Southern Shifters - Press Paws (Buchanan Clan #2) (8 page)

I
t felt like only moments
, but Hannah knew it’d been hours since her father’s arrival and brusque departure. One minute, her dad argued with Greer, and the next, her mother pushed her sister and daddy out the front door. Somewhere in between, the men hunted for a couple of deer and seared them on the grill. Her father was prepared to let her, Momma and Katie go searching for game—it’s how male lions did things—but her mate wasn’t having it.

Ryland said he was capable of tearing into a raw deer. He was just as capable to run one down and snap its neck. Daddy grumbled and grunted but his golden cat followed her silver mate into the forest.

It was the first time she’d ever seen Angus Buchanan act like anything but the typical male lion.

Huh.

Now full and sleepy, they were alone once again.

She was full anyway. Sleepy… There was no way Hannah could feel sleepy with her rugged, muscular mate so close.

And not another soul in the house. They’d been through a lot during the day, but it ended with her father’s blessing and Ryland
not
in jail. She felt that was cause for a celebration.

A mately one. Wherein they did mately, forever things.

Her lioness was more than game for that. It purred and prowled her mind, chuffing and huffing as it traveled back and forth. It urged her to seek him out, to pounce and claim him before another could lay their slutty paws on the male who belonged to them.

She dunked another plate beneath the cascading water in the sink, rinsing the remnants of blood from the slick surface before taking a wet sponge to the white ceramic. The sound of water pounding the back deck fought with the tinkling of her washing the dishes. Ryland took care of washing blood from the wood, erasing any trace of their meal.

Her mate had not only hunted for her, but dragged the carcass back to the house and dropped it in front of the door as if it were the greatest prize known to man. The silver lion was damned proud of his hunt and Hannah was quick to praise the more animalistic side of the male.

Like a house cat presenting its owner with a treat, he presented Hannah with a deer.

Gross… yet it was one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for her.

She rinsed the last plate, shaking it gently before bending and placing it in the dishwasher. Closing the door with a soft click, it took the press of a few buttons to begin the wash cycle. And then she was done—bored and waiting for her mate to finish so she could…

Pounce on him like a mouse. Or a squirrel. She’d think bunny, but with her adopted sister
being
a bunny, rabbits had been off a lion’s menu for a while in the Buchanan pride.

Pressing the button to begin the wash cycle on the dishwasher, Hannah abandoned her post at the sink and padded to the back door. The shades were pulled high, exposing the large window and giving her an unimpeded view of Ryland. Ryland spraying the porch. Ryland getting wet while he sprayed the porch. Ryland’s shirt sticking to him as he got wet while he sprayed the porch.

Arousal thrummed in her veins. Pulsating with the thud of her heartbeat. She licked her lips and swallowed the purr that threatened to overtake her. She wanted him. Above her. Inside her. His fangs sinking through her flesh.

Everything and more.

The cat’s need crawled through her body, pressing forward, and it attempted to shove her out the door. It wanted their mate—now. Not later, not after she gathered the nerve, but
now
.

She found it hard to resist the she-cat’s demands for satisfaction. Both parts of her craved the tall, muscular male. Both sides of her were curious about his touch, his taste. And she’d have those ponderings sated. Soon.

Ryland dragged the hose to the side of the house and quickly wrapped it around the stand. Hands free, he turned toward her, their gazes colliding, and then he froze in place.

Attentions snared by each other, she stepped from the home and turned to face him, a smile on her lips. He was so gorgeous. So strong and fierce but with a gentle side. She craved both of those dynamics, craved every part of his personality.

Ryland took one step toward her, and then another, and rather than go to him, she waited. If she touched him now, she’d beg and plead for him to take her—surroundings be damned.

So she waited, remained still beside the door and watched his slow approach. The vibration of his heavy steps traveled through her, shaking her from inside out. The trembles stroked her already-sensitized nerves, sending a tendril of pleasure and need through her blood. Her clit twitched, that part of her anxious for her mate’s explorations.

