The Cat and the Bird Skirt the Rules

Huffing, he shakes his head. "If you could see one of the neurotic nits tie themselves up in knots dealing with me, you'd have a different opinion. I upset them without even trying." He blinks and frowns. "Hey. You're not exactly the tiger you like to project, pet. Unless you're talking Tigger."

"Not everyone knows that, Taurus. I'm careful to keep the fence up now. My people have to know that I care, or I can't lead. But they also need to know that I'm not open for business."

"Why me? Why let me see what you're hiding from your own people? I doubt it's because of my sterling reputation."

He must really want to know because he's leaning in close and crowding me a bit. I shrug in response, feeling cornered. "I don't know. Maybe because you're honest and my gut said I could trust you. Maybe you're such a big, dangerous man that you crashed through the gate. I can't figure it out." I give him a teasing grin, trying to lighten the mood a bit. "My emotions aren't an exact science. People have gotten past my boundaries before I know they're there."

The last MM flies into the air and he goes to catch it in his mouth but misses and growls, "Shit."

Completely flummoxed by that not-so-sterling example of clone coordination, I suppress a giggle. "What did you do, baby?"

He glares. "I biht mhy fuhckin tohnghue."

Trying not to burst out laughing because it will only make him angrier, I ask, "Are-are you okay? You didn't spear it, right?"

Glaring harder, he mutters, "Nohte me, ignohring you."

I purse my lips, sliding off the couch. Coming over to him, I put my hand on his jaw. "Let me see."

"Why, sho you cahn pohke iht with ah stihck?"

"No. Quit being a baby and let me see."

Sulking, he sticks his tongue out warily. I lean down, peering at it for a second before wrapping my lips around it. Sucking softly and brushing my tongue over his, I wait until I feel it tingle, then draw back and smile. "Better?"

I think he hears me, but he stares at my mouth as if he got whacked with a crowbar.

"Huh?" he finally responds.

I give him a fond smile. "I asked if it stopped hurting."

"No. Try again."

I wait for him to stick his tongue out and lower my lips to his. Slipping my tongue in to brush over his gently, I focus on the spot he bit, sending soothing tingles. I realize he's probably faking now, but I'm willing to go along. I can feel the weight of that look that I can't define. To be honest, this is a little self-serving—I'm so damned glad he's back.

He kisses me back enthusiastically and I tumble onto his lap. My hands wrap around his shoulders, holding on as the kiss deepens. He groans into my mouth and it makes everything in my stomach clench. I didn't intend to start something up, but hell and be damned if I'm not going along with it.

Taurus pulls back suddenly and surges to his feet, catching me before I fall. He sets me away from him, running a hand through his hair. "Bloody buggering hell, stop that."

I blink up at him, shocked and hurt at his words. "O-Okay."

"We're not supposed to be doing that. I decided last night."

Did he forget to inform me of some rather large change in our arrangement? Did I do something egregious, and he's cutting me off? What in the hell is going on?I feel my chest tighten and my entire body tense, on the verge of a ‘Wilde' panic attack.

"See, you start the kissing and the purring and then I'm naked and pounding into you without a thought in my head, but how fucking incredible it feels." He rakes his hair again, looking agitated. "It doesn't leave much time to get to know you better. You've become important to me and I don't want you to think I'm using you just for the naked sweaties. I thought if we took a break from the snugglies, I could do that. It worked because I got you to talk by keeping the chair distance between us. But you're lolling on the couch like a hedonist and it's hard. I stayed strong until you stuck your tongue in my mouth. Then, like the typical testosterone dolt that I am, all thought of getting to know you flew right out the window. That isn't right." He takes a deep breath when he finishes his rant, crossing his arms over his chest.

Now what in the fuck do I say to that? Holy Christ.

There's so much I could say but I agreed to play by his rules—rules which he is not playing by right now—and I can't have him thinking I lied. He might get freaked out and bolt. Being important to him isn't a big deal, right? I mean, shoes are important to me. He's saying I'm good for having a friendly chat and getting him off. It's not a declaration, regardless of how goofy he sounds.

Shit. He's glaring and I think he expects me to say something. Play dumb—that'll buy time.

"Oh. I didn't mean to break your resolve. I mean, I didn't know you had… resolve." I scramble to the other end of the couch, leaving a safe distance between us. "Is this better?"

"Not exactly."

"Sometimes I forget you don't know me well enough yet. I drape over things—which makes sense with the kitty. It's not sexual all the time. It's just part of who I am now."

