The Jaguar

Chapter Two

A Great Horned Owl hooted in a nearby tree, its low call rolling through the quiet morning. Nia cracked one heavy eyelid open, every muscle in her body aching from the relentless pummeling Aaron had given her through the night and into the pale shimmer of dawn.

He had taken her over and over, using slow, bruising thrusts, quick punishing ones...until there was nothing left between them but the mingled scent of sweat, musk, and satisfied exhaustion. He'd taken her in every way a body could be taken, leaving her wrung out, trembling, and utterly spent.

She turned her head to look at him. Aaron lay half-turned toward her, the sharp edges of his boyish features softened by sleep. His lashes were so long they brushed shadows onto his golden skin, and his lips--full, double-toned, achingly kissable--parted slightly with each slow breath.

Her chest tightened, the kind of ache that had nothing to do with the soreness in her limbs. She bit down on the sob that threatened to escape. She was hopelessly in love with him, against every shred of good sense she possessed. Everyone had warned her, including Aaron himself, not to give him her heart. To enjoy him, but never to allow herself get consumed by him.

How could she not, though? He was a beautiful man...exceedingly so. The kind of beauty that lived in the body and the spirit, drawing people in like moths to flame. And he knew her. All of her. Every secret thought, every hidden scar, every place inside her that craved his touch.

The owl outside hooted again, more insistent this time. Nia rolled her eyes toward the sound, irritation sparking. Her clan didn't care that she'd been tangled in the king's bed until morning--they still expected her to work, to be sharp, to respond when called upon. No rest, no reprieve.

With a groan, she peeled herself from the warmth of Aaron's bed--its soft, cloudlike mattress and the comforting weight of his arm. Stretching, she padded toward the tall window where the jaguar had entered his chambers last night.

As she moved, her skin began to shift, folding over itself in ripples. Brown and white feathers burst through, fanning over her shoulders and arms. Her fingers lengthened, narrowing into the graceful arcs of wings, while her face stretched, eyes widening into twin golden globes. In moments, an enchanting barn owl stood where a woman had been.

She launched into the morning air, her powerful wings cutting through the cool breeze. Passing her brother mid-flight, she caught his exasperated glance before he fell into formation beside her. Scouting duty. With the king's mistress. It was going to be a long day.

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Aaron reached out for her, finding only cool sheets. His jaw tensed. He'd hoped to keep her in his bed for at least three days. That was the least she could give him after so long apart.

Her scent still lingered, intoxicating. Wild berries and rainwater. Her taste still haunted his tongue from the moments he had pulled out of her warmth just to bury his face between her thighs, feasting until her cries broke apart into gasps. Sweet and salty--his human side craved the sugar, his jaguar craved the salt. She mingled both in equal measure, his perfect treat.

He'd taken many lovers. None of them had ever sated him the way Nia did.

But the council was growing restless. They wanted their king married. He had no desire for it, but... it was unavoidable. Still, the thought brought an unexpected impatience. Fine. He would wed their queen-to-be. She could stand at his side, wear his crown. But Nia... Nia would always be his.

A knock came at the massive double doors. "Enter," he commanded.

A ruby-skinned boy stepped inside, bowing as he placed a silver basin and a pitcher of water on the table. Aaron grunted. After a night like last night, that would hardly be enough. He was obsessively clean. He'd need more than a rinse. Waving the boy away, he rose fluidly from the bed, stretching his long, sculpted limbs.

The morning sunlight poured over him as he stepped to the window. He closed his eyes, basking for a breath, then leapt.

Mid-air, his body flowed into another form. A body sleek, muscled, lethal. The black jaguar landed soundlessly on the forest floor far below, paws sinking into the bed of leaves. Without pause, he padded toward the stream. He needed water. And soon.

----

Milei's dress fell in a heap at the riverbank, her bare skin shivering as she slipped into the cool, rushing stream. She'd been running since dawn, trying to burn off the restless anticipation knotting inside her. Tonight, she would marry the king.

She'd never seen him. Had only ever heard whispers. They called him The Jaguar. Her mother had once described his "felinity," whatever that meant.

The water lapped at her thighs, her hips, her breasts, sending shivers up her spine. She rose, droplets streaming down her skin as the breeze slid over her. Her nipples pebbled instantly, tightening and standing proud from her breasts. They were her favorite part of her body--long, sensitive, aching for touch.

She giggled to herself, rolling one between her fingers. The giggle caught halfway, tumbling into a breathy moan. A pulse of heat bloomed low in her belly, a damp ache between her thighs. She stilled her hand, chiding herself. Not now.

She finished her washing quickly, stepping back onto the grassy bank. But her dress was gone.

Her gaze darted up. It dangled from someone's fingers, swaying just out of reach.

