Starlight Rapture [Starlight Ecstasy Book 1] Page 4

  "I ... uh...?"

  "I'll love you under the stars for one thousand and one nights. Are you up to it?"

  "I should rather ask you.” She narrowed her gaze.

  "I have no problems in that regard. Up is the only direction for me."

  "Ha! I rather think it would be down ... straight to hell."

  "Felinus have no hell, except of our own making. Besides down is a direction I rather enjoy, too."

  "You're naughty."

  "I do try."

  Sam heard a cat hissing and then moments later a great golden cat raced across the floor, followed by an even larger black cat with green eyes. The cat paused, glancing at them before winking. With a scrabbling of claws, he took off after the other cat.

  "That's Lenar. He and his mate like to play chasey.” John leaned into her, stroking Sam's nape with his tongue. “Before they get to it.” He laughed. “Seen enough?"

  "That area at the back, behind the shimmer-screen, what's in there?"

  "That's the holo-dance floor."

  "I can't see inside."

  "Of course not. What goes on in there is private. Very private."

  "What more can go on in there, that's not happening out here?"

  John laughed, then growled low at the back of his throat. “Ah, I forget you're a kitten, Sam. There is a whole world of more awaiting you."

  "I'm not a kitten."

  "To the felinus you are, until you have been initiated."

  "Initiated?” She didn't like the sound of that ... some ritual or something...

  "Yep. You'll know when you're ready.” He spread his hands. “I can't explain, it's something to be experienced on all levels."

  "What we've done already, that's not enough? I'm still a kitten?"

  "We've done very little, Sam,” John said.

  "There's more?"

  "Do you doubt it?"

  His tawny eyes were turbulent, she noticed. He was definitely up to something. Her temples pounded and her pussy responded, pounding with ... with ... Stars!

  John-Kuno smiled, a deep male smile that made her legs turn to jelly.

  "Now you're starting to realize, honey-cat. You scared?"

  Sam glanced about the room, then took his hand, raising it to her cheek. “No, I'm not scared. I want to know all there is to know. Live every moment."

  His eyes misted as he smiled. He placed a hand at the small of her back and escorted her through the maze of alcoves to the bar.

  "Greetings, Kuno,” the bartender said shimmying up to him.

  Sam lowered her eyes, studying the woman between her lashes because to gaze directly would have been too much.

  The felinus was over six feet tall and gorgeous. Frighteningly so. Her black hair, streaked with purple, hung in thick curls to her knees. Golden—everything about her was variations of the same color. She wore a clinging strapless gold two-piece jump suit, with layers of chains lying heavily around her hips and thighs. Her golden skin was lightly furred. Her amber eyes were large and framed by long turquoise lashes; her full mouth was bronze. As she leant towards John, revealing her more than adequate cleavage, she stroked his wrist with a golden talon. On each of her nails, Sam saw a diamond.

  The woman of gold flicked her lashes and purred.

  John flushed and Sam felt the vibrations race from her head to her heels and reach an apex at the juncture of her thighs.

  "Kuno, quan lo maser lar t'an.” She glanced at Sam, golden brow raised in enquiry.

  "Thanks for the welcome. Yep, it's been a long time. But what the hell have you done to your hair, Kareena?"

  Golden shook her head. “You don't like the black?"

  "Nope. I preferred you as a natural purple."

  "Then for you, darling, I'll change back.” Her attention flitted to Sam. “Who is the kitten?"

  Sam squared her shoulders and linked her arm in John's. “I'm Samantha."

  "A human?"

  "There's no need to insult me,” Sam whispered.

  "Ouch,” Golden said and laughed. “A kitten with a sting. Good for you, Kuno. Bad for me."

  "You'll survive, Kareena. I saw you playing tag with Lenar earlier. Where is he?"

  Sam, mouth agape looked from one to the other. That golden cat she had seen before, being chased—that had been Kareena?

  "Lenar is out back, nursing a bitten hand. He likes me to bite him did you know?"

  "Of course, he's felinus."

  Golden fluttered her lashes. “You like being bitten, Kuno?"