"What I've noticed is when you drape over me, I stop thinking with my big head and start plotting with the lower one."

I cover my mouth as I chuckle, not correcting his accurate assessment. "I wasn't trying to be tempting. I'll be good." I cross my heart and lean on my elbows, looking repentant.

He snarls, "Great. Perfect. Bloody sodding wonderful." Sitting down, arms still tight across his chest, he frowns. "Thanks for the slip of the tongue. It doesn't hurt anymore."

I frown back at him, eyes narrowed. "Now what? You're awfully grumpy, considering I'm doing what you wanted me to. You're welcome, by the way."

"Give me a minute; I'll calm down." He gestures crudely and growls, "Get it?"

Pressing my lips together, I nod. I'd tell him that my body is raring to go too, but he's being such a cranky dick that I don't want to.

"I tried not to be my normal hormone-driven self and take some time to get to know you. But you sucked on my tongue. This is your fault."

"You were pissed that you bit your tongue. I only tried to help."

"You were the hussy that sucked on my tongue! How's a smart man supposed to get blood to his head when you do that?"

"I was trying to make you feel better, you big ape!"

"You're all sexual and stuff, no matter what you're doing. It's your fault."

"Duh." I roll my eyes at him. "But I can't very well stick my fingers in your mouth, can I?"

"Oh, I'm an ape now, am—" He just caught that, but my question stops him in his tracks. His incredulous look almost makes me snicker. "Actually, as they're not attached to a large, unpleasant object, you can!" He stalks away from my couch, tossing himself down into the armchair.

"It seemed weird. I'm not a dentist. Using my tongue seemed more practical." I glare back, not sure why he's being so damned obstinate. I made it better, didn't I?

"This is what I get for liking someone. All this—argh, feeling. Bloody woman."

I stomp my foot, infuriated with his tantrum. What in the hell is wrong with him? "I didn't say I didn't like big apes. You called me a hussy!"

"I sodding like hussies. Especially when you're all prickly and stompy and tramping on me, you silly nit. It's a bloody turn on!"

My eyes narrow and I stomp over, poking him in the chest hard. "Then you shouldn't throw a damn tantrum and run away, you ass!"

He opens his mouth to shout back but halts, surging to his feet and grabbing me by the shoulders. "You're right."

"I know that." I push up on my toes, my eyes swirling with my beast behind them. The angry emotions of our argument were enough to wake her from her nap and she's ready to go.

"Fuck," he roars.

I'm not sure if that's a suggestion or a command, but he stops yelling to tangle his fingers in my hair. Yanking my head back, he sears my mouth with a kiss that he doesn't see if I'm amenable to. I kiss him back hungrily, my hands crawling up his chest to bury in his hair. Our tongues duel roughly when I press against him from head to toe. My body flares hot and I let the growl slip from my chest.

Furious, he growls back and picks me up, using his speed to pin me against the nearest wall. He rips his mouth away from mine long enough to spear me with a turbulent gaze as he tears off my shirt. My legs slide up onto his waist, wrapping around him tightly. I pant as his hands cup my breasts and pinch my nipples. "Fuck! There's… plenty of time… to get to know me."

As soon as he feels my legs tighten on his waist, he lets me use the wall behind me to stay upright. Looking down at his shirt with a toothy grin, he gets rid of it with a thought. His hips and the wall support my weight, so his hands are free to continue teasing the sensitive buds. He watches them pucker before blowing on one. "Fuck is right."

I arch into his hands, my blunt nails raking down over his shoulders. I squirm as his cock pushes against me through our clothes. I was hungry for him and fighting has made it worse. Driven by the sting of my nails, he sinks his blunt teeth into the skin above my breast. I cry out, shivering at the teeth. He pushes me into the wall harder as he tastes one nipple, then the other. His head lifts and he growls darkly. Grabbing my waist, he turns us, shoving me so I tumble away from him.

Looking up at him from the ground, I growl. That kind of play will trigger my Beast, and he needs to be very careful here. She loves to be chased, even if I hate to run. I wait for him to do so, knowing I'll have to slam the cage in place internally.

But he just watches me as frees himself from his pants. His lips curl as he gestures at my remaining clothing. "Take them off or lose them," he mutters, stalking towards me predatorily.