She lunged for it, only for it to slip away. Again she tried, and again it evaded her. Frustration flared, her eyes narrowing into a glare at the thief...until she followed the line of the arm, the shoulder, the neck... and met a face so breathtaking it made the rest of the world fall away.

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Aaron's sharp hearing caught the rhythmic splash of water before he even reached the clearing. Through the lattice of leaves, he saw her--bathing in the narrow forest stream.

Her skin was the color of fresh honey, deepened by hours spent under the open sky. Her back arched in a soft, natural S, each movement sending little ripples over the dimpled hollows just above the lush curve of her hips.

She tilted her head back into the current, working her fingers through a wild tumble of dark hair. For a moment, Aaron thought she seemed untouched by the world. A sweet, unguarded thing-

Then she turned towards him, her hands sliding over her breasts, fingers circling and teasing her peaks.

His jaw slackened. For a moment, she looked like she was putting on a show for him, then he brushed it off. She wasn't looking at him...she couldn't be. In his jaguar form, he was soundless in the underbrush. She couldn't have sensed him.

Stepping back, he shifted into his human body, the air cooling briefly against his bare skin. He stepped into the clearing, stooping to pick up the thin scrap of fabric that was her discarded dress.

--

Milele froze mid-breath. The man before her was impossibly tall, shadows and sunlight playing over the hard planes of his body. She forgot she was naked. She forgot the waiting dress, her arranged marriage, even her mother's sharp voice calling her home for her bridal adornment.

Aaron's gaze lingered, slowly charting her from crown to toes. She was smaller than the women he usually favored, but her curves... gods, those curves. Her large, doe-brown eyes, the soft fullness of her lips, the way her collarbone tapered into the swells of her breasts--high, firm, heavy, tipped with deeper colored peaks that still gleamed with droplets. The memory of her playing with her breast replayed in his mind, and he felt himself begin to stir.

Nia had been the only woman in his bed for what felt like an age. He couldn't remember the last time another face had even tempted him. He'd never even considered taking a human lover before Nia. Their fragility put him off.

He inhaled deeply. No particular scent marked this one. She was Human. He grunted, relief and a tinge of disappointment flowing through him. She could never truly satisfy his hunger.

Without a word, he tossed the dress toward her and strode into the water.

Milele clutched the fabric to her chest, watching him wade away. A slow, aching pulse throbbed between her thighs, each step he took feeding the ache until she wanted to press her own hand there.

You are the King's bride. Behave yourself.

The thought cut through her mind like ice. She tore her gaze away, pulled her dress over damp skin, and ran home without looking back.

----

Nia burst into Aaron's bedroom, shifting into her human form just before she hit the floor. Her chest heaved, not from exertion, but from the swell of hurt and fury that had been rising since her father had shown her the royal invitation sent to their family.

She had spent the night in his bed. His arms, his scent, his body had been all around her, and he hadn't even told her that tonight was his marriage feast.

She knew he didn't love her. Not the way she loved him. But she had given him everything without hesitation. Couldn't she expect more than just the heat of his body?

Yes, it was a body she craved...the long, hard weight of him, the way his velvety thickness filled her until she lost herself. But she wanted more than his flesh. She wanted him.

By the time she stopped pacing, her breathing had grown shallow and her breasts ached with the pull of desire. Frustration warred with need, and she hated herself for it. Even in anger, her body answered him. She was his--his toy, his pleasure, his to use at will.

She sank onto his bed, spreading across the familiar sheets, impatience tightening every muscle in her. She wanted him inside her again. And she knew he would come.

---

The large hall was being decorated for the evening feast. Aaron was immensely grateful to the women who ran his household. They were so efficient that they never concerned him with such things; he only worried about maintaining peace in his kingdom and ensuring his people were happy and striving. He left them to it and started towards his chambers.

If he was candid with himself, though, even if he wasn't interested in the marriage, he was a bit curious about who his cabinet chose to be his queen. They knew him quite well; they all served his father before him and watched him grow. They were also fiercely loyal and loved him; he was certain they picked her out with the most care. She was probably a sophisticated, dainty beauty, high-born and of purple blood. He chuckled to himself at the glassy image his mind conjured.

Aaron felt her the moment he stepped into the hallway leading to his bedroom... Nia. He breathed in deeply and quickened his steps. A growl was starting to form in his throat. She was ready for him.

Nia's bird ears picked up the sounds of his footsteps as he approached. She could pick him from a crowd of men by the sounds of his footfall, the confident, unhurried stride of a man who was comfortable in his skin. They sounded faster than normal at the moment, though. Nia giggled; He knew she was waiting for him. The man who never ran was hurrying, just for her.