  "He does,” Samantha said leaning forward, arm resting on the bar, her hand over John's.

  "Then, kitten, see you bite him good and proper."

  Sam sniffed and tossed her head.

  John cleared his throat. “I made a reservation."

  "Yes. Your usual place. You want your usual everything?"

  "Thanks."

  "And the kitten?"

  "I'll have what John's having ... his usual,” Sam replied coolly.

  Golden raised a brow and smiled. “Think you can handle it, kitten?"

  Sam lifted her chin. “I can handle anything."

  John laughed. “That's very true."

  Kareena growled and dragged a talon over the smooth metal bar top. The resultant screech cut across the bubble of voices, earning protests from nearby patrons.

  John turned away and again, with a hand possessively at the small of her back, guided Sam across the room, to a curtained alcove adjacent to the dais. Once inside, he activated the laser-screen and it shimmered closed, isolating them.

  Furious, Sam slapped John hard on the hand. “That for starters you ... you..."

  "Reprobate?” he asked, rubbing his flesh. “That hurt."

  "You're gonna hurt even more, if you go anywhere near that woman again."

  "She's not a woman, she's felinus."

  "You know what I mean."

  "Do I? Are you laying claim to me."

  "All of you."

  His intense gaze silenced her. What had she just said that made him look at her so? Was it some felinus thing, or just a male thing?

  "If you lay claim to me, Samantha, it is a serious matter. Not to be entered into lightly."

  "You never enter lightly, John-Kuno."

  He had the good manners to actually blush at her double entendre. She wondered if the blush extended all over his body.

  John tugged off his jacket, shirt, and bent to remove his shoes.

  "What are you doing?” Sam asked breathlessly, her throat and stomach in knots.

  "I'm undressing."

  "I can see that you ... cat! But why?"

  "Well, it has been so long since I fucked you, perhaps you've forgotten. If I'm going to fuck you, honey-cat, then I do have to remove some clothing.” His heated gaze swept her from head to toe and back again. “Remaining dressed does pose some interesting possibilities. But I think I'll save that surprise for another day."

  John unzipped his trousers and slipped them down, first one leg removed, then the other, all the while keeping his eyes upon her. His erection was rigid against his stomach, the tip at his navel. She tried not to look.

  "I want you, Sam.” His whisper was low, more a growl.

  Sam took a step backwards. “I can't. Not here."

  "Whatever you say, honey-cat.” Laughing, he turned away and bent over, waving his hand across the mini-dispenser built into the table.

  Sam clenched her fists at his deliberate provocation: exposing his tight ass to her like that. Then she remembered that cats liked to play. He was teasing her. Cats liked to torment their victims...

  She was torn between wanting to run, and wanting to stay. Recalling Golden at the bar, Sam chose to stay. She'd prove to everyone she was no kitten!

  A short time later the dispenser purred—just like a bloody cat—Sam thought and John tugged out the delivered parcel. He tore open the metal wrapper and shook out a black silk gown. He shrugged on the caftan and lazily buttoned the clasps. He folded down onto
the cushions and lay back, propped up on his left arm.

  The dispenser purred again and another package appeared.

  "I took the liberty of ordering for you. Something to slip into, to make yourself more comfortable.” His smile was low, sexy and utterly devastating.

  Sam nearly fainted on the spot by the promises in the depths of his eyes, by the stroking of his long fingers on the cushion beside him.

  "Please wear it. For me.” He growled, eyes narrowed. “Please do as I ask."

  Oh God ... anything ... Sam nearly blurted, but bit the words back just in time.

  She carefully opened the parcel—she never was one to tear open gift-wrapping—and held up the gown. A caftan of green, shot with silver, red diamantes about the low bodice and hem.

  "It's beautiful."

  "It'll be more beautiful when you're wearing it. Please.” He exhaled, low and long.

  "If you keep purring like that, John-Kuno, you're going to get a sore throat."

  He grinned. “Not the only thing that'll be sore by tonight's end, I assure you."

  "You're bloody impossible."

  "Naturally, I'm a cat.” He lifted his chin, a silent entreaty for her to wear the caftan.

