Big Cat Mates Lion in Wait (4 page)

She sucked him into her hot mouth and Royce groaned, fighting the urge to come, wanting to prolong this bliss, to stay inside her forever. Starr sank down on his cock, taking every inch of him, humming softly, her lips vibrating.

God, if I wrote this into copy, every man would want what I was selling, would want Starr, my beautiful assistant, my mate
. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. His tip bumped against the back of her throat. She closed her lips around his base and sucked, inhaling him, connecting the two of them in a way he’d never felt with anyone else.

Sexy. Sure. Smooth. Hot
. Royce picked up a pen and spewed words over the white page, jotting down anything, everything, not thinking, only feeling. She bobbed over him, working his shaft and balls with her hands and mouth.

Tight. Wet. Soft. Strong
. He wrote faster and faster, matching her rhythm. His animal panted and golden fur covered his hands, claws extending from his fingertips, the tips digging into the pen. His cock grew larger, his girth stretching Starr’s lips, and she moaned, the sound flowing over his skin.

“Starr.” His pen snapped, ink spraying the surface of the desk, staining his fingers black. “I’m going to come,” he warned, his control fragmented, caving under the exquisite pressure of her mouth.

Starr surged forward, taking him completely, graciously, generously accepting all of him, his human and his lion. She sealed her lips around his shaft and sucked hard, breaking him into a million pieces.

“Starr,” he bellowed, raising his hips into her sweet suction, coming hard, filling her mouth with his hot cum, rattling the windows with his roar. She sucked and sucked and sucked, swallowing, her throat convulsing, her cheeks indented. Starr took everything he had, leaving him with nothing, his brain as empty as his cock.

He closed his eyes, his breathing leveling, his heartbeat slowing, his body relaxed, so fuckin’ relaxed. “You’re amazing. I don’t know how you do it.”

“I have many talents.” Starr grinned up at him, her face flushed, a brown curl dangling over one eye. “Tissue.” She held out her hand.

Royce extracted three tissues from the box behind him and pressed them into her hand, sweeping his thumb over her fingers in a silent thank you. She breathed in sharply, her responsiveness thrilling him, her smile wavering. “Your fingers are black.” Her husky voice curled around him.

“The pen broke.” He watched her, his lion purring with satisfaction, as she cleaned him, taking care of him as she had for the past three days, allowing him to focus on his work, his firm, his pride.

Her pride too
, his lion rumbled, embracing the mate they hadn’t time for. Royce frowned at the ink-stained paper, his work not done, the copy remaining weak. “I must…” He waved his hand, guilt arresting his words.

“Work.” Starr tucked his semi-hard cock into his pants, her touch divine. “I understand, boss.”

She does
. Royce met her gaze, her support shining in her eyes. “You’re perfect,” he replied, without thinking, the emotion overwhelming his tired brain.

Starr’s beautiful face turned pink. “Only the best for my boss.” She wiggled out from underneath the desk and straightened, indents from the hardwood crisscrossing her pale knees. “I’ll remember that perfect comment during my annual review.”

Royce chuckled and focused on the copy, his heart light, his creative juices revived. When the time was right, when the pride was strong and the firm was healthy, he’d make their relationship public.

Until then, there was no rush to claim her. He dashed sentences onto the page as Starr sopped up the ink with paper towels. She was his mate, his assistant, and she wasn’t going anywhere, her place by his side.

Starr waited for a break in the presentation and carefully walked into the boardroom, balancing a coffeepot and a cup of tea on her tray. The heavy tan curtains draped in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows blocked the morning sun, creating a cozy den-like setting, the lights dimmed, the focus on the illuminated whiteboard at the front of the room.

Royce, king of the domain, lounged at the end of the table, his head held regally high and his shoulders squared. His two brothers sat to his left, fidgeting with the images and handouts spread over the wooden surface. Nikhil Baagh, the CEO of Tiger Tech, the client they wished to impress, relaxed to his right, allowing them to cater to him.

As she entered the room, the four breathtakingly virile businessmen turned their heads, their fit forms clad in dark suits. All of the males were appealing in their own way yet only one captured her attention. Royce met her gaze, his eyes glowing with triumph.

It’s going well
. Starr smiled at him, relieved, this account important to the firm, to Royce, the man she suspected she loved. She kept that insight to herself. Her boss was already skittish about their existing relationship.

