Leap of the Lion (The Wild Hunt Legacy #4)(58)

When her fingers curled around the wolf’s hand, Gawain had to suppress a growl. Mine.

“Your body wants to mate, lass.” Tynan kissed her fingers. “I would love to spend this time with you, but the choice is yours. Is there a male here ye fancy?” Tynan motioned to Gawain, Donal, and himself.

“No. I don’t want…” Darcy shook her head. “That’s a lie. I do want.”

Gawain smiled. How rare to find someone who faced up to his or her own feelings and even admitted them aloud? He motioned for Donal to speak.

“Darcy, the choice is yours.” Donal stroked her bare leg, letting her feel his skin, catch his scent. “You’re an amazing female, and it would be a delight to be with you.”

She leaned toward the healer, then stopped and looked at Gawain.

Mine. Gawain took her hand, and rubbed his scent over her fingers, inhaling hers. A purr escaped him because she smelled like mossy forests and intoxicatingly female. “Pretty panther, I want you more than I can breathe. But the choice is yours.”

The startled delight in her eyes was as charming as it was distressing. She’d never known the dance of flirtation, the give and take before mating, the growing anticipation in the day or so before the full moon. By the God and Goddess, damned if he wouldn’t do everything in his power to give her a first Gathering night to remember.

They all would. Even his female-hating brother wouldn’t be able to hold out against her sweetness.

She was starting to squirm, her color increasing. The scent of her arousal was heady. An experienced female would have already given in, chosen a male, and dragged him toward the mating rooms. But Darcy didn’t know enough to make a decision about her own needs, did she?

“I want…” She didn’t release his fingers.

A glance at the other two showed they agreed, and he realized he was purring louder.

He kissed her palm, then her wrist, inhaling and savoring the increase in her interest. Rising slowly, he leaned forward and took her lips. Soft and yielding, opening to his. Her skin had a heady flavor, spurring a need to taste her…everywhere. Drawing back slightly, he looked into her eyes and saw only desire. For him.


Darcy’s pulse thudded hard and fast in her ears. Each breath brought her the scent of the males—as intoxicating as the champagne she’d read about.

And their voices. Tynan’s Irish lilt held the patter of a soft rain; Donal’s velvety smooth voice was a slow, sliding caress.

Gawain’s resonant voice was the rumbling of a thunderstorm that shook her to the bone.

She gripped his hand, feeling the calluses. Those strong hands created useful, beautiful tools. And he could call upon the Mother of All. She’d never met anyone like him.

With each breath, she caught his scent—the wild musk of a male cat shifter with a tantalizing hint of smoke and metal. His shoulders were thick with muscle. Curly brown hair covered his broad chest, not quite hiding the flat male nipples, then narrowed to a line down his ridged stomach until reaching…

Startled, she jerked her gaze back up.

“Yes, I’m interested in mating,” he said gently and drew her to her feet. The strength of his arm that curled around her waist made her knees go weak.

He led her away from the fire to a tiny clearing, one barely large enough for the moon to illuminate the grassy space.

“What…what do I need to do?” she asked as he sat and drew her down to straddle his lap. His erection pressed against her stomach and sent hot shivers through her.

“You need to kiss me, sweetling,” he whispered. His big hand tangled in her hair and pulled her closer, until her mouth touched his. His lips were gentle, teasing, skilled.

Her breasts pushed against him, and his chest hair teased her nipples to an aching hardness. The entire world seemed as if it were tilting, so she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on.

He covered one breast with his hand and deepened the kiss. When he cupped the back of her head, holding her firmly as his tongue plunged in, the feeling of being taken swamped her senses.

Desire was a rising tide within her, sweeping everything before it, scouring away every thought and concern.

He moved, laying her on her back in the grass, and knelt beside her. His straight hair hung loose, shadowing his chiseled features. “You are so beautiful.”

Was she? She hadn’t wanted to be beautiful, hadn’t wanted to attract human attention, but now…she wanted to be beautiful for him. To please him. “So are you,” she whispered and made him laugh.

His low baritone melted her bones into hot puddles.

His lips grazed down her cheek, her neck, her upper breasts, and when his hot mouth closed on one nipple, the exquisite sensation was too much.

A tremor ran up her spine, and the urgency in her core grew and grew. “I need…” She couldn’t find the words. “I need.”

“I know, catling,” he murmured. “But have you had a male inside you before? Ever?”

“N-no.” What did that matter? Inside? All of her seemed to chime at that word. “Inside. Yes. That’s what I want.

His chuckle made her center clench. Should any male have such an amazing voice?

“Let me get you a bit more ready.”

He didn’t understand. She was perfectly ready and needed…something. Him. Now.

Running his hand down her stomach, he touched her private area and slid a finger between her folds. The intense pleasure stole the very air from her lungs.