Nischal [leopard spots 9] (7 page)

“My name is Nischal. You have met me before.”

Okay, that got his attention. Preston wiggled and pushed at the man—at Nischal. “Let go of me! You’re out of your fucking mind. I’ve never met you before.” He’d have remembered someone as handsome as Nischal. And he’d have tried his best to seduce him. “There must be something crazy-making in this town.”

Nischal arched one thick black eyebrow then quickly brought it down as he frowned. “But Kapuk said—and I thought that you and I were—”

Preston frowned too, especially when he realised he’d quit struggling. He was just lying there with a stranger. “I’m hallucinating, right? I’m still back in the clinic and I’ve had some kind of allergic reaction to either the tranquiliser or something else they gave me after, and I’m in a coma with tubes and shit keeping me alive and—mmph—”

In his babble-fest, Preston’s vision had gone hazy as he pictured what he was describing, seeing himself clearly as a poor victim barely hanging on. Then his lips were crushed beneath Nischal’s. Preston’s eyes crossed and he closed them.
If this is a hallucination, fuck it.
He locked his arms around Nischal’s neck and moaned as he twined his tongue with Nischal’s.

Nischal growled into his mouth and Preston whimpered as goose bumps pebbled his skin. He undulated beneath Nischal and finally wound his legs around Nischal’s narrow waist. Nischal’s sharp hip bones would probably leave bruises on Preston’s thighs, and the idea of that delighted him and made him hornier.

Scorching desire built rapidly in him. Preston had never wanted anyone like he wanted Nischal. It was unreal, and so he decided to go with it being a hallucination. The relief he felt was almost overwhelming. He wasn’t crazy, he was just comatose and having the best sex of his life.
Figures.
Sex couldn’t be so good in reality anyway.

Nischal bit his bottom lip and Preston mewled—he felt no need to hold himself back, to keep from trying not to sound like a needy slut. He’d had lovers who didn’t like a noisy partner, who only wanted ‘manly’ sounds like grunting and cursing, and he’d had lovers who liked him to be as noisy as he wanted. He’d still always held back, but now he didn’t need to.

He rocked up and dragged his cock alongside of Nischal’s. Nischal growled again—God, Preston really liked that sound!—and he fisted his hands in Preston’s hair.

“Mine, all mine, only mine.”

Preston heard it in his head, only it was said in Nischal’s voice. If he hadn’t thought he was hallucinating before, that would have convinced him. There was no such thing as telepathy, and that, well, it had to be ESP or whatever. No one heard anyone else in their head, not unless they were schizophrenic or something like that. Preston had done miserably in his psych class, but he knew hearing voices in one’s head was a sign of a psychiatric disorder.

Nischal raised his head and stopped thrusting against him. Preston whined then opened his eyes when Nischal didn’t resume trying to hump him through the mattress. He blinked at the fierce glare Nischal was giving him. “What kind of fucked-up hallucination is this? I can’t even get laid properly—”

Nischal tightened the hold on Preston’s hair and Preston hissed at the slight pain. Nischal narrowed his eyes even more. “This. Is. Not. A. Hallucination.” Nischal kissed him, a nearly brutal, claiming kiss that left Preston’s head kind of spinny. “This is real.” Nischal kissed him again. “And this.” He thrust and the tip of his cock rubbed the underside of Preston’s just perfectly.

Preston gulped and struggled to keep his eyes open. He had the odd thought that if he closed his eyes he’d be disappointing Nischal somehow. Why that would even matter was beyond him.

“Because you’re mine,” Nischal said in a low, gruff voice. “I want to see everything you feel.”

“This isn’t real,” Preston argued, desperate to get on with the sex, desperate to not be crazy. “It isn’t, it can’t be.”

Nischal took one of Preston’s hands and dragged it down between them. Nischal raised up enough that Preston was soon holding onto Nischal’s shaft. “This is real,” Nischal said. “And this.” He yanked Preston’s hand up and pressed it to his chest. Preston could feel the steady, rapid beat of Nischal’s heart beneath his palm. “This, Preston. This is
real.
It is me, living, breathing, my heart beating. Me, free for the first time in years, me being able to be a man not a leopard for the first time in years. Me, with my mate…”

“No, I—” Preston began shivering so hard his teeth clacked together. The sudden clarity of the situation was undeniable to him. In that instant, he knew every word Nischal said was true.