“Ahhh… the mysterious tea goddess returns.” Nikhil Baagh watched her with lazy eyes, his hair as black as night, his face tanned and exotic. “Do you have a name, goddess?”

“Her name is Starr.” Royce’s voice was cool, crisp, and disappointingly businesslike -- no hint of passion, of need, of want in his blunt words. “She’s my assistant.”

Assistant
. Starr’s smile wavered.
What did I expect? Here’s my lover
? She mentally berated herself. Royce had been clear about her limited role in his life. Her boss had no time for romantic relationships. She set the tray on the table and picked up the dainty white teacup and saucer.

“Starr,” Baagh repeated slowly, elongating the single syllable, rolling the r’s. “That’s a name worthy of a goddess.”

“I’m no goddess, Mr. Baagh, sir.” Starr’s face heated. She placed the teacup and saucer before the flirtatious young executive.

“Call me Nikhil, please.” His long fingers brushed over her hand, his skin warm, spices wafting from his suit-clad body. Starr stiffened, fighting the urge to jump back, his touch wrong, so very wrong.

A rumble rolled through the room. Royce glared at Baagh, his face dark with open hostility. Royce’s two brothers, seated beside him, grinned, their eyes sparkling as though they were watching an extremely entertaining show.

“It’s rare to find a female with an appreciation for fine tea.” Baagh ignored Royce entirely. He raised the cup and casually sipped at the beverage she had cashed in favors to procure, his assistant having graciously shared his preferences with her.

“At Leone Media, we care about our clients’ desires,” Starr murmured, hoping that was the right thing to say. Royce’s mood this morning was extremely volatile, his reaction to Baagh’s touching bordering on possessive.

Which is insane
. She glanced at her boss.
As I’m merely his assistant
.

“You do seem to know my desires, a bit too well.” Baagh’s catlike eyes, similar to Royce’s yet colder and wilder, gleamed. “It was fortunate timing, your hiring aligning with this meeting.”

“She was qualified.” Royce once again answered for her.

“Very.” Baagh winked at Starr and inclined his head slightly toward Royce.
What is he up to
? She stepped back from the table, away from Baagh, not wishing to be a part of whatever the rising tech star had planned. Baagh reached out as though to grab her.

Royce thudded his empty coffee mug against the mahogany tabletop.

Starr picked up the coffeepot and rushed to her boss’s side, grateful to have an excuse to be near him, his proximity comforting, his touch welcome. She filled the mug, her boss, her lover, preferring his coffee black.

“Yes, you certainly are qualified, Miss Starr.” Baagh’s lips curved around the rim of his cup. “I’d steal you away from Leone Media, but I don’t believe in mixing business with pleasure.”

“And this is business.” Royce leaned forward in his chair, golden hair covering his big hands, his lion dangerously close to the surface.

“For Royce, you’re merely business, goddess.” Baagh shrugged.

Starr dropped her gaze, having no response.
Is that true? Am I merely business? A convenient fuck
? Her head said “yes,” her heart screamed “no.”

“For me, you could be so much more.” Baagh’s outrageous flirting soothed her battered confidence.

“She’s mine, tiger,” Royce growled and Starr stared at him, her boss acting more like an animal than a man, his surly tone jeopardizing the account his pride needed so badly.

Why would he do that? Unless
… Her heart leaped.
He cares for me. He cares for me more than he cares about business, more than he cares about the pride
.

“Mine,” Royce repeated, claws extending from his fingertips. Her boss was ready to fight his client… for her.

That can’t happen. He needs this account
. Starr grazed her fingers over the back of Royce’s neck, under his lengthening hair, seeking to distract him as only a lover could.

He pushed back against her, rubbing his head on her stomach, her normally professional boss’s public touching surprising, arousing, exciting. She rested her hands on his broad shoulders, his muscles rippling under too many layers of clothing.

“Are you his, Starr?” Baagh toyed with his teacup, batting it back and forth between his hands.

Yes, I’m his
. Starr couldn’t share that truth, Royce not yet ready to hear it. He might never be ready to hear it and that was okay because he cared for her. “I’m Mr. Leone’s assistant.” She pulled her hands away from her boss. Royce caught her wrists, holding her in place.

