He realized he still had his slippers on and worked his way out of them so he could untangle himself from the welter of pants and underwear around his feet. While his face was buried in his shirt, something hot and electric moved across his chest. Her mouth. She kissed his nipples, sending a jolt of white heat to his groin. He escaped from the shirt and tossed it onto a seat. “If you do much more of that, we will never make it to our cat forms.”

She looked up at him, beautiful in muted light that played through the gazebo windows. “I’ve never done that before.”

He was so hot, thinking wasn’t easy. “Done what?” His tongue felt thick and uncooperative.

“Made love in my other form.” She cocked her head to one side. “Have you?”

“Yes, but not with another shifter. I have sometimes spent months as a cat, living as they do.”

She tilted her chin up. “You’ll be helping me? I…”

“Your cat will know what to do. Trust her.”

“I don’t know.” Tamara grinned ruefully. “She’s been mighty quiet these past few minutes. No clamoring to get out. No commentary at all.”

He spanned her waist, reveling in her silky skin, and then moved upward to tease her breasts. Warm and firm, with pebbled nipples, they felt as if they belonged in his hands. She moaned and pressed into his touch. Sandwiched between their bodies, his cock twitched and jumped, reminding him of its need.

He unzipped her jacket. Once it was off her shoulders, he pulled her stretchy top over her head and opened his arms. She wrapped hers around him and turned her face up for a kiss. He wanted everything. Kissing, hugging, fondling, fucking. He sank his tongue into her mouth and she sparred with it. He ran his hands down her naked back, found the taut globes of her ass, and pulled her hard against his erection. Lars groaned at her proximity; she felt so goddamned good. No one had ever felt like that before. Like they’d been born to be a part of him.

His breathing quickened as the mate bond spun its magic. The woman in his arms was everything he’d ever dreamed of. Reluctantly, he lifted his mouth form hers. “It is time,” he said, voice harsh with passion and unfulfilled need.

She stepped back; the air around her shimmered and the sleek form of her mountain cat emerged. She padded around him, sniffing enthusiastically. On the second transit, she rasped her sandpaper tongue over his burning erection. He laughed. “If that is not a hurry up, I have never been on the receiving end of one. We can move out of doors, liebchen. The garden’s fence is solid. It will shroud us from view.”

He crossed the room in a single stride and pushed the door open. Tamara leaped through, made an acrobatic midair twist, and ended up on all fours facing him, tongue lolling. Lars reached for his cat from. Unlike Tamara’s cat, his had been champing at the bit for freedom. He knew what was about to happen and couldn’t wait.

Lars rubbed noses with Tamara. His cock was so taut, butting from its furred sheath, it was almost uncomfortable. He licked her snout. She licked back and then wove her head between his back legs and licked his cock shamelessly. The heat was so intense, he almost came. His cat jerked away from her questing tongue and licked her vulva. Things spun out of control fast after that. Animal sex wasn’t complicated. No foreplay. No hands to smooth or fingers to explore.

She planted her feet firmly and twisted her tail out of the way. He mounted her, sank his teeth into the side of her neck, and drove his cock all the way inside. The heat of her closing around him made him crazy with lust. Semen pumped out almost immediately, and kept on pumping.

She tilted her head back, yowling and screeching as a climax ripped through her. He plumbed her deeper and she contracted her muscles around him. They stood joined for long moments. He licked the place he’d bitten her neck; she turned her head and licked his mouth.

“We must remain like this until my erection goes down, liebchen.”

“Why?”

“Cat cocks have barbs. I will hurt you if I withdraw when I am this hard.”

She arched beneath him. He shifted more of his weight to his hind legs and listened while his cat and Tamara’s crooned to one another. It was sweet and tender and totally unexpected. The tension in his cock finally lessened. He tugged gently to loosen its grip on her pussy.

Once they were free, she purred; the sound was deep and throaty and made him feel on top of the world. She nudged him with her snout, cried, “Run with me,” and took off through Garen’s gated half-acre garden.

Lars bolted after her, impressed by both her speed and her agility. She weighed less than him by a good fifty or sixty pounds, and she led him a merry chase in, out, and around bushes, flowers, and decorative shrubs. When she finally drew to a halt, panting, sides heaving, he dropped to his belly before her and rolled over in mock surrender. “You win, liebchen.”

“I don’t know about winning, but that was fun.”

“Ready to be human again?” When she nodded, he got to his feet, summoned magic and shifted. The air around her glistened with iridescent motes in the rain. Tamara stepped out of them, rosy and smiling, and right into his arms.

“It was fun,” he said. “It has been long since I played—at anything.”

“Sure and life can be pretty grim. It helps to lighten things up.” A shadow crossed her face. “Did I, er, was I all right?”

“You were perfect, love. I could not have asked for more. Did I hurt you?”

“A little, but I came so hard it was worth it.” She looked thoughtful. “Sex is different that way. Hotter, more intense. After you licked my pussy, I couldn’t have stopped if the world blew up around us.”

He snorted. “I had a hell of a time not laying you down on that bench in the gazebo. You are beautiful, perfect, impossible to resist.”

She shivered in his arms. “Brrr. I wasn’t cold until just now. Better watch those compliments, I’ll become unbearable.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” He scooped her into his arms and carried her back to the gazebo. He wanted to make love to her again, but she had to be sore. Maybe they could dry off and curl up and sleep for a few hours.

He set her down once they were inside the summerhouse and rummaged for towels, finding some beneath the bench seat. He started to dry her, but she yanked the towel away. “Silly. I can manage.”

“Maybe we could sleep for a bit.”

“Och, and then eat, and then make love again.” She shot him a coquettish grin. “I’ve got your number, big boy.”

Lars set his towel down and eyed her. “If you ran the universe, how would you arrange the next few hours?”

“Let’s see.” She snapped her fingers. “Sure and I’d vote for a nap, maybe some decent spirits, and as much more of that,” she made a grab for his half-hard cock, “as I could get.”

“Are you sore?”

She rubbed her thighs together experimentally. “Maybe a little, but not so much as to slow things down.” She winked broadly. “We Irish are a randy bunch. It’s the long winters and all those potatoes and Irish whiskey.”

He sorted his clothes and began pulling them on. So did she. When they’d worked their way down to shoes and socks, she said, “Is there any way I could be calling my folks? Sure and they’re likely worried half to death about me since you killed my cell phone.”

He snorted. “I suppose that would be one way to describe it. The terms we use in the field are dismantle or deactivate. I dismantled your phone, liebchen.”

“I like my description better. It’s more…colorful. You didn’t answer my question.”

“Every phone line in Garen’s house is scrambled, so you can call your parents. It might be best if you did not tell them exactly where—”

“Give me credit for a wee bit of brains.” She placed her hands on her hips. “It will be enough for them to know I’m alive and in good hands.”