“I am here, touching you,” Nischal said in a gentle yet firm voice, leaving no room for doubt. “I have touched you, tasted you. I want you. You are mine, and I am yours. Kapuk wasn’t as crazy as I thought he was.”

Preston had no fucking idea what that kaput
shit was all about. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the other thing Nischal had said—the part about being a leopard.

“You’re a man,” Preston forcefully stated. “A
man.
I don’t know what the hell you mean, talking about kaput and mates. I don’t know why you keep saying I’m yours—”

“And I, in turn, am yours,” Nischal interrupted.

Preston scowled at him. “Don’t you understand how abnormal that is? We don’t even know each other. Are you some kind of stalker?” Jesus, had Nischal been following him while he followed Suraj?

Before fear could sink in, Nischal kissed him again, a long, lingering kiss that stirred up every sexual need Preston had. His body was a traitor, that was all there was to it. He should be screaming and fighting, his mind knew it, but his body wanted to feel Nischal pounding away at his ass, filling him with cum.

Preston did begin pushing at Nischal with that last thought. “Get off, get off of me!” He’d never let some random guy bareback him. Ever. Preston didn’t have a death wish, for fuck’s sake!

Nischal gripped Preston’s wrists and yanked his arms up above his head. That Nischal could hold his wrists, pin them with one hand, was intimidating and the strength Nischal exhibited certainly didn’t match up with the too-thin build of the man.

“How can you do that?” Preston asked, focusing on the one thing that didn’t completely freak him out. If he thought of his hard dick, his clenching ass, the wantonness he felt for Nischal, the desire and the things Nischal had said, he might just lose his shit.

Nischal raised his head just enough that his features weren’t blurry as he looked down at Preston. “I told you. I’m a leopard, and a man. A shifter. My strength is greater than a human’s, as are my senses like sight and smell. And taste.” He dipped down and licked over Preston’s lips. “I saw you with Suraj. I couldn’t let him kill you. For the first time in years, I found the strength to try to get free, and I did. Me, and Sabin, my brother. When Yangani hit you with that tranquiliser, I wanted to rip her to shreds.”

Preston gulped and tugged against Nischal’s grip on his wrists. “No. Shifters aren’t real. You’ve seen those
Twilight
movies too often or something.” But Nischal knew things that he shouldn’t have unless he’d been there. “You’re one of the SWAT guys, aren’t you?” Preston said with a large amount of relief. “That’s how you know what you do. Are y’all spying on me or something?”

Nischal stared at him so intently, Preston was certain the man saw right into his thoughts. Preston squirmed, not so much because he was trying to free himself still as because he was feeling uncomfortably exposed.

“Give me your word you will not scream,” Nischal finally said.

Preston almost snorted despite the way his heart was jackhammering with something that wasn’t quite fear. If it was more along the lines of anticipation, he refused to admit it. “Have I done that yet?” He should have, and yet he’d been relatively quiet, all things considered.

“No, but I want to hear you swear it.”

With Nischal staring so piercingly, Preston could only do one thing. “I swear I won’t scream like a pussy.”

Nischal pulled back a little farther, his wide lips twitching as if he were battling a laugh. Then he let go of Preston’s wrists and got off him and the bed entirely.

“Preston,” Nischal said quietly. “Remember me.”

“What’s going to happen? Are you going to not so spontaneously combust or—” Preston’s sarcasm almost choked him as Nischal began to morph right in front of him.
This can’t be happening,
he thought, watching in horror as Nischal rapidly turned into a beautiful white snow leopard.
People can’t bend and their bones can’t…can’t do that kinda shit!

But there was a big golden-eyed snow leopard standing where Nischal had been seconds before.

And for the second time in his life, Preston felt darkness snap over him as he passed out.

Chapter Eight

Nischal didn’t panic when Preston fainted again. He had sort of expected it, even. Preston’s mouth gaped open a little, and Nischal just looked at his pink tongue and straight white teeth for a second or two.

Then he moved closer to the bed and when Preston’s eyelids began to flutter, he licked Preston from the middle of his square chin all the way up the side of his face to his forehead.

