STARLIGHT DESIRE Read online

  Holo-images on the walls changed color in time with the beat of the music. Blended with the sea theme of pearls, coral reefs and dolphins, overlaid with pulsing images of stars and galaxies, were her symbols of paints, brushes and exotic gardens. Racing through the holo-flowers were two cats, one golden, the other honey-colored.

  Someone had a warped sense of humor--it smacked of John-Kuno, that little touch.

  As they entered the room, Sam's eyes adjusted to the muted purple and red lights. She caught the pheromone-scent of felinus. The place was wall to wall shifters, some in human form, many in their morphed personae. A tentacle or two waved a greeting to them.

  "Lenar!" John extended his palm to a young man.

  "Kuno." Lenar was a golden-haired, golden-skinned felinus, his magnificent body clad only in a gold kilt. His eyes the deepest emerald, sparkled with mischief.

  "Len, I'm glad to see you dressed for the occasion," John said.

  "I wanted him to wear a g-string," Kareena retorted.

  "It'd take more than one g-string to hide my assets, Kari-kitten."

  "Exactly my point, babe."

  Lenar's palm outstretched to Sam and she had no hesitation in returning the traditional greeting. Except Lenar tickled her wrist with a fingertip as he withdrew his hand. Beside him, in a vibrant crimson jumpsuit, with her purple hair streaked with red, Kareena was stunning. The couple hurt the eyes, they were so beautiful.

  "I told you it would happen one day, Kuno," Kareena whispered in her throaty voice. "He didn't believe me that his blood would mate-stir. Do you know what he told me, kitten? He would never have a mate." She rolled her eyes for emphasis and batted her purple lashes. "Cats! They only think with one part of their anatomy--if you can call it thinking!"

  "John-Kuno thinks very thoroughly," Sam offered.

  Lenar blushed.

  John cleared his throat.

  Kareena stroked her red nail over Sam's wrist. "Kitten."

  There was a world of meaning in that one word--and Sam understood. A woman talking to another…

  Then Kareena's eyes narrowed as she looked over Sam's shoulder.

  "Oh, that damn cat! I told him not to sit on the bar. He does it on purpose, marking it with his scent. You have no idea how hard it is to get rid of it!" Kareena stormed off.

  Amused, they watched her weave through the crowd.

  Sam peered. Even in the gloom, she could make out that this cat was different--a cross between a lynx and something else. The sitting cat was nearly three feet tall, his cinnamon fur, black-tipped. His ears were long, pointed and wisps of black fur extended several inches beyond the ears. On each side of his face, a black line of fur traced from nose to eye to ear. His eyes were obsidian, inscrutable. Catching her gaze, the cat winked at her.

  Kareena reached the cat, swatted him. The cat opened its mouth to reveal a formidable set of teeth, but refused to budge.

  "Only Kareena would dare slap one of them," Lenar said. "Excuse me, I'd better be peacemaker. You know how Kari can be sometimes."

  Sam saw the cat lift onto his back legs and butterfly-shaped wings extended from the creature's back. A cat with wings!

  She gaped. Wings made of fur--cinnamon, streaked with black. The cat flapped his wings once and launched into the air.

  People ducked as the cat flew through the room, just missing the tops of heads. Some swatted playfully at the cat as it swooped down.

  Sam twisted around, watching. A cat who could fly! Just when she thought she had seen it all, the felinus were surprising her.

  She glanced at John, saw his grin, humor dancing in his eyes.

  "That cat is flying," she said.

  "Taren is an excellent flyer. Pity about his manners."

  "You know him?"

  "Very well. I was fostered in his home for five years."

  "Fostered?" Sam asked, her mind reeling. She had been fostered, too, many times--but now was not the time to tell John.

  "Mmm. Things were difficult between my father and me, we're too much alike."

  "Oh, arrogant, overbearing, demanding?"

  "Sexy?"

  Samantha snorted. John didn't want to talk about it, and so he changed the subject. Typical. "Where did that cat go? I want to see those wings."

  John put his hand on her wrist. "You mustn't touch any without permission, Sammi, especially an Avenor."