  Sam fumbled with the buttons of her dress. Her heart was beating so fast, the blood swirling in her veins. She couldn't think straight.

  She slipped off her dress and reached for the caftan.

  "Remove your underwear, Sammi,” he said. “Play fair."

  She paused. Sammi? She rather liked that. Their gazes locked and they smiled.

  Sam undressed, slowly, taking the time with each garment, teasing out the moment, like a stripper. And John watched every movement, his eyes narrowed, dark, lambent, but she sensed that he was as tense as a coiled spring. Had it confirmed by the tight line of his lips.

  She allowed no more than a flash of naked flesh before she smoothed the caftan over her body, shivering with delight as the silk caressed her skin. Sam shook out her hair, fluffing it to its meager length, wishing she had hair like Golden.

  "No you don't, honey-cat,” John said. “It'd get in the way."

  "You'd know would you?"

  "Jealous, Sammi?” John smiled tightly. “I like Kareena, we're friends, but lovers? Never."

  "Why?"

  "She's not my type."

  "Not your type? What are you suddenly a eunuch? She's every man's type."

  "Not mine, Samantha. I prefer spitting blonde honey-cats.” He stroked the cushion beside him. “Now, come here."

  Sam tossed her head and folded her arms. “What if I refuse?"

  "I'll come to you.” He lifted a fraction from the cushion. “Come to me. Come with me."

  "Ah ... Stop doing that."

  His look was all innocence. “What is that, honey-cat?"

  "Peppering your speech with sexual innuendos."

  "You don't like my game?"

  "It's not that I don't like it, it's just that ... ah hell!"

  Outside a small sound, like a wind chime tinkling in the breeze distracted her.

  "Enter,” John said.

  The shimmer-screen opened and Golden stepped through, carrying a tray with two stemmed glasses, a decanter and a large covered bowl. Kareena halted, her gaze narrowing at Sam. She inclined her head to her, then to John.

  "Now I understand, Kuno. The kitten is lovely."

  Sam's mouth gaped. This woman was calling her lovely?

  Kareena bent down and placed the tray on the table, her full breasts all but spilling from her bustier. Straightening, Golden-woman turned to Sam and put her hand, talons extended onto Sam's wrist.

  "He is very lucky to have you. You are lucky to have him. Be happy."

  The shimmer-screen closed behind her, leaving Sam staring after her.

  "She's got a good heart,” John said.

  "She's got a good everything!” Sam retorted.

  "Now, where were we?” John furrowed his brow. “Ah, a little matter of where you're going to sit. But please. I'm hungry and thirsty and Kareena makes the best shovan in the galaxy."

  Shovan. Sam had heard of it. Felinus liqueur—rare, expensive and off-limits to humans because it could lift the hair from the scalp before it turned one inside out with its potency.

  John was busy pouring it into the glasses on the tray. She stepped closer, sniffing. Nothing. She was disappointed. She had expected shovan to have a piquancy to match its reputation, but the clear liquid was innocuous.

  She sat down cross-legged on the cushion opposite John and took the glass he proffered. She raised it to her lips.

  "Careful, honey-cat. Just a sip at a time until you get used to it."

  "Is it the drink you're talking about, or something else ... someone else?"

  He grinned and inclined his head.

  Samantha snorted and swallowed a mouthful. She turned inside out. Fire tore through her veins. Its taste was like honeyed mead, with cinnamon and ginger and vanilla and sandalwood and nameless, unknown alien herbs and spices. She felt the hair at her nape stand on end and every desire, every sensation she had ever experienced, ever dreamed existed, or dared to imagine in her naughtiest moments, swept through her.

  She set the glass on the table. “Bloody hell."

  John roared with laughter. “And that's not her most potent drop. She's diluted it for you, so you're not overwhelmed."

  "Overwhelmed? I'm shattered!"

  "Not yet, but you soon will be. Come here, Sammi."

  She crawled forward, teasingly slow, her hands and knees stroking against the plush velvet.

  Stopping before John she leaned forward and kissed him, leisurely, deliberately.

  He breathed into her, his tongue merging with hers.