The primal energy in the room nudges her loose and I yowl as I kick my pants off. If she weren't taking the lead in this, it might trigger some unbelievably bad things. Instead, I'm propped on my elbows and panting heavily, my veins flooded with fire. A macabre grin dances across his face as he bends over and flexes his muscles. He yanks me off the ground painfully before shoving me into the wall to press his body against mine. Grinding his cock against my stomach, he brings his fangs forward just enough to graze the skin on my chest. They move from one breast to the other and I shudder.

I can't fucking take the fangs; I'm going to lose control.

I rake the tips of my claws down his back, and he hisses in pain and pleasure. My features flicker and I rub my tummy against his shaft eagerly. She struggles with me inside, making me hiss and snarl. She can't be entirely free, so she's banging against the bars and howling up a storm. He's not mine—we can't do that. It's hard to tell a raging primal Beast ‘no', but that's what I'm struggling to do while Taurus is turning my brain to gelatin.

He pulls his hips away, and the fog in my brain clears briefly. His arms lift me an inch and then he pauses. Our eyes meet, though nothing as tame as understanding passes between us. Feral and possessed, he bares his fangs at me. Without warning, he slams into me in one full thrust and roars, his demon triumphant.

My own fangs burst free and I'm unable to keep from joining the roar. My back arches and my head thumping against the wall when my body grips his cock tightly. The claws unsheathe completely and dig into his back reflexively. She's not totally unleashed, but my eyes are swirling with green and gold highlights. If he didn't expect this, he's a fool. There's only so much I can hold back when it's like this and I'm doing the best I can to keep her from tearing into what she wants.

Unconcerned, his golden eyes meet my emerald ones. Sweat trickles down his spine as he fucks me hard, slamming his fist into the wall near my head. Passion and pain cast a haze over us, giving my Beast some of what she needs. Suddenly, he sniffs the air like an animal to sense my level of desire. Satisfied, he smirks through the sharp incisors and I growl back.

My chest heaves, taking in great heaving pants as my hips buck and slam against his. Leaning down, I swirl my tongue over his shoulder, tasting his skin. I lick the sweat off, savoring the salt on my tongue. Fully unsheathed claws slide down the slick muscles of his back involuntarily and he snarls, slamming into me harder. I gasp, hoping I didn't break skin. A red mark won't get us killed, right?

Christ, I hope not.

He lowers his head and runs his tongue over all four of my fangs. I shudder, my Beast feeling accepted in a way she rarely experiences. His thrusts get rougher, harder, and faster. I shift against him, nipping his tongue with one as he kisses me. The last thread of his control snaps—I can almost hear it. His head flies back, and he roars. My fangs and claws push him over the edge, but he continues pumping into me. His hand snakes down to my clit, flicking it roughly, and my hips buck against his when my body explodes.

I can feel his grin against my shoulder as we come down. He bites me again—blunt teeth only—and my chest rumbles in pleasure. I rake a hand over his ass in retaliation, raising my emerald and gold eyes to his as I struggle to float back to the surface. He holds me close, still buried inside me, as he wobbles back to the couch. Once there, he slowly withdraws and lowers me to the cushions. As if it just occurred to him, he looks down at me as I loll there, aches and bruises forming.

I'm a pale ass bitch and I mark up good. I can't help that.

Unsure of what is going on in his head, I meet his gaze with a feline smirk. He seems perturbed and I don't know why. Picking up his pants, he puts them on and backs up a step. His eyes travel over the long welt across my chest where his fang trailed—not deep enough to draw blood, but enough to leave an angry red mark. Still silent, his hand reaches back to touch a claw mark on his back, wincing for a second. Then he just stares at me again.

Did I cross a line by scratching his back or by letting him scratch me? I don't know. I panic inside because I did it again. Not to the degree I did with Mercury or Wilde, but I let her out too much, crossed a line, and it's all ruined.

Feeling tears prick behind my eyes, I close them and pretend to get my breath back. I'm trying not to hyperventilate. It's like this wild, untamed part of me is cursed. She has to be shackled up and shunned for everyone's safety. I open my eyes when I feel his gaze change.

A wry grin is teasing his lips. He drops on the couch above my head and I stay silent, waiting. Reaching out, he grabs for my hand, and contrary to the bestial tone of that incredible shag, he kisses the underside of my wrist gently. I try not to get my hopes up, but he seems okay, so I laugh lightly. "Bloody hell in a handbasket."

My purr kicks up once my chest loosens. I try to relax the aching and tense muscles of my frame, so I don't look as freaked out as I am. He grins at the purr, but remains eerily silent.

