.jpg)
Her voice was still low and husky, but her joy created an intimacy between them that hadn’t been there before. He had slowed his steps to match her shorter ones. He wanted to watch her face, but he’d been too long in security, always looking out for danger, and she was too precious to him to take chances with. His gaze swept the roof of every building, rocks, bushes, trees, anything that might hide an enemy, but his attention was riveted on her. He counted on his leopard to be a sentry, to warn him if there was trouble close by.
“Was there a way to solve the problem?”
“There’s always a way, Sevastyan. I just had to give it some thought. I wanted those crimson reds and gorgeous yellows and bright greens. Even some of the branches and trunks can be red when the leaves fall. I planted taller shade trees first and then the dwarf trees once the shade trees took root and were a certainty to make it. The Golden Dragon is known for its garden almost as much as it is for its food now, and the garden is still quite young.”
He slung his arm around her neck and pulled her in close to drop a kiss on top of her head. “You’re so damn smart and talented, woman. I’ve developed a real love of plants just looking at all the various gardens you’ve worked on around the city.”
He let her go. They were at the back of the house, where they could easily begin to jog. He set an easy pace. He had much longer legs, so it was a matter of making certain she wasn’t running to keep up. When he was certain she was comfortable with their pace, he continued the conversation.
“I bought a bunch of catalogues when you were talking to Brent Shriver, your supplier.”
“Sevastyan.” She almost wailed his name. “Why would you do that? I have tons of catalogues. And I mostly use him for exotic plants. His prices are higher than the norm.”
“You don’t seem to like talking about your work with me. I thought if I educated myself on the plants it would help. I like having them in the house as well as outside. I’m really anxious to start planning the indoor garden with you. I thought about what you said, that it might be too big and we might have to do it in sections. I hadn’t thought that it could be overwhelming. You’re just one person and it is very personal since we’re incorporating bondage equipment as part of the basic décor.”
He caught her green gaze going amber, flashing at him before she turned her face forward, toward the trees. She jogged almost a yard before she replied. “I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that I didn’t want to discuss my work with you. I guess I thought you’d find it boring. You work late and whatever you do is . . . complicated. I don’t even know exactly what it is you do.”
There was always going to be that lying between them. His work. There was no getting around that and no getting out of it. He was what he was. What he’d been born into. She already suspected. She heard the rumors. Hell, he’d told her. She saw him get out of a car and she might not have witnessed him shooting someone, but she certainly suspected that he had. He’d admitted to her that he’d hunted and killed the men who were waiting to kidnap her on his property. Once her leopard emerged, she would know what he was.
Sevastyan stayed quiet. There wasn’t much to say. He looked down at the top of her head, at the messy topknot of impossibly bright red hair. It was definitely red. And very thick and wild. Untamed. That should have given him a clue right there. He’d been so damned complacent, so arrogant just because she liked the ropes. Because she craved sex the way he did. Not exactly the same way. Her body was very sensitive, her nerve endings burning close to the surface, causing the sensations to be almost painful.
They were coming up on the trees and he indicated for her to go ahead of him and set the pace. She had a shorter stride and she could run full out and still not be anywhere near as fast as he was. He didn’t want her to know how fast he could run. Sevastyan kept himself in top fighting shape at all times. Amur leopards were fast and could leap amazing distances, both horizontally and vertically. Shturm had set records at both running and leaping. He could turn in midair and switch directions. He was also in top fighting form and far more experienced than most males. There was no doubt that he could keep his mate safe.
Sevastyan followed her through the path in the woods. It was narrow and wound in and out of the trees. She was faster than he thought she would be and she clearly was used to running. He should have known. He had used extreme exercise to stave off the terrible craving for sexual needs as long as he possibly could before he had Flambé in his life. She ran like a machine, her body flexible, muscles rippling beneath her thin tank and bunching in her thighs.
The rope marks were visible on her legs and arms. Her running top was short, ending just below her bra and exposing the line of rope knots down her back that still showed so beautifully on her skin. They fell into a rhythm easily, moving through the trees and bushes, and even with the fast pace, he found himself liking the way his marks of possession looked on her. He felt primitive toward her. Even predatory, much like his male leopard; primal, not wanting any other male close to her. He’d never experienced any emotion even close to what he was feeling.
Running gave him time to assess his unusual and unhealthy sentiments. He knew part of it was the fact that her leopard hadn’t emerged yet and his leopard was raging, prowling closer and closer to the surface every hour. Shturm was growing impatient just when Sevastyan was certain that he needed patience now more than ever.
“Head back to the house, baby,” he called out. “To the twin garages. I’ve had something I wanted to talk to you about.”
For a minute he wasn’t certain she would respond, but then she chose a path that would loop them back toward their home. He hadn’t been paying close attention to their route until that moment. She had run in the opposite direction of his cousin’s property, staying clear of any chance meeting with any of the shifters who might be working near the property lines. They weren’t that close, but they could have been.
