Page 24 of Pretty Kitten

She shook her head. Daunte tilted his, slowly ogling her. It was only under this observation that she realized she was entirely naked.

Fuck.

Daunte took a step forward, slowly. And another one. And another one. When he was right in front of her, he lifted his hand to her neck, pushing her hair off her shoulder, uncovering her breast. The eager nipples stood to attention, begging for his mouth.

“You’re a shifter, darling. You’ll crave touch. You’ll crave sex. You’ll crave everything you’ve ever wanted a thousand times more.”

That sounded about right.

“If it had been Coveney or Ian following you, you would still have begged to be fucked. I don’t matter to your gorgeous, slutty pussy.”

She wasn’t sure how the hell she did it, but, the next second, she’d jumped up, wrapped her legs around his neck, and flipped him down on the ground.

“If you’re gonna spout nonsense, might as well keep that mouth of yours occupied,” she growled, her voice as cold as his, before shifting her hips forward and sitting on his face.

“There’s a good boy. Eat.”

To be entirely honest, she had zero clue what the fuck was happening; but she liked it. Especially when, after glaring at her for a good minute, Daunte opened his mouth, and flicked her folds with his tongue, arms around her thighs, holding them in place until she yelled.

Scratch him.

It wasn’t words, not really, but she could feel what the creature inside her wanted just as clearly as if it had said it out loud.

Mark him.

That was stupid. Why would she hurt him?

Mark him.

The creature needed her to.

Clari remembered when she’d been locked in the darkness, unable to make her body move; she’d needed the animal to let her back, and she had. So, stopping herself from questioning it, she moved her hips down to his torso, and tore through the fabric of Daunte’s shirt, uncovering his naked skin. Then, softly, she slid her finger down his muscles as her lips dropped down to his neck.

“I wouldn’t have fucked anyone else,” she whispered.

“Poetic.”

He sounded breathless, a little stunned.

“But you’re about to cross a line you don’t understand, beautiful,” he said, eying her right hand.

She saw her fingertips had been replaced by sharp claws. Strange. She hadn’t even felt it.

“You see the mark Ace gave Rye? Scratch me with this, and it will be just as deep. Just as permanent. And I’ll scratch you back.”

Clari noted that he wasn’t exactly telling her to stop, though. Which was crazy because they didn’t know each other. Plus, he’d seemed to hate her not even a couple of weeks back. So yeah, no scratching.

Her cat hissed in protest.

“Enough of that,” Daunte said.

And just like that, without any sort of momentum, he flipped them around, throwing her on her back.

“You know what you were doing, Clarissa?” he asked, forbidding. “You were taking control. You were demanding my submission. Mine.” The last word came out as a growl as his eyes changed, making her freeze underneath him. That didn’t last long, but by the time she was kicking and screaming, he was holding both of her hands over her head, and practically sitting on top of her naked frame.

“And you almost had it, too, sweet. Almost. But this isn’t how it’s going to work. You’re never going to try to bully me again.” She hissed. Was hissing her thing, now? “And, in exchange,” he added, “I’ll return the favor. I won’t make you open your mouth and take me without asking your permission, like you just did to me.”

Oh. Well, said like that, she’d sort of been an asshole. And a half.

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