  Avenor? The closest translation might be cat-wing. She studied the cat who was now perched on top of a column, peering down at the crowd. "Cat-wing? Is that what he is?"

  John shrugged. "Among other things."

  "What other things?"

  "Control your curiosity, Sammi, it'll get you in trouble."

  "It already has, answering cryptic emails from you."

  John smiled. "Me? Trouble?" He leaned into her.

  "Yes, trouble. I can control myself, unlike some I can name."

  John raised his brow. "Tonight is not for control, Sammi! Out of control is so much better, honey-cat, especially with you. Wait and see." He placed his hand at the small of Sam's back and ushered her away to a corner beside the bar.

  The bartender placed two crystal goblets of shovan on the counter.

  Sam sipped it and her hair stood on end. "It's…"

  "Yep, full strength. Kareena's special recipe. Guaranteed to make you very aware."

  An understatement. Sam's every cell was humming and what she most wanted to do in that moment was fling John back against the bar and feegle him senseless.

  John smiled. "Promise?"

  "Mmmm."

  "Kuno, saer-tan."

  John started at the deep male voice. He turned, smiling. He held out his palm and from the shadows a felinus emerged.

  Shock washed over Sam, and she gripped the bar as she tottered on her heels.

  He was felinus. He was much more. He had called John saer-tan. Brother-mine. Who was he?

  Beautiful as only a shifter could be, and dressed in black leather from neck to toe, his aura was of dark, restrained danger. His cinnamon-colored hair, streaked with black, and threaded with beads and feathers, hung to his waist. From the outer tip of each of his eyebrows a black stripe extended upwards, connecting with the black-striped hair at his temples. He had a closely-cropped beard--the first shifter she had seen with one.

  His left arm was tattooed from wrist to shoulder. In the gloom, Sam couldn't make out the design.

  She took all this in at a glance because it was his wings that took her attention, when she realized through the delay of her shocked senses that he had wings…

  Fur wings, striped with ginger-gold and black.

  The felinus's gaze slanted to her. He smiled and bowed his head, holding out his palm. Sam swallowed and placed her palm to his.

  He measured her in that touch.

  As she measured him.

  Assassin.

  She swallowed again, her throat tight and dry.

  "I am honored by your presence, Taren." John bowed.

  "To witness the Desire for the one who told me he would never mate? To meet the woman who showed you the error of your ways, brother-mine, do you think I would not be here?" His smile was electric. He flicked back his hair, in a gesture similar to Harimal, but not teasing. This guy meant business.

  "Well, I'm glad you're here," John said.

  Turning, the felinus bowed to Sam, his right hand over his left breast. "You are Samantha. Be welcome. I am Taren and I am at your service."

  Sam understood. When a felinus offered service, it was never done lightly and it lasted for life. This felinus was an assassin. How could she know it, but she did.

  "Taren is a cat-wing," John said. "I won't try to pronounce the word, it sounds like a screech of metal against metal."

  Taren unfurled his wings and shook them. "Only for you will I allow the discourtesy. I am not a cat-wing, but a…"

  Yeouch. Yep, John was right, but 'screech' didn't do the sound justice.

  Taren lowered his wings, carefully fo
lding them back. He studied her again and Sam held her ground as his dark gaze probed her.

  "Assassin, kitten, is not a pretty word. I prefer to be called a policeman."

  And that said it all, Sam thought. Layers of meanings--again.

  "Sammi knows about policemen," John said coyly.

  She sniffed disdainfully, remembering their cop and robber sex-game recently played. She cleared her throat. "I've never heard of cat…cats with wings. You glamour yourselves?"

  "When we must interact with strangers, yes."

  Sam turned to John. "And this is how you learnt those killing points, from…from…?"

  Taren ruffled his wings. "Please call me by name. I won't bite. Even if you beg me."

  "Uh, yes." Sam felt her flush extend from her head to her toes as the two men regarded her in shocked silence. "I mean no, I don't want you to bite me."

  "Kuno, you have told your mate about the sarensen?" Taren lifted his dark brow.

  "Yes."

  Sarensen? Sam struggled to interpret. The killing points…

  Taren nodded. "Appropriate. The kitten needs her claws against you."