“Ack!” Preston batted at him, either too grossed out by the cat kiss to be scared, or not yet fully cognisant of the fact that he was being tasted by a leopard.

Nischal put his big nose to Preston’s much smaller human one and looked at the man. Those green eyes went wide and the pupils dilated rapidly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Preston rasped as he went perfectly still. He didn’t even blink, nor did he breathe for a moment.

Nischal was afraid the man would pass out a third time, only it’d be from a lack of oxygen instead of being scared. He shifted again, and Preston watched him with those big eyes. A whimper escaped Preston and he pressed a hand to his throat.

Nischal noticed then the bruising there and blanched. How had he been so blind? Preston’s raspy voice was most likely owing to the damage to his delicate throat tissues, and he looked like someone had tried to kill him.

Someone had, Nischal scolded himself. And here he’d been trying to fuck the poor man, had been mauling him, all horny and selfish.

Preston put his other hand over his mouth as he continued to gawk. Nischal sighed and slowly put his head down until he had it resting not too far from Preston’s shoulder.

“Please stop being scared of me.” Nischal hadn’t known that was what he was going to say, but he meant it. “I don’t want you to be scared of me. I want you to desire me, to—” He broke off, unable to add the rest. He wanted Preston to care for him, maybe even love him someday, like Kapuk said mates did. “There was an old man, a shifter,” he began, speaking softly, hoping to ease Preston back from the brink of freaking out.

Nischal gently placed a hand palm down on Preston’s chest, close to his heart. Preston sucked in a sharp breath, and he stopped covering his mouth, instead placing that shaky hand over Nischal’s.

The surge of joy that small gesture brought Nischal was probably greater than it should have been. He didn’t care. It was so good to feel something other than fear and despondency.

“This old man, we found him by accident. Sabin, my brother—I have to rescue him tonight—” And he would. “We had been alone since we were fifteen or so. Our mother was captured by hunters, poachers, we never knew which. Whether she lived or died.” He shook his head. “It’s likely the latter, we knew this. It isn’t a good thing for a snow leopard to be caught. Our parts are truly valued for magical powers and medicinal powers they do not have.”

“She didn’t shift?” Preston asked almost timidly. He huffed and rolled his eyes up towards the headboard. “God, I can’t believe I just asked that. Like I’m actually believing this.”

Nischal tried not to let that hurt. Preston had a lot to accept. It had to be hard to do, and Nischal needed to remember that it wasn’t a personal jab for Preston to doubt everything just then. But he also had to keep trying to make Preston acknowledge and accept the truth.

“You have seen me shift, Preston. You’ve felt me, as both man and leopard. You’ve heard me speak.” “And you’ve heard me speak like this, in your mind, which means we are mates.”

“That’s just fucking weird,” Preston said in a rough voice. He rubbed at his throat and winced.

“Maybe you should try it,” Nischal suggested.

Preston goggled at him and sputtered. Nischal waited patiently for a word or two to be formed out of the sounds Preston was making. Preston sealed his lips together so tightly they were compressed into a thin line.

Nischal wanted to lick them open.

“Do it.” Preston glared at him. Did he not think Nischal had heard him? Probably not, Nischal decided.

He leaned in and sent the thought, “You did tell me to,” at the same time that he licked at Preston’s lips. Those luscious things parted on a gasp and Nischal took advantage, sliding his tongue into the warm depths of Preston’s mouth.

Gods, he loved the way the man tasted, sweet and giving. Preston whimpered and framed Nischal’s face in his hands.

Nischal expected to be pushed away, but instead Preston curled his fingers and held on firmly as he tipped his head to provide Nischal with better access.

Nischal rumbled his approval and pushed himself up carefully onto the bed. He lay gently on Preston and began touching every bit of the warm skin he could reach as he kept kissing Preston.

Preston felt so good under him. Solid, sturdy, strong. Nischal parted his legs and planted a knee on either side of Preston’s hips. He arched and lowered his groin until he had his cock lined up beside Preston’s. The heat and hardness was maddeningly perfect.

Nischal wasn’t entirely certain how to go about doing what he wanted to do. The desire to take Preston completely, to claim him and fuck him, was threatening to demolish Nischal’s restraint, but he absolutely would not do any such thing with Preston until Preston knew without a doubt that he wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating. There would be no regretting it when Nischal took him.