Once out of the trees and into the clearing, Sevastyan lengthened his stride and paced himself beside her. “Are you ashamed for anyone to see my rope marks on you?” That would hurt. He knew it shouldn’t. Most women wouldn’t want others to see that they enjoyed being tied, but somehow he equated her being ashamed of the rope patterns with a rejection of him.
He caught just a brief glimpse of her eyes glittering green and gold, and then she was looking straight ahead again as she ran. “They belong to me and no one else. You gave them to me, like a gift. It felt intimate between us.”
He heard the truth in the husky vibration of her voice. She sounded close to tears and that was the last thing he wanted. Her answer was unexpected and pleasing.
He took his time before responding. “That’s why no one has ever been in our room. After it was renovated, I did all the other work myself so that when I found you, no one else had ever touched the equipment or seen it. It was just for you. For us. That’s the way I want our garden ultimately to be. Visitors can look from the outside, but I don’t want them in it. That will be ours and our leopards’.”
They got back to the house and he retrieved water and towels for them. She splashed water on her face and then drank thirstily, her gaze on the rope marks on her wrists and forearms. “I suppose I have to be careful when I’m going to meet with clients.”
Was there regret in her voice? He nodded solemnly. “I’ll pay attention to your work schedule and be mindful of how I tie you. I don’t have to leave marks that will stay. Most will fade in a few hours. These won’t last.”
Both carrying waters, they walked around the large house, down to the area where Dover had originally built the massive garages where he kept and worked on his cars. Ania’s family had been obsessed with cars and they could take them apart and put them back together, making them ten times better when they did so. The garages were used for making their cars fast enough to outrun anything on the road.
The garages were easily two stories high. The second stories consisted of long wooden lofts made up of very thick
beams. The pulley systems the Dovers used to haul engines out of the cars hung from the beams. Crude staircases gave access to the lofts that ran the long length of the buildings. The two garages had been empty since Ania had moved out and sold the property to Sevastyan.
At first, she hadn’t wanted to sell. The property had been in her family for a long time and it was difficult for her to think of letting it go, but her life was committed to Mitya and she eventually decided she wanted Sevastyan to have the Dover estate. He had been there so many times and had unconsciously been making plans for it. Once living there, he’d discovered, the house and grounds had plenty of secrets, such as the tunnel leading between the properties. There was a second tunnel that led out to the highway. The Dovers believed in being careful. They weren’t quite as paranoid as he was, but he appreciated their efforts and was taking advantage of some of them.
Sevastyan led Flambé into the first garage, through the cavernous interior over to the far wall that separated the two garages. That wall was shared by the second garage. He stared up at the high ceilings and then the loft made up of the thick beams.
“I’ve spent a lot of time in here thinking about our leopards. Right here”—he put his hand on the wall—“this will come down when we open it up. If we planted a really big tree here, one with a thick trunk and large branches that grow out in both directions, as well as up toward the loft, we could create a really amazing space for our leopards.”
“Our leopards?” Flambé echoed, spinning around to look up at him, shock on her face. She had been wandering around, not really paying him much attention, but now she was wholly focused on him.
He nodded, ignoring her look of total surprise. “When we tear the wall down, and utilize both garages, the space will be large enough for the leopards to really roam around, especially if we keep the loft. They’d have a climbing area, a place to rest, and several ways to escape from either side of the garden. If we got in trouble, they would be safe and so would we.”
Flambé stared up at the planks of wood overhead that still made up the loft where the pulley system that had dragged engines out of cars had been. She walked away from him and then out farther, where she continued to study the loft from different angles.
“We could make stairs to the roof in various directions from the loft. Long ones so they weren’t noticeable and the leopards could use them as perches or places to rest if they wanted,” she added. “I like the idea of a large tree here. I’d have to bring in a big crane and we’d need to put the roots down deep. That would require a very large hole.”
Sevastyan couldn’t help but drink in her expression. When she started talking about her work, the love of her plants and the designs she created, she practically glowed. She forgot all about being guarded and became totally enthusiastic. Clearly, she could envision the garden even better than he could.
“If we make the tree the focal point, the branches extending not only up toward the loft and roof but down toward the ground and whatever we choose to plant there, as well as outward to both sides of the garden, it could be extraordinary,” she continued. “I was thinking more along the lines of a water feature as a focal point, but this is brilliant when you not only consider the leopards and their needs, but any number of ways to escape danger.” She tapped her thigh with the water bottle. “Really, Sevastyan, this is good.”
“If you use a mature tree, how can you train the branches in the directions you want them to go?” He’d been curious about that. Most of the trees she planted were young enough that she could work with the immature limbs, twisting them and encouraging them gently, using materials to sculpt them in the forms and ways she wanted them to go. She could make a living tree a piece of art, and often did.
“It is more difficult with a mature tree,” Flambé conceded, “but we’ve got many already planted on our property that my father began years ago with the idea in mind that we might need to use them for special clients. There weren’t that many shifters in this area, but he planned ahead. I’m doing the same thing. When I take an older tree, I plant several more and work on them in order to shape them accordingly. Still . . .” She broke off, looking up at the loft, shaking her head with a small smile. “I don’t think we have anything close to the size we’d need. I’ll have to find one of our fastest-growing, tallest trees and try to accelerate it a bit.”
