Scratching Post

Terri Pray

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The black panther shifter Theron was dangerous. He was everything Emmie had been warned about. He oozed sex appeal and walked into her world with only one purpose. To mate with Emmie and then walk out of her life for good. She ...
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The black panther shifter Theron was dangerous. He was everything Emmie had been warned about. He oozed sex appeal and walked into her world with only one purpose. To mate with Emmie and then walk out of her life for good.

She knew better than to become his scratching post.

Touching him. Kissing him. Dreaming about him. It was all wrong. So why couldn't she shut him out of her mind? Or out of her heart?

Bad enough that he followed her from the city, but now Theron claimed he wanted to get to know her better. Perhaps even find a way to become a part of her life. No, this wasn't happening to her. She wasn't about to repeat history. No matter how his kisses set her alight, or set her body into a spiral of desire.

Feline shifters were dangerous, and Emmie wanted no part of him. Or did she?

  • Note:This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Bondage (mild), Domination/submission, dubious consent, masturbation, violence, voyeurism.
Theron Grave stopped in his tracks as the woman tangled her fingers into the hand of the trembling man and led him toward the door. Her aroma hit him hard, threatening to send him to his knees in the middle of the room, her image imprinted onto his heart, mind, and soul alike.

Shifter. Female. Feline and in heat. All thought about just what had brought him to the bar fled with the walking temptation she offered him. Beautiful. Seductive. Sex on legs as she walked away from him. No. He couldn’t let her just walk out on him. Not with the promise of what she was, the pleasure her body offered, so blatantly on display for his senses. He took a step toward her, his gaze focused on her sensually curved form.

Her long, dark hair was a living tail in human form as it snaked about her shoulders. God, it would have been so very easy to pull her away from the man, wrap his fingers into her hair, and claim her. Fully. His. Not the human’s. She didn’t belong with their kind. What was she doing with him? Couldn’t she smell another of her own kind here in the bar? Or was she so wrapped up in the human that she knew nothing else? Whatever was going on it would end. Now.

His body tightened, his cock thickening within his jeans. He wanted to move to her, to take her into his arms, but even if she had not been with another man, there was a crowd around them. Their path to the door was half blocked as one man stopped the human male she was with, laughing and joking with him.

Theron edged closer, ignoring the light touch of a woman who attempted to attract his attention. Whatever the women here wanted, or his reason for entering the bar, those now paled as he watched the female of his kind move away through the crowd.

Where was she from?

What had brought her to the bar? No, that part he knew and understood all too well. The cycle had hit her; the need to mate ruled her decisions.

Now it called to him, demanded his attention and affection.

A low growl spilled from his lips as he moved forward through the bar, but they had already left, vanishing through the door. He couldn’t push past the men and women quickly enough, yet they appeared hell-bent on keeping him trapped within the bar itself.

No. I can’t let her go. She’s mine. She doesn’t belong with humans. They’re not worth her attention or the touch of a female in heat. They don’t even know how to arouse a woman of their own kind fully, let alone welcome the hungry beast of a woman like this.

He yanked open the door and hurried out into the night, but they were gone from sight. Only the soft, lingering scent of her arousal remained in the air. Tempting him, teasing him with her existence. He had to find her. She couldn’t have gone far. Not with the human, the man she had chosen to spend the next few hours with. It wouldn’t take much to track her down, not with the way her body left such delicious signals in the air.

His pulse raced as he lifted his head, sniffing the air, searching for a sign of where she had gone, which direction she had walked, but the myriad of strange, chemical-heavy smells combined to reduce his chances of locating her. No. It couldn’t be this way. Not with the years he had spent as a hunter, a tracker; those skills couldn’t fail him now. The hateful smells of the city combined to battle against him, but he had to try and follow her, track her down. He couldn’t just sit back and let her walk out of his life.

Whoever she was, she belonged to him.

If only for the night.

No. Not just for the night. For longer…

God. What has gotten into me? Longer than a night? Has it truly been that long since I slipped between the willing thighs of a female in heat? Have I forgotten just how they call out with their soft smells, their delicious bodies? Have I been denied their touch for that long?

If so, he was lost in a way he had never expected could happen to him.

Copyright © Terri Pray


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