Deflating, I look up from under my lashes, murmuring, "Are you okay?" He has no idea what it costs me to ask or how afraid I am of the answer. I keep it all contained because I will never give a lover the ability to hurt me that way again.

He looks at me for a long minute with no expression on his face at all. "Yeah, I'm fine. It wiped me out. I feel melted."

Melted? What the hell does that mean?I arch a brow, asking carefully, "You don't look fine. Even if you are… melted?"

"Yeah, melted inside. It happens when I get that demonic during a shag. It's like a little of my soul—if I have one—burns off, gets lost, whatever."

I nod, but I have no concept of that to relate it to. I go furry and it's still me. Well, there's her, but that's part of me now. It's not as if I lose anything besides control. Getting the furry to go away is hard sometimes. She wants to stay out whenever she wants rather than go back to her spot inside. I wonder for a moment if that's because we're so separate and maybe we shouldn't be, but I don't know enough about how that stuff works to muddle it out.

"I've gotten totally feral. One night, I couldn't talk for hours. I started growling people off if they came near us, looking around, sniffing for stuff. It was like I couldn't get out of the primal."

"That's the penalty for primal pleasure," he says, still giving me that weird look.

"I get it." I don't, but at least I can relate it to something I understand. Is it possible that his demon—being a true clone—and my beast work differently? Does that mean she didn't come from the clone blood? Fuck. This water is way too deep to tread while naked.

"Then there's the other."

Other? Shit. Now what?Something is very wrong here and I don't know what it is. It keeps feeling like he's okay for a minute, then he lapses into brooding. This kind of bi-polar shit is when it goes badly with Wilde. Please don't let this behavior be some bullshit that she brings out in other predators.

His eyes sweep over my form, and then he spears me with a look. "Didn't bite too hard, did I, pet? I know the human teeth hurt more."

I snort. Man, does he not know me very well. "Oh, no. Trust me, you can't bite too hard. Thank you for asking, though."

"Some don't much appreciate it if you don't," he mutters, shrugging.

My brows furrow. Again, with the laconic bullshit. What is with him? He's never like this. "Um. Are you sure you're okay?" I gesture towards his back, realizing that there are marks even if they're not bleeding. He's not like my boys—they're used to the claws.

My heart skips a beat as I wait, but he grins. "Hurts. Stings. I'll be fine." He looks over his shoulder for a moment. "Think you might have drawn blood, but you probably could have eviscerated me right then and I wouldn't have noticed."

Oh shit, this is the problem.I fucked up. It was one of his rules—no blood. Oh, bloody fucking goat balls. "I'm sorry. I'll be more careful; I promise."

He waves a hand. "Why bother? You enjoyed it, didn't you? Being that feral and wild was good, right? Sure, it would have been better were we mated and could finish the deed. We didn't do too badly for each other despite that."

What? Did I step onto Planet WTF and no one told me?

Is he making nice before Talia skewers me with a launched Bowie? I lick my lips and shrug, making light of what I'm about to say. He can't know how much this matters to me, so I gotta be cool. "I didn't want to cross any lines." I stare at my feet, suddenly engrossed in the sparkling nail polish on my toes.

He nods in understanding. "Pet, we can rip each other's spines out. As long as our blood doesn't mix and we don't bite through the skin, we're good."

Whew. "Okay."

"Kind of a shame. I think I'd like to drink from you while I'm drinking from you," he grins evilly, and I can feel my porcelain skin get paler. "But I'm bent that way."

I breathe carefully, still unsure whether this entire evening is going to get me killed. "It's not bent unless maybe I am, too. She's a big fan of feasting."

"I think we're both bent, pet." He gives me that odd look again and my stomach flip flops.

Why does he keep doing that? "That works. If I'm not the only one, then I'm cool with it." I force a grin, hoping it will cover up the nervousness still racing through my veins.

He winks. "You are not the only one. On that note, I've got to get out of here. I know, I know—a fuck and run. But our show will be on soon and it's my night alone with the golden one."

"It's okay; she's your mate. Go spend time with her." I have no idea what I'll do when I get home, as it's been hours since my afternoon meeting with the ladies. I'm sure the boys have sussed out where I disappeared to. "I've got some shopping to do for a ritual."

"A ritual? Shit. You left the interesting bit till last. I'll have to grill you tomorrow, pet."

He blows a kiss at me; I pretend to chomp it and then return the gesture. "Bye, baby."

I am so irrecovably screwed.