  "Sam is fully armed already."

  "You treat him mercilessly?"

  Samantha nodded. "When he begs for it."

  Taren laughed. His face transformed. His black eyes lit with amber. Such a creature could be worshipped as a god…a winged cat-god.

  Then he bowed and moved away and Sam watched, noticing that his suit at the back was cut away, so that his wings could rest comfortably against his body.

  "Oh man!" She took a sip of shovan.

  "No, oh cat!" John said leaning against the bar, his eyes glowing with delight.

  "You have any more surprises, Kuno-John?"

  "Was Taren a surprise?"

  "That's an understatement." Her senses were still reeling from the encounter. And the night had only just begun. "Oh, God! No!"

  "What's wrong, kitten-mine?" John's hand gripped her arm, drawing her closer.

  "Look."

  John followed her horrified glance and smiled, holding out his palm. In response, a purple tentacle slid over it.

  Sam flinched inwardly as the lobster-man turned a red, beady eye to her. Swallowing her fear, she lifted her palm and the tentacle caressed her flesh.

  She smelt the sea, fresh air, spices as the tentacle touched her in a warm, gentle stroke.

  "Welcome, kitten-sister. Kuno, it's a happy day for me."

  "Thank you, Cewertyl." John inclined his head. "It's a happier day for me, I assure you."

  "I can see that. Your aura is glowing."

  Sam snapped her gaze back to John. She saw what the crayfish was saying. Oops. She blushed at her own words.

  "I know you meant no disrespect, kitten. I am a crayfish, of sorts. Please to understand that tentacles can be so expressive, given the right circumstances and the right partner. Speaking of whom, I see that Charis wants me, so forgive me, I must take my leave." Seven purple tentacles waved in the air around him as he scurried across the room to reach the side of the crystal winged woman--the couple Sam had seen the first night at Rendezvous. She blushed to remember.

  "Not so scared of tentacles now, Sammi?"

  "No, he was very kind."

  "Kind?" John laughed. "He's a reprobate. He'd insert those tentacles anywhere, given half the chance."

  Sam did not doubt it, knowing the proclivities of shifters. "But I want to know about Taren and the cat-wings. Does he have a mate?"

  "Yes. Why do you ask? You want to bed him?"

  Sam slapped his thigh. "No, I do not. I just don't see her here."

  "You won't. Female wings never leave home."

  "Why of all the chauvinistic...macho..."

  "Sam, you misunderstand. They remain through choice and duty. They rule their world and guard it. You think the male is the deadliest of the species? In this instance the female is more ruthless." He grinned. "I think I should keep you from talking to Taren's mate. She'd give you too many pointers. You know how to disarm me enough already."

  "Do I?" She stroked her nail over his wrist. "I can't imagine that I do. I'll have to practice on you and see."

  John groaned. "I was afraid of that. You want to practice now?" He leaned into her.

  "Oh," Sam whispered. His hot hard length burned through her clothes. "Maybe. Just for a short time."

  "A quickie, do you mean?" He snorted. "I never do it quick."

  "No, you're slow and thorough and…"

  Devastating? Ah, I caught the word before you had time to stop yourself! His laughter rippled through her mind. Why, thank you, I try to devastate.

  Stop reading my mind!

  Well, stop broadcasting such naughty thoughts.

  Laughing, again, John took her hand and led her away.

  "But won't we be missed? I mean you are the reason for the party, Kuno."

  He turned to her and brushed his cheek against hers. "We are the reason for the party, honey-cat. It takes two to tango."

  "Uh, yes…"

  "You are doubtful?"

  "And what about your…the desire thing. I mean if we give in to this, won't it bring on that sickness again?"

  "If I deny myself, it'll be worse."

  "What about your legendary control?"

  He frowned. "Legendary? Who's been talking to you?"

  Sam toyed with the fire-opal in his left lobe. "You always tell me I need more control. So, here's a test."

  "Like bloody hell. Sam, there's control, and there's control, and I can hold the Desire and channel it. Once we reach Chizan, then I will be able to give myself completely to the Desire and gift it to you."