She stroked the column of her throat. Would he caress her there? Would he brush his lips over her flesh and then bite into that part of her? She hoped so.

Then she allowed her hand to travel farther, to caress her chest and then the shadowed valley between her breasts. His attention dropped to her chest, eyes flaring gold with the bold stroke.

She wanted him to want her. Wanted him to crave her body as much as she craved his. By the look of things—his cock straining against his jeans—he was well on his way to needing her.

“Come inside, Ryland,” she said, the words a hint above a whisper. The soft sound was almost a plea.

Ryland’s eyes flashed amber, the cat’s gaze peeking from behind human eyes. He quirked a single brow, his gaze retaining its place, those eyes still consumed by the cat.

“And why should I do that?” He paused when a handful of feet separated them.

Hannah quirked a brow of her own, surprised by the rush of adrenaline that came with being challenged by her male.

“Because…” she breathed and moved closer, close enough that she could reach out and stroke his chest if she desired. But she didn’t. Not yet. “Because you and I have unfinished business.”

“Really?” A grin teased his lips, but he remained stationary.

“Really.” Now she did reach for him, she did knot her fingers in his thin t-shirt, and she did give his clothing a tug until his front was flush with her own. She slid one hand up his arm, across his shoulders and then rested it on his chest. “I’m feeling rather neglected, if I’m honest. I’m ready to mate and my mate doesn’t seem to ca—“

The few words managed what her presence could not. Suddenly she found herself firmly captured in his embrace, one of his arms at her back and the other curled behind her knees. He hefted her high and turned toward the front of the house.

Exactly where the stairs were located.

A kick of the door had it swinging shut, the panel thudding into place in the frame. Long strides carried them to the foot of the stairs, followed by the heavy stomps while Ryland carried her up upstairs. The dimness of the hallway enveloped them, giving them a brief respite from the sun’s bright rays.

Suddenly, they were in the master bedroom, Ryland beside the massive mattress while she remained in his hold.

For all of a second.

She found herself falling through the air only to bounce on the surface with a squeak. She leaned back, propping her hands on the soft surface behind her while her legs remained relaxed.

She wanted this, wanted to give him everything. No sense in wasting time pretending to be coy.

“God damn, you’re beautiful.” He bent and reached for an ankle. He stroked her calf, fingertips dancing over it and higher to her knee. “And mine.”

Yes. She was. Whole-heartedly and one hundred percent. All his. She sorta figured he knew she agreed, but his grip tightened on her thigh just above her knee, fingers squeezing her plump flesh.

“
Mine
,” he snarled the single syllable and her lioness would allow her to do nothing but confirm his claim.

“Yours,” she gasped, the pain from his hold quickly transforming to pleasure with his continued hold.

A deep purr came from her mate’s chest, the sound rumbling and rolling through the room. He slowly lowered his upper body, drawing nearer while he crawled atop the bed. He bracketed her with arms and legs, crawling forward while she eased back to give him more space. She didn’t want to be hindered in any way and wanted to give herself permission to be as wild and passionate as she desired… without fear of falling off the bed.

When she settled in the middle, Ryland still hovering above her, she allowed herself leave to touch him. She began at his forearms, skimming the thick part of him. Her touch went farther, caressing his biceps and finally settling on his shoulders. His body was honed and strong, powerful and fierce.

“Mine,” she whispered as she dug her blunted fingernails into his flesh. Two could play the claim game. She curled her fingers behind his neck and gently applied pressure, drawing his mouth to hers so she could murmur against his lips. “All mine.”

The kiss began soft, a simmering heat that warmed even further with each brush of their mouths and flick of tongues. He lapped at the seam of her mouth and she opened for him, immediately granting him entrance. They dueled then, taking and giving pleasure with their burning kiss.

Ryland slowly lowered his weight and she spread her thighs, cradling him between her legs. His hard cock lined up with her needing pussy, giving her a hint of delicious ecstasy. She reveled in his closeness, in his larger body blanketing hers in his warmth, scent, and taste. He surrounded her, overwhelming her senses with his mere presence and she…

She craved more. More of his kisses, his touch, his everything.