“I have another idea for Tiger Tech’s social media platform,” Dirk interjected.

“We’ll talk about it at our next meeting.” Baagh waved his hand and knocked his teacup. Tea spilled on the wooden tabletop. “Sorry about that.” He winced. “I’ll clean it up.” He glanced around him, the liquid rolling dangerously close to his expensive suit.

“I’ll get it.” Starr tugged her wrists free, grabbed a stack of paper napkins, and hurried to the executive’s side. “Watch your tie, Mr. Baagh. Tea stains silk.” She sopped up the mess.

“Call me Nikhil, please.” A slow smile stretched across Baagh’s handsome face. “Have you been to Tiger Tea on Fifth and Main?”

The high-end teahouse
? Starr frowned, the change of topic too abrupt to be part of a random conversation.

“Before you say anything.” The executive raised his hand, and Starr moved the teacup farther away from him. “I should warn you my family owns it, and unlike lions.” He slid his gaze to Royce. “Tigers are very protective of anything or anyone belonging to us.”

“I know where this is heading,” Royce growled. “And she’s not going anywhere with you, Baagh.”

“Why ever not?” Baagh raised one black eyebrow. “She’s your assistant. You don’t own her.” He brushed his fingers over Starr’s skin, and she pulled her hand away, unable to tolerate his caress.

“Do
not
touch my mate, tiger,” Royce snarled. He sprang to his feet, his big hands curled into fists, his teeth bared, his body coiled as though he readied to attack.

Starr stared at Royce, awed by the power, the passion in his expression. “Mate?”
Isn’t that the shifter word for wife
? “You said you didn’t have time for romance.”

“I didn’t have time now.” Royce’s gaze remained fixed on his client, his perceived rival. “You’re mine, Starr. I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you away from me.”

His brothers inhaled sharply. Starr’s pussy moistened, his possessiveness arousing.

“There.” Baagh nodded, nonchalantly straightening his cuffs, acting not at all concerned by the threat. “That wasn’t so hard to admit, was it?” He rose gracefully from the chair and strode toward the door, Royce’s gaze tracking his movements.

“And I knew immediately who she was to you, cat.” Baagh looked back over his shoulder. “Your scent is all over her. I don’t like to be lied to; no client does. Next time, introduce her properly.” He walked out.

“Royce.” Dirk looked at Starr and then at Royce. “We should talk --”

“Later.” Tanner jabbed his elbow into Dirk’s gut. “We’ll talk later.” He pushed his brother out of the room, closing the door behind them, leaving Starr alone with Royce.

I’m this magnificent male’s mate
. She gazed at Royce, her mind spinning, while Royce gazed at the door, his chest heaving as though he’d run a race. Silence stretched, the air thick with unexpressed emotion.

“So.” She forced a smile. “Four days on the job and I’ve already gotten a promotion.”

He swung his head around and stared at her, lines forming between his blond eyebrows. “What?”

“I’m your mate now, right?” Starr moved his coffee cup to the tray. Royce nodded. “And a mate is more powerful than an assistant?” she asked, knowing the answer. He bobbed his head again. “Then that’s a promotion.” She set Baagh’s teacup beside the coffee cup. “Promotions usually come with salary increases.”

Royce hooked his arm around Starr’s waist and pulled her to him. “Everything I have is yours.” He rested his face against her breasts, his breath hot and ragged.

“And everything I have is yours.” She petted his golden hair, the strains silky soft. “Though you might not want that everything. All I have is debt.”

A strangled sound originated from Royce’s throat.

“Are you okay?” Starr peered down at him.

“No, I’m not okay.” He gazed up at her, his catlike eyes turbulent. “He marked you, Starr.” Royce lifted her hand to his mouth and licked her knuckles, his tongue rough and arousing. “Marked you, my mate.” He laved her skin thoroughly as though he sought to erase all traces of Baagh’s touch.

“I smell him on you.” He sniffed her wrist, bumping against her with his cold nose. “On your clothes, on your skin.” He followed his explorations with his tongue, leaving a trail of heat along her wrist, her arm, pushing her sleeves higher and higher. “It is driving my animal crazy. I need to make you mine.”

“I’m yours,” she reassured him, curling her fingers in his shaggy hair, holding onto him. “Only yours.” He sucked on her elbow, and she moaned, the pressure exquisite.