Page 20 of Freeing Her Cheetah


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The vampires bowed out of coming with me. For some reason, they found great humor in the battle I was about to fight. Well, Ryker did; it’s hard to tell what Bash is feeling. His lips twitched, so I think he agreed with Ryker.

“Elijah, get your ass in here,” Saylor yells inside the house.

I don’t try to hide the grin as I open the door. “Have you been a bad girl, Kitty Cat,” I purr.

“Where the hell have you been?” she demands.

She’s standing with her hands on her hips. Penny is behind her glaring at me. Bishop and Laken are on either side of Penny. Laken looks as if he wants to laugh, and Bishop shakes his head at me. That's not a good sign.

“I told you. I had to go hunting.” Should I not find her entirely desirable when she’s pissed?

“That tells me nothing,” she spits, stalking to stand in my space. “You have no idea what I have been through. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long fucking time. I don’t need you to treat me like a child, patting me on the head, telling me to be a good girl, and going to take care of the men's work.” She stands on her toes, shouting, “We are not mated yet. You are not in charge of me, cheetah. Just because you gave me three orgasms doesn’t mean you get to decide anything about my life!”

Laken loses the fight, choking on the air. Bishop chuckles, and Penny gasps.

I take in my mate’s flushed skin, the rapid beat of her heart, and the smell of her fury, mixed with arousal. I sigh, bend, put my shoulder to her stomach, grab her around her knees, and swing her over my shoulder.

“Thanks for taking care of her,” I offer the dragons and turn to the door.

“Why do guys do that?” Penny asks.

“Because we can,” Laken says.

“That’s not the right answer,” she says, snarkily.

The warm woman must have been in shock, but as I get down the steps, she gains her composure.

“Elijah, put me down right now,” she grits. Her hands are bunched in my shirt.

“No.”

“Elijah, I’m so fucking serious,” she continues.

“So am I, Kitty Cat,” I drawl.

“I can’t believe this,” she whispers to herself.

“Believe it.”

“You realize when you put me down, I’m going to knee you in the balls and run.”

“I want you to try,” I growl.

“Shit, I am a grown woman,” she yells, kicking with her legs.

I use my free hand to spank her ass, fast, twice. She freezes. “I don’t want to drop you, so be good.”

“You just spanked me,” she gasps.

“I did.” I pat her ass lightly in the same spot. “If you want me to do it more, we can discuss it later.” Her offended tone doesn’t change the scent of pleasure mingling with it.

As I put her down gently in the living room, I expected her anger. I didn’t expect the tears in her eyes fighting to fall.

“What did you do?” she whispers.

I can deal with her fury. I cannot deal with her sadness and fear.

She is my mate. Her honest emotion reaches a neglected place in my heart that hasn’t seen the light for years.

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