  "You dance the oral very well, Sammi,” John said pulling back from her, licking his lips.

  "Dance the oral?"

  "A translation from felinus to human, except sometimes it doesn't make much sense."

  "I know, don't tell me—you have to experience it to understand."

  "Exactly so. Dance the oral with me again, Samantha.” His hand at the back of her head guided her to him. Their tongues merged, joined sinuously, broke apart, returned, like dancers. She began to understand.

  Sam lifted herself onto his lap, the caftan bunched around her thighs. His hands supported her bottom, bringing her closer. He bent his head to her neck, his lips slipping lower, his mouth sucking and nipping. Through the sheer silk of the gown he took first her right nipple and then the other into his mouth, laving and loving. Sam rocked against him, mimicking the dance of sex; his right hand cupped her pussy, his left hand cupped her bottom, his fingers joining at her apex, stroking every part of her body between her thighs.

  Sam reached down, pulled open the ties of his caftan and bent her head to his neck. She bit, she teased his earlobe and swirled her tongue inside. He groaned and shivered, but all the while his mouth and fingers plundered, seduced and enflamed her.

  She bit his flesh and then moving upward, poised over the tip of his cock, then lowered down. Slowly, a fraction at a time, she found his length. Hot, hard, adamant.

  Sam unclasped the thong at his nape and smoothed out his hair, lacing her fingers in its golden length as she rode him.

  They moved as one, sometimes fast, sometimes languid.

  The first climax rocked them to the core.

  Sam was dimly aware that he lifted her, lowering her to the cushions, bringing her legs to his shoulders. He bent down and loved her with his tongue, lapping, kissing, sucking, the occasional bite to her inner thigh.

  He licked once more and stopped, breathed against her tumescence, cooling. Edging down, he rested against her, his gaze consuming her.

  His hands beneath her buttocks lifted her, positioning her for that movement where he would touch the secret inner place known only to those of his kind. The place that made her erupt like a supernova...

  His cock probed to the right, withdrew, returned and pressed. She screamed.
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  He pulled back, plunging deep into her center.

  She sobbed.

  He nudged this time to the left, aiming straight and true, no preliminaries.

  She could not speak.

  Comets streamed past her as he loved her, finding those zones again and again that no human could touch ... starlight ecstasy ... but this time with more intensity. Their bodies shone with golden light, it submerged into their skin, swirling through their veins, engulfing every cell. Behind her tightly clenched eyelids she saw yellow stars, rayed suns spreading outwards.

  The world shattered as she shattered; as he shattered.

  He held her to the pinnacle; she gasped as his mind stroked hers, as his flesh stroked her from inside out.

  Linked in body they now experienced a deeper union: the mind. Wave upon wave of pleasure passed through them, shared, heightening until the release—shared between them. They purred. Screams were so deficient. The purr of a cat could only describe the intensity of the climax...

  Purrrrr, she mimicked.

  "The kitten has found her voice, at last.” Purrrrr.

  Sam opened her eyes and saw John and for a moment his tawny eyes became the cat: glowing, citrine, slitted...

  He whispered: “Kuno, querel an far nat!” For you ... only for you.

  Samantha wept with the gift, with the joy, the pleasure, the ... everything. She wept for him and for herself. Because it was too much to bear. Because having been touched like this, she could never be the same again.

  The touch of the cat—having known it, no mere human could ever satisfy her.

  She rolled into John's embrace. “Can we do that again, Kuno?"

  He lowered his head and his body and probed; converged.

  * * * *

  "Honey-cat?” His whisper caressed her temple.

  "Mnnn.” Slowly, she opened her eyes. How long had she been unconscious? That last convergence had tipped her over the edge.

  They shared a smile, a caress of mind to mind, like a strand of warm silk flowing between them: images and words became one.

  He nudged her cheek with his. “It is the felinus gift, this mind-speak."

  Sam sighed. “Another gift? I have nothing to give you."

  His smile became a frown. “Nothing? This isn't a contest, Samantha.” For the first time since she had known him, his voice was tinged with ice. “Besides, you give me everything of yourself. A man can ask no more."