  Her mouth went dry. "You haven't given yourself completely to me?"

  "No. I must enter the mutatis…another rite of passage. Once that's done, then you'll have me truly."

  "I…I'm overwhelmed."

  John grinned. "Not yet. But you will be, one day very soon." He leaned into her and laughed-growled and purred as Harimal had done. Except Hari hadn't aimed for annihilation. Sam staggered.

  He led her onto the holo dance floor.

  Immediately the swirling colors and the rose scent relaxed her. Sam closed her eyes and imagined a place, a secret magical garden with rose trees trailing flower-laden canes over a tranquil lake. Hundreds of blossoms floated over the water, sending scents spiraling into the warm air.

  In the distance was a marble temple, a mix of Egyptian and Greek, with dancing cats, one gold, the other honey-colored, painted over its surface.

  "Ah kitten-mine, you image very well. It's your artistic talent. Beautiful!"

  She opened her eyes and smiled, reached up and rubbed her cheek against his in the felinus touch. He purred in the back of his throat and that vibration melted her bones, melted her female core, making it flood with desire.

  John swept her up in his arms and in a blink of an eye he was within the temple, depositing her on a low couch. He tugged off her boots, her trousers, her clothes falling away, peeled off in quick succession. He unlaced the bustier, swearing in exasperation.

  "Laces are well and good, kitten, but bloody impossible when your hands are shaking. You've turned me to mush."

  She laughed. "Not yet, I haven't."

  He tipped her back onto the couch, kneeling between her splayed knees.

  "Kuno…"

  He lapped.

  "Kuno…"

  "That's my name." He lapped some more and nuzzled her with his tongue. He probed to the left, he probed to the right, and delved inside her, his finger finding the center point while his tongue found the right. She lifted off the couch.

  Sam laced her fingers in his hair, twisting her hips, letting him plunder her. The silence hung about them, intense, punctuated by the erotic sounds of the slap and suck of his mouth upon her. He purred against her heated flesh, then growled, then nipped. Her fingers tightened in his hair.

  "You like that, kitten-mine?"

  She rolled her head from sid
e to side, delirious, unable to speak.

  "Cat got your tongue?" John teased and bent to his lathing with the gentlest intensity.

  "John…stop! Please." He lifted his head and she met his gaze, saw his almost out of control look. "I want to do this to you, while you're doing it to me. Please."

  "You would gift this to me?"

  "I want to love you in a thousand and one ways, Kuno. I want to taste you, cat-boy. Now."

  He smiled and stood up, peeling off his clothes, stepped out of them to reveal his engorged, ridged cock. John lifted her to her feet and lay down on the couch, brought her over him.

  She turned, shimmied down to his erection, grasping the thick base in her right hand. She gently probed the slit with her nail and a bead of essence erupted. Slowly she curled her tongue over the head and took the pearl into her mouth.

  John's body shivered as her tongue tip lathered his length.

  His hands spread her thighs and he moved, finding her own honey. They loved one another in tandem. His fingers sought the nether lips, her nub, while his mouth loved her, his fingers stroked and teased and pressed, finding those pleasure points.

  Sam took him into her mouth, as deep as she could go, then retreated, nipped up the skin that tasted of musk and felt like velvet.

  "Honey-cat?" John's raw whisper.

  "Mmm."

  "Just a little to the right, closer to the base."

  "Here?"

  "No. Lower."

  "Here?"

  "Aiyeee."

  Sam smiled against his turgid flesh. Hit the spot. She lapped him ruthlessly.

  Slowly, the passion built and they each struggled to contain it. Control. The word echoed between them.

  Nectar flowed between them--a gift each to the other.

  John slid away, to lie over her, nipping her skin along the spine from neck to buttocks. Then his cock teased into her, expanding as he settled deeply. He laced his fingers with hers, holding his weight from her with his knees. He flexed inside her. Sam cramped her inner muscles, holding him tight. As he drew back, she clenched her muscles even tighter, the friction, the pressure delicious and extreme.

  John inhaled, holding his breath, then releasing it slowly. "Hold me tight and never let me go, kitten. Ah. You're killing me," he whispered against her ear.