and heads upstairs.
I follow him, my paws gliding silently across the wooden floor.
When we reach the bedroom, I jump onto the bed and he stands beside it, removing his T-shirt in one fluid motion.
The garment falls to the floor, and I fight the urge to purr like a cat in heat.
Then he glances quickly in my direction, and without thinking, I hold my breath, motionless.
My body tenses up, every muscle tense, anxious.
Mark usually takes a change of clothes to the bathroom and changes there, but tonight he does something different. He is undressing in the bedroom, right in front of me, unaware that behind the cat there is a woman eager for a glimpse of what lies beneath those trousers...
His gaze, casual, without suspicion, moves on, as if I were a harmless presence. He continues to undress, unhurried, the zip of his jeans sliding slowly, almost cruelly, as if he wanted to make me yearn more with every passing second.
My curiosity keeps me rooted to the spot, unable to look away.
Even though I know I should walk away, that what I'm doing is risky, wrong, my body won't obey.
My eyes devour him, absorbing every detail with the hunger of a predator.
He moves with a confidence that makes my stomach tighten, his muscular, defined hands sliding the zip down inch by inch, the gesture laden with a natural seduction that is impossible to ignore.
It's just a body, I try to convince myself, with painful effort.
Just a ridiculously sculpted body, but still, just a body.
He continues, the jeans sliding slowly down his long, powerful legs, muscles tense with every movement. When he steps out of his trousers, left only in his underwear, I feel a knot tighten in my chest.
The sight of his body, so perfect, so imposing, leaves me breathless.
My gaze remains fixed, riveted on every detail, as if I were hypnotised.
It's the greatest test of self-control of my life. I should look away, leave, avoid further torture, but... I can't.
And then, as if to tease me, he takes off his underwear too.
My nails dig into the bed sheet as I struggle not to make a sound.
He is the most stunning man I have ever seen.
Every inch of him seems sculpted to perfection.
Tall, broad shoulders tapering to narrow hips, long, powerful legs.
His sun-kissed skin is stretched over muscles that move with mesmerising grace.
His eyes, golden and framed by thick lashes, carry an intensity that takes my breath away.
His short, blond hair, sensually tousled, only intensifies his raw, irresistible charm.
And he is completely naked.
When he turns around, my eyes drift down to his long, heavy member that swings with his movement, only to disappear behind the curve of his perfect bum.
By the stars...
He is huge. In every possible way.
A wave of wild desire washes over my body. My hair stands on end, my feline gaze sharpens, and I can't contain a small purr that vibrates in my throat.
He moves with a grace that only someone so sure of himself could have, walking to the bathroom without any embarrassment, without even looking back, oblivious to my perversion. Showing off his perfect, firm, round bum, each step emphasising his defined muscles, sculpted as if by divine hands.
A part of me, the wild part, the part that is beyond control, has an insane desire to mark that body, to leave my marks, teeth and nails, on his skin.
The other part, the part that tries to maintain a minimum of reason, reminds me that he has no idea who I really am.
It reminds me that I am cursed, that I am just a cat.
The water begins to run, and the sound of the shower fills the space, like music calling me. He left the door open, not knowing that for me it is an invitation, a provocation.
Before I realise it, my paws move silently, instinctively, to the bathroom door. I peek from afar, lost between deep fascination and frustration, unable to do anything but watch.
The steam dances in the air, covering the bathroom with a hot, thick mist that ripples under the yellow light.
I am petrified, standing on the threshold, but the rest of me... the rest of me is on the verge of madness, wavering between sanity and desire. The urge to transform myself and go to him is an irresistible temptation, but it is impossible, in so many ways...
Mark is under the shower, the water running in lazy streams down his sculpted body. I swallow hard when he tilts his head back, the golden strands of his hair darkening under the warm cascade. His eyelids flutter, his lips parted in a silent sigh of pleasure.
My chest rises and falls in an uneven rhythm, and I can't look away as his hand slowly slides down his defined abdomen, tracing the path the water runs. My eyes widen as his cock stiffens, throbbing and doubling in size, his hand about to touch it.
Then he does.
His hand wraps around his own hardness, and a hoarse sigh escapes his mouth. My heart stops, then races almost painfully. He leans against the tiled wall, the muscles in his arm and back tensing. His hips move in a lazy rhythm, as if savouring every moment, every stimulus he provokes himself.
The sound of the falling water is muffled by the sound he makes — a low, hoarse moan, laden with need. My name.
“Sandra...”
It's a broken sound, full of desire, as if he's on the edge of the abyss. My body trembles and I struggle to keep a loud purr from escaping me. He's lost in pleasure, lost in the image of me, the female version, in his mind.
The way his fingers squeeze, the way his body leans forward slightly, the way he gasps my name again and again — it all hits me like a bolt of lightning, incinerating any sense of rationality I might still have.
My claws dig into the floor. My chest rises and falls, my fur bristling and my skin throbbing with unbearable heat.
I should leave. This is very wrong.
But I can't.
His thrusts grow faster, each movement more eager and urgent, the wet sounds reverberating in the space.
He lets out a deep roar, the sound primal and wild, his muscles contracting as his free hand punches the wall with force.
Even from a distance, I can feel the explosion of energy as he reaches climax, his pleasure marking the tile in powerful jets, an expression of pure surrender on his face, my name escaping his lips in a hoarse moan.
I stand there, on the threshold, watching the man who, without even realising it, already completely possesses the woman he desires.