Jaguar Knight

die.

Chapter One

My new home was a gorgeous mixture of wood, stone, and glass. Massive windows faced the pastures, allowing light from the twin suns into a large great room. A stone fireplace took up one whole wall opposite the windows. The room was almost too large, but the earth-toned colors and heavy furniture made it seem comfortable and cozy.

Markon kissed my hand, holding it to his cheek for a moment before letting go. Are you ready to go inside? he asked.

The affectionate gesture made my heart pound. I didn’t know if I should reciprocate or ignore it. He was so confusing! I wasn’t sure which of his personas was real. Was he gentle and caring, or was he vindictive and cruel?

He didn’t allow me time to explore, instead leading me to an expansive kitchen with a large wooden table in the center of the room. My mother would have loved this kitchen, even though I doubted she would have recognized the equipment.

I’m just going to do something replicated for lunch. If you’d like something fresh, I’ll have to call the cook in.

Replicated is fine. I wasn’t very hungry, but he seemed intent on feeding me something, even though it had only been a few hours since our last meal. A few minutes later, the replicator chimed and I stood to help.

Have a seat. I’ve got it. He lifted two trays from the machine and brought them to the table. I inhaled the delicious scent of spicy beans and rice. It was comfort food for me, and I couldn’t imagine how he’d known that. I’d grown up on this meal.

My mother used to make this for us. She would serve soup with it. I sniffed back a tear, remembering how hard she’d worked to make a good life for us.

What kind of soup?

His soft voice encouraged me to let go of those memories. Sometimes it was just hot water with dried peppers. If we could find game or fish, it was a celebration, and she would make the bones into stock. She would serve a formal meal with china and glass, and we would wear our best clothes…

I smiled and shook my head as I spooned up the beans. It wasn’t the same, but it wasn’t bad. Just different. I hadn’t really considered that I’d have preferences for food. I’d always eaten what was put in front of me, whether it appealed or not. Even when I’d had a choice on the Athena, I hadn’t cared. Food in Mendaros had been fresh and most of the meals had been lovely, but they didn’t taste as good as this replicated spicy beans and rice.

When I’d finished my meal, he gave me a plate of something creamy and white with black berries scattered over the top. It smelled sweet, but a little tart at the same time. What is this?

It’s called cheesecake, I think. The science officer from Rakon’s battle cruiser made a study of historic Earth foods and I thought you might like it. He scowled down at the food and added, "It was supposed to have something called strawberries on top, but we don’t have those. I hope the raka berries are good with it."

I liked the tart, sweet berries so popular on Ximera. I cut a piece of the cheesecake and brought it to my lips. Rich, creamy goodness exploded over my tongue. By itself, the cheesecake was sublime in its simplicity. The raka berries made it transcendent. The fork fell from my hand as I moaned in pleasure and started to purr.

Markon smiled faintly and picked up my discarded fork. Cutting another bite, he put his free hand under my chin and held the food to my lips. Open, he whispered.

I obeyed his command, sucking every bit from the fork he’d placed in my mouth. Meu deus, the cheesecake thing was delicious. I’d never tasted anything so wonderful. I could smell the fat and sugar as it mingled with the tart berries. My mouth watered for another bite.

He stole a bite for himself instead of giving me another taste. Yet I wasn’t disappointed. He growled low as he sucked the fork clean and tossed it away. His eyes bored into me, and I shifted uncomfortably against the hard wood of the chair.

I wasn’t finished.

Neither am I. He swiped a finger through the creamy treat and held it to my lips. I sucked the digit into my mouth, swirling my tongue around his flesh to get every last morsel. The combination of him and the dessert made me wet, and I clenched my thighs together, my clit aching at the movement.

My jaguar started to purr and I couldn’t stop the low vibration escaping my lips. Markon’s eyes darkened and he hissed out a breath. I could smell his arousal. It was hot and sweet, better than the cheesecake we hadn’t finished, and it made me dizzy with need.

Standing, he held out a hand. Come, he ordered.

I let him help me to my feet and he led me through the magnificent house. My vision narrowed to the image of my smaller hand tucked into his. I saw nothing else except the bed. Covered in dark green fabric, it was tall and massive. An austere wood panel rested behind the fluffy pillows, and I gasped as he tossed them to the floor, along with most of the bedding.

When he turned to me and I saw the hard-edged look of desire in his eyes, I took a step backward. He looked dangerous and feral, but my jaguar relished the look he gave us. I opened my mouth to drag his scent across my palate, whimpering at the thick perfume of his arousal.

In two long strides, he had my face in his large hands and was kissing me. When I tried to wrap my arms around him, he captured my wrists, holding them easily with one hand behind my back. I wanted to struggle away from the captivity, but I was too entranced at the sensations flooding my body to put forth the effort. He worked his free hand into my hair and gently tugged until I let my head fall back, exposing my tender throat to him.

I cried out when he nipped sharply at the thin skin over my collarbone, panting when he soothed the sting with his tongue. With a few jerks, the buttons securing his jacket scattered across the floor as he worked his shoulders free of the fabric. We were almost skin to skin, my thin red dress the only barrier between us. Crisp hair abraded my skin, and I pressed against him, desperate for more of the sensation.

He cursed and I squeaked as he ripped my dress down the front, baring me to his hungry appraisal. Letting go of my hands for a split second, he tugged the remains away and threw them to the floor. I was flying across the room before I knew it and landed with a grunt in the center of that massive bed. He stalked me, his eyes hot as he reached forward and tugged one of my ankles, dragging me toward him.

I tried to lift myself on my elbows to watch. He still wore those tight leather pants and boots, but his chest was magnificently bare and rippled with muscles. I wanted to trace the lines they made on his abdomen and follow that sexy V that flowed into the waistband. His hair thinned on his abdomen until it was a straight line of dark curls leading toward the flesh straining at the fastenings of his pants.

The scent of the fluid leaking from his cock made my core pulse and I had to swallow to keep from drooling. I want to taste you. My voice was a hoarse whisper, but I knew he heard me when he gave me an evil smile.

He chuckled darkly as he knelt, straddling my hips. Give me your hands.

I didn’t dare disobey him, though it terrified me a little. My hands shook as I held them up for him, and he soothed my palms with soft kisses until I stopped trembling and drew in a deep breath. Something cold touched my wrists and I heard a metallic click. My jaguar protested the confinement, but not because she was frightened or angry. Not being able to touch him displeased her, but she purred as he stretched my arms over my head, pressing them into the bedding.

He fiddled with the cuffs for a moment and I heard the click of a button followed by the tiny whine of an electrical charge. I stiffened in surprise and fear, wondering if they would shock me. What the hell are you doing? I tried to sit up, but the cuffs held my arms to the bed. Lifting my hips, I struggled, trying to buck him off, but he was immovable.

Leaning forward, he framed my head with his arms and kissed me, but I was too panicked to accept the touch. Shhh, little mate. These cuffs can’t hurt you. They’re just a toy for lovers.

He tapped the cuffs again and I jerked my hands away, though he didn’t release them for long. Pressing my wrists into the bedding once more, he whispered, I want to taste you until I get my fill. I want to hear you scream in pleasure before I let you free again.

I whimpered and the sound was drowned out by my jaguar’s rumbling purr. We hated confinement of any sort and Markon knew that! Why did that damned cat pick now to break with tradition? I found out when he pulled my nipple into his mouth swirled his tongue over the pink bud, never touching the spot where I needed it most.

My other nipple didn’t go unattended. He lifted his head and stared at me as he licked his fingers. When he lowered his head once more, he used his dampened fingers to trace circles around the one begging for attention. The tickling