She felt all her previous misgivings and hurt float away. She might not own his heart, but she owned his body, and he would always run to her. Nia adjusted her necklace of pearls and feathers, combed her hands through her hair, and knelt beside the large bed. She knelt in a submissive posture, sitting on her hunches, her palms flat on her thighs.

Aaron was greeted with the magnificent sight of Nia on her knees. Her thick, kinky hair spread out behind her and hung down her shoulders. The pearls around her neck stood out against her dark, glowing skin. Her posture pushed out her small, firm breasts, and subconsciously, Aaron noticed how tiny they were. An uninvited vision of large honey-colored teardrop-shaped breasts crept into his mind, and he blinked to clear it. He focused on Nia's face, particularly her mouth. He thought of the elasticity of her throat, and his burgeoning erection stood at full mast. He threw off his fur cloak and ripped his shirt and pants off.

"I missed you," He reached for Nia and touched her cheek softly. His deep baritone voice spoke in a throaty whisper. He squatted beside her and kissed her forehead. "How was your day?"

Nia caught a sob in her throat. He was so sweet. He was equal parts rough and tender. His genuine care and interest in her made her feel less like a mere mistress. She felt like she had a real place in his life.

"My day was filled with thoughts of you, my Liege."

He smiled and stood before her. His hand on her face moved to her head, and he wove his fingers into her hair. "Show me."

Nia lovingly kissed the tip of his penis. He hissed his pleasure, rubbing her face with his fingertips and watching through lust-hazy eyes as she opened her mouth and swallowed his length.

Aaron's above-average length was almost completely buried in Nia's sticky, slimy throat as she bobbed her head furiously. His head was thrown back, guttural sounds escaped uninhibited from his lips, and his eyes were nearly blind with pleasure.

Somewhere deep in his consciousness, he noted that she was particularly aggressive; she seemed determined in her actions as if she was trying to leave an impression. She squeezed her throat around his cock, and he lost that line of thought.

His second hand gripped her head tightly when she squeezed again, and he rammed the remaining inches of his hardness into her throat. A light flashed behind his eyes, and he groaned loudly, emptying himself straight into her stomach.

Nia pulled her head off his cock and wiped her lips with a smirk. She had been too disturbed to eat lunch since she heard the news. Aaron's protein-rich spunk in her belly was enough to give her all the energy she needed to make sure he remembered her after his bride was handed to him that night. She giggled when he suddenly lifted her and threw her on his bed like she weighed nothing. The sweet, soft man who had touched her cheek and asked about her day was gone. She looked into his eyes, eyes completely black with arousal, as he moved in on her and flipped her over like meat. This was a total beast, and she was his prey.

---

Nia woke alone in Aaron's bed, disoriented. She blinked several times, trying to gather her thoughts. Off to the side of the mattress lay a sheer robe, folded neatly. She had never worn clothes in this room before; she had come in naked and had left the same way.

A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. She slipped into the robe and sat up, combing her fingers through the kinks in her hair.

"You may enter!" she called.

The double mahogany doors swung open, revealing a large, midnight-black man with eyes like smoldering embers. He carried a large ceramic bath, followed by a line of maids bearing bath items and carefully folded clothing.

"What is this, Darius?" she asked, nodding toward the heavy-set man as he set down the bath.

Darius turned his golden eyes to her, careful not to linger on her barely-covered form. He dipped his hands into the folds of his toga and produced a piece of parchment, handing it to her with a respectful bow before departing.

"Accept this as a token of my affection, my lovely Nia," the note read, penned in Aaron's own hand.

A burst of laughter bubbled from deep in her chest as she read it. Her gaze drifted to the maids, to the piles of jewelry, to the line of embroidered silk dresses, and warmth filled her chest. Sometimes she forgot just how lavishly he spoiled her when he chose.

She stepped into the bath as the maids began working on her kinky hair. She grimaced, apologetic. Her hair was wild and tangled, and she knew it would take hours to tame.

"Am I dining alone with your lord tonight?" she asked a maid scrubbing her foot.

The maid exchanged glances with the others, confusion flickering across her features.

"What is the matter? Am I missing something?" Nia asked, turning to the maid untangling her hair. "What's going on?"

Lowering her eyes, the maid spoke softly. "Tonight is our lord's marriage feast."

The world tilted. Everything rushed back: the invitation her family had received, the moments she had given herself to Aaron again, the way he had claimed her so thoroughly that all else fell away.

Her eyes roamed the jewelry and dresses again. He wanted her there. But why? Was he asking her to accept his marriage, or was he showing her off to his bride? She knew Aaron was neither cruel nor callous, but she silently hoped it was the latter.

--

Later, when Nia entered the Great Hall, the party in full swing, the glance she caught between Aaron and his bride would linger in her mind long after the night ended.