Hannah hooked one leg around his thigh while she rocked her hips, dragging more joy from their position. The rocking of their bodies sent a spear of joy through her, her clit twitching with the rougher caress. She moaned into his mouth, announcing the pleasure she drew from the movement.

Ryland gripped the back of her leg and hauled it higher, hooking it around his hip. It opened her further, giving her even more of him. The press of their bodies increased when he laid upon her fully. She lifted the other, encircling his waist and drawing him flush. The pressure neared pain but edged off just enough to transform back into pleasure.

She moaned and groaned, their bodies working in concert. Her pussy clenched and heated, growing slick with her need to be fully possessed by him. To be claimed by him.

Today. Tomorrow. Forever.

She ran her fingers through his dark hair, enjoying the feel of those silken locks floating over her hands. She fisted the strands, needing more of him, the cat demanding they move beyond drugging kisses and on to things that would solidify their mating.

Ryland must have felt the same way. He wrenched his lips from hers, heavy panting escaping him as he fought for air. “Need.”

God, she needed too. So bad.

Hannah fisted the fabric of his shirt, yanking and pulling at the cloth in an effort to draw it over his head. Ryland pushed away from her, settling back on his knees while he finished the job she’d started. The thin fabric vanished, baring him to her gaze. Golden tan skin filled her vision, his tanned flesh sliding over honed layers of muscle. He moved with the grace of a cat, body lean and powerful like his inner beast.

Her fingers itched with the need to stroke him, to explore every dip and carved line of his body. Then she’d follow the touches with her mouth, tasting every inch of his form.

She pushed herself up, sitting on the bed while her legs remained loosely over his thighs. She tugged on her own top, anxious to be nude.

Nude and then
his
.

The fabric had barely left her hands when Ryland was there, large palms skimming her body, sparking her nerves to life with the glide of skin on skin. He yanked on her bra and it quickly gave way, letting her breasts fall free of the confining lace.

He cupped her breasts, thumbs tracing small circles around her hardening nipples. She leaned back, giving him space to play—to pleasure her. His touch was gentle but no less arousing, the soft pressure enough to drive her crazy with need. Those talented hands kneaded her plump globes and she pressed into his palms, aching for more of him. She trembled with a roll of need, desire striking her in a shuddering wave.

Her hips twitched, body jerking and torn between accepting Ryland’s attentions and urging him to give her more.

Much more.

He continued to caress her breasts, but that didn’t mean she had to remain passive while he pleasured her. She reached for his jeans, fingers toying with the waist of his pants, and she snapped the metal button. She grasped the small metal zipper tab between her fingers and gave it a small tug. Not enough to lower it, but enough to snare Ryland’s attention.

“Hannah,” he growled and pressed his bulge against her hand.

She uncurled her fingers and caressed his firm length, stroking him from top to bottom. The cloth separating them blunted the sensations but she knew it was still enough to drive a person insane with need. She rubbed up and then down, giving him a squeeze when she neared the head of his cock. It throbbed against her palm, that part of him begging to be released.

She wanted that part of him too. With her last caress, she paused at his zipper once more. This time she tugged down, relieving some of the pressure his captured hardness created.

“Fuck,” he hissed.

“That’s what I want,” she whispered and licked her lips, mouth watering at the thought of him in her mouth. But not yet. First, she needed to be claimed.

The rest could come later.

She pulled and yanked, battling to get to her prize. “Need you, Ryland.”

He growled, the color of his eyes swirling from lion to wolf and back again. She knew it was the wolf that fought for dominance. The wolf was the part of him that was biologically driven to claim her.

“Strip.” He curled his lip, exposing a lengthening fang.

She wasn’t one to do as ordered. To jump when he barked. “You first.”

Her hint of rebellion spurred him into action. He didn’t retreat as she’d anticipated. No, instead, he remained in place and grasped the waist of her shorts. His claws dug into the fabric and one wrench had the cloth parting and fluttering through the air as nothing more than scraps.