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.Thatquestion 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 thetelevision.
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 Icouldn’tstop.
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 oddhumanemotion.
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 thisemotion.
“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.