“It would be great if the branches could extend out in both directions, encompassing both garages fairly equally to bring the two buildings together so they look as if they were always supposed to be one building.” He flashed a small smile. “Not to mention, a strong tree branch would be an anchor for good suspension.”
She laughed. “Naturally you’d think like that.”
“And you weren’t?” he challenged.
She blushed. “I suppose I was.” Flambé rubbed her arm and then rolled the water bottle over her skin.
Sevastyan dropped his gaze to her arm. Her skin had turned a rosy strawberry and something seemed to run under it for just a moment. Shturm roared. The wave receded.
She frowned and indicated they start back to the house, turning away from him, quickening her steps in an effort to put distance between them. His longer strides made that impossible.
“What’s wrong, Flambé?” He poured concern into his voice. “Did you hurt yourself?”
She shook her head. “It’s nothing. I should have put on more sunscreen. I’m so fair I burn easily.”
She stepped back when he reached around her to open the door, avoiding his body brushing hers. He didn’t let that happen, crowding her just a little. A little shiver went through her. Definitely sensitive. He followed her up the stairs, watching the sway of her ass. She had a way of moving that could make any man notice.
Sevastyan waited until they were in the bedroom and he’d closed the door and leaned against it. “Go in and shower. When you come out, I’ll put lotion on you.”
Her tongue touched her lips and her eyes went green and gold, flicking to his face, barely meeting his gaze then shying away. Already, the haze was starting. She was equating their bedroom with his place of domination. He also wanted it be her safe place. Her haven. She was still very torn. In the ropes she felt safe. But outside of them, she was emotionally terrified. That dichotomy just didn’t make sense.
He stepped close to her and cupped her chin, sliding his thumb over her lower lip. “Baby, take your shower.”
“You rubbing lotion on my skin will make me burn so hot I’ll go insane, Sevastyan,” she confessed in a low voice, as if she felt guilty.
His thumb strummed her lower lip like an instrument, knowing her sex was keeping that same pulse. “That’s not a bad thing, Flambé. We’re in our room. Even if we were downstairs and you were burning hot, I’d take care of you. This is our home. If we were having a dinner party and you needed me, you just crook your little finger and I’ll figure it out. It’s my job to put the fire out.” He bent his head and brushed a kiss across her eyes. “I like my job.”
“Why did your cat bite me again? This morning, when you were holding me, he bit me. I was so far gone, I barely knew it, but he did. Flamme rose again. I felt her for a moment. She went wild. Why did he do that?”
He slid his hands down her body to find the hem of her tank. “Shturm has been worried about your little female.” He pulled the shirt over her head and removed her sports bra, spilling her breasts into the cooler air. Gently he cupped the full mounds, thumbs sliding over her nipples. “I love how responsive you are. One small touch and you’re ready for anything.” He tugged and rolled with equal gentleness. When she shivered, he pinched with much more firmness.
“Why has he been worried?”
“She should have been making more appearances, even if they were brief. He wanted to ensure she knew he would take care of her and you. That he’d protect both of you.”
“But he didn’t have to claim her again, did he?” she protested.
He clamped down on her nipples,
pinching between his thumb and finger, leaning forward to kiss her neck. “Take off your shorts, Flambé. When you move your hips like that, is the material rubbing? When you rub does it burn?” He increased the pressure on her nipples, distracting her. “I thought about that when you were running ahead of me, the friction between your legs. What kind of panties I wanted to buy for you so you could run and I could torment you and know you were thinking about me while you ran. Were you, baby? Were you thinking about my cock and what it could do to you? How it can make you scream?”
She gasped and came up on her toes. “Yes.” The confession came out in a rush. “You’re all I thought about. You’re mostly what I think about when I’m not working.”
He bent his head to her left breast and sucked, pressing her nipple to the roof of his mouth and then teasing it with a lash of his tongue. She had rope marks around both breasts. Those marks were the deepest. He traced the circles while he gave her right breast equal attention. When he lifted his head, he spun her around abruptly and gave her a little push toward the bathroom, swatting her ass. “Shower.”
By the time Flambé returned, he had everything he wanted set out beside his favorite chair. He showered, taking his time, knowing she was waiting for him naked, walking around the room because he hadn’t told her to stand, hadn’t indicated that he was going to tie her. The anticipation was building in her.
In spite of her desire to deny that her hormones were getting out of control, her female leopard rising to add to the fire already continually spreading through her nerve endings, Flambé couldn’t stay still. Restless, she rubbed her thighs together and paced the floor, casting glances toward the glass door and then toward his chair and the things he had set out.
Sevastyan came into the bedroom completely naked. He knew he looked intimidating. He was big, a brutal-looking man with a thick, wide chest covered in defined muscles and various scars. His cock could be intimidating as well, but Flambé never found it that way. She always seemed fascinated, always prepared to be adoring. What man didn’t want his woman to have adoration for his cock?