Leap of the Lion (The Wild Hunt Legacy #4)(95)

Both males were purring.

So was she.

Fingers curved unyieldingly around her hips, Owen penetrated her, withdrew, and continued, slowly, relentlessly increasing the speed.

Stone by stone, her need built to a mountain in her body.

Then Gawain made a low sound and twisted her hair around his hand to hold her still. “Give us a second, brawd.” His voice was hoarse.

Owen paused.

“Sweetling, if you continue, I’ll fill your mouth with my seed.” Gawain’s heated gaze met hers, giving her time to object.

Oh yes. She wiggled her delight and nodded.

Gawain’s eyes lit, and as he tugged her head down, he pumped in and out of her mouth in short fast strokes. As Owen held her hips still, Gawain’s cock hardened, thickened. She heard a rumbling groan of pleasure, and then his shaft was jerking in her mouth. The taste was intense, salty and musky, and she swallowed it down.

The grip on her hair loosened, and he stroked her head gently.

Lifting her head, she used her tongue to capture the last drops and lick him clean. “Mmm.”

His eyes were half-lidded and satisfied. “Thank you, pretty panther.” He guided her head down so she could rest her cheek on his flat belly. Closing his hands on her shoulders, he said, “Go, brawd.”

Owen chuckled and lifted her hips higher for still greater penetration. He pulled out, sank in, and slowly, steadily increased the pace.

As the driving rhythm set up a merciless throbbing, she clenched around him. She wanted more. Wanted to rock back and forth, but he gripped her hips, and Gawain held her shoulders. As the exquisite torment grew, she could do nothing but moan.

Leaning forward, Owen bit the nape of her neck, holding her lightly with his teeth. His hand reached between them down to her clit. His finger slid roughly over the sensitive nub with each plunge of his cock.

Everything faded except his thrusts and his finger on her clit. Every stroke and thrust increased the pleasure until she hovered at the heights of the most devastating sensation she’d ever known.

Then, he somehow rotated his hips, and his shaft struck a new place inside her. His ruthless finger pressed on her clit.

Everything within her stopped—even the planet came to a halt, then her world erupted into great, glorious spasms of pleasure, exploding outward until the very sky seemed filled with stars and the earth itself disappeared from under her.

As her core spasmed around the hard shaft, Owen pressed deep, deeper, and she could feel him inside her, filling her with his seed.


In the high mountain valley, the air was chill, yet the sun beat warmly against Owen’s skin. Sound asleep, Darcy lay with her head on his brother’s shoulder, pressed against his side, her breathing deep and slow. Cupping Darcy’s soft breast in one hand, Owen was curled behind her. He propped his head up on his free hand and drank in the moment. Each breath brought him the fragrance of sex, of this little female, of his littermate, mingling in a way that sent an ache through him. This was why a male lived. Why he fought. To win a female’s love and keep her safe.

For this female—for Darcy—he would willingly fight the entire world.

As he looked at Gawain, his contentment deepened. An arm behind his head, his littermate was watching Darcy, satisfaction almost humming from him.

They’d not only shared a female for the first time in decades, but that female was Darcy. She’d liked being with them both. Had cried out her pleasure. And snuggled between them with as much trust as an unweaned kitten.

Had any female ever trusted him so deeply? Had he ever wanted one to?

But Darcy…she was special. So amazing. He loved her ability to laugh, even at herself. Her courage to stand up to him when he was wrong. Her honesty. Her intelligence. Her loyalty to the people she’d left behind. She would show that same loyalty to her cubs. What a fearsome, amazing mother she would be.

What a mate.

But…would she want him? For more than just being God-chosen? Owen wasn’t charming. Wasn’t particularly good-looking, especially with all the scars he’d accrued over the years.

Then again, Darcy knew him better than any female ever had. She’d seen past the cahir legend to the grumpy, blunt male beneath, and she’d still mated with him when the moon wasn’t full.

Did she realize he’d give her the same loyalty he wanted from her?

“I want to keep her,” Owen said, his voice barely audible even to shifter ears. “Make her ours.”

“Yeah,” Gawain whispered. “We should keep her. She needs us.”

“Do you think she’d want to…? Does she…? How do we make her want to stay?”

Gawain’s lips tipped up. “The question she’ll ask, brawd, is if you love her.”


Darcy was having a happy dream, playing near a lake with two big males. The three of them were chasing each other’s tails, batting at ears with soft paws. Hiding in the grass and playing pounce.

A hand jostled her. “Darcy.”

One male caught her between his huge paws and the other leaped over her. So fun. Her heart swelled because these were her lifemates, the ones she’d dreamed of forever.

Only…they weren’t. These panthers weren’t average-sized and sleek. They were huge.

She frowned as her shoulder was shook again.

“Wake up, kitten.”

There was such a lovely scent around her. Musky male scents were blended with the fragrance of mating. Mating? Her eyes popped open.