J A Saare, page 5
When he felt his sac tighten as his climax approached, he sank his teeth into the softness of her flesh, scoring her cleanly. She cried out and wrapped her arms around his waist, holding on as if she was afraid to let go. The metallic taste of her blood coated his tongue, warm and thick, and he continued driving into her until the last spasms of his release passed. The jaguar faded into the background, going silent, although he was aware of the loud purr that resounded in the room.
Mira remained as she was—an angel with fair skin, red hair, and a pink flush over her skin—as he stared at the circular wounds and gloried in what the deep punctures meant. The change was already taking place, creating a cat inside of her that would match his in strength, intellect, and possessiveness. When a line of blood trickled down her shoulder, he bent his head, traced the drop to her neck, and bathed the wounds with his tongue, taking care to soothe the savaged skin.
He felt his mate’s hands in his hair and nuzzled her chin when she whispered, “I’ve missed you. I couldn’t stand being away from you a minute longer.”
Moving away, he echoed the sentiment. “Me too.”
She grinned sheepishly. “I’m sorry I tricked you. You kept putting off your trip home, and after everything that happened . . .” Shaking her head, she shrugged. “I couldn’t wait.”
He frowned, knowing it was too late but needing to hear it. “No regrets?”
She paused and gazed up at him. “Just one.”
Time seemed to stop, and he swallowed thickly before he asked, “And that would be?”
The fingers in his hair forced his head down, until they were nose to nose. “That I waited so long.”
He started to respond when she interrupted him with a kiss, soft and sweet as opposed to hard and demanding, and pressed her breasts into his chest. As he felt his body respond, his length growing hard inside the haven of her body, he decided that the questions could wait.
Aside from Mira, nothing else mattered.
The End
About the Author
J.A. Saare is a multi-published author in varying genres and has written stories featured in horror magazines, zombie romance anthologies, and flash fiction contests. Her work has a notable dark undertone, which she credits to her love of old eighties horror films, tastes in music, and choices in reading, and have been described as “full of sensual promise,” “gritty and sexy,” and “a breath of fresh air.”
Currently she is penning numerous projects within the urban fantasy, erotic and contemporary, and of course, paranormal romance categories.
You can learn more about her at www.jasaare.com or explore her “naughtier” side by visiting her alias, Aline Hunter, at www.alinehunter.com.
Scott, J A Saare
