Chapter 9: Revelations
The balcony was simple yet elegant. It overlooked a garden that reminded her both of Nana's colorful, welcoming front yard and the serene parklike setting of old Thundera's clerisy. Cheetara stood at the railing dressed in a flowing white robe trimmed in silver thread; her flaxen hair pulled back in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. It was still hard to believe they'd succeeded and accomplished all they had set out to do.
"Mama! Mama!"
Two high-pitched voices rose behind her. Cheetara turned, smiling. Cubs bearing the marks of their parentage ran to her, throwing their chubby little arms around her waist. She stroked each furry little head.
"My darlings," she cooed. "What have you been up to?"
"Mischief as usual," a rich masculine voice replied.
Cheetara's gaze settled swiftly on the owner of that voice. Tygra's long legs covered the short distance between them in three strides. He was still as magnificent and desirable as he was when they first became mates; Cheetara's eyes softened at the sight of him. His kiss of greeting held the promise of pleasurable things to come, her pulse quickened, and—
Cheetara woke up.
The cheetah lay in bed stunned, clinging to the feeling of happiness still holding her in its grasp. She raised a hand to her forehead. Could this be true? A glimpse of the future? In reality, she and Tygra had only been together for several months. They'd been in love forever, but the acknowledgment and decision to have a relationship was still in its infancy. She knew her love for him was the real thing. He made her supremely happy. He was all she wanted. Well, him and an untroubled future that included a home and family.
They hadn't spoken of anything that permanent, although she knew without a doubt that his feelings for her were no less genuine. In all fairness, present circumstances did not allow for long-term plans; tomorrow wasn't promised to any of them. But her dreams were rarely, if ever, without consequence. This dream—this vision—gave her hope that everything would turn out as she prayed it would despite seeming impossible now. Lion-O would reign over a peaceful kingdom; she and Tygra would remain together and be happy.
As the euphoria of her vision began to recede, Cheetara threw back the bedcovers and rose. It was time to start the day.
– o –
Cheetara couldn't wait to hit the shower. The unpleasant gunk sticking to her hair, fur and clothing reeked. She wrinkled her nose, trying not to gag. Thank you, Kit. She and Panthro parted ways in the common area; they'd given the twins an ultimatum. Come back with food or sleep outside. Now that the cheetah was making her way to the shower, she thought, perhaps, the demand was a little harsh. It wasn't that she minded looking after the twins, they were children after all, but Kit and Kat constantly whined that they were starving. Panthro wasn't wrong in saying they needed to learn how to take care of themselves; times were too uncertain. The twins expected the adults to find the food, dress it, cook it, do everything except spoon-feed them. It wouldn't have been so bad if they hadn't sabotaged every attempt the adults made to bring down dinner. Cheetara's patience unraveled when Kit's antics landed her in a bed of slime-producing plants. A little would mask their scent from the prey; a lot was…well, Cheetara was glad Tygra was not around.
Cheetara stopped by her sleeping pad, grabbed a robe along with a handful of lavender, and headed for the Sabertank's version of a bathroom. The head was equipped with two stainless steel sinks, a large mirror mounted above them, an oversized steel and glass shower, and two toilet bowls. She locked the door, turned on the water in the shower stall, and peeled off her clothing, dropping everything into a smelly heap on the floor. She peered at her reflection, frowned at the goo sticking in her hair, then stepped into the shower. The water was hot and felt good pouring over her body. Cheetara braced her hands against the stall. She allowed the deluge to soak her hair and run between her shoulder blades on its journey down her back, streaming over her buttocks and legs. She stood like that for a few minutes before soaping her hair thoroughly. When she was sure every trace of gunk had been removed from her burnished tresses, she turned her attention, soap, and lavender to the rest of her.
At first, touching herself was innocent in service of cleansing her fur. But somewhere along the line, thoughts of Tygra's hands on her body infiltrated her mind, and her arousal was insidious. Slim fingers stroked and stretched her folds, touched her bud of delight, inciting it to fireworks. Cheetara's tortured moan was lost in the spray of water; her movements intensified, as did her arousal. The need to be filled overwhelmed her. She wanted Tygra's weight crushing her so badly it was almost a physical pain. Her legs grew weak, and she shoved her fingers inside herself as far as she could, stoking the fire racing through her body until she exploded; a stream of fluid soaked her fingers. Panting, trembling, Cheetara rested her forehead against the stall, the water rinsing away all traces of her release.
She turned off the water, stepped out of the shower, and wrapped a towel around herself. Cheetara looked at the stinky mess on the floor; she sighed and spent the next twenty minutes carefully laundering her shorts and top. It would take some time for them to dry, but her only other garments were a shirt for sleeping and the robe she was currently wearing. She wasn't about to prance around in a robe or stay cooped up in her pad. Tygra had a change of clothes; she knew he would not mind if she borrowed them for a bit.
Tygra's room was uncluttered, organized, like the cat himself; his bunk was smartly made. Cheetara pulled the drawer beneath it open, seizing a pair of khakis and a short-sleeved shirt, both dyed dark blue. She shrugged out of her robe and tugged on the khakis. She and Tygra were nearly the same height, the length was perfect, but she was curvier. The fit wasn't seamless in the waist and hip, but at least she wasn't naked; Tygra's shirt was more accommodating. Modestly dressed, Cheetara joined Panthro in the observation deck.
"The kids aren't back?"
The general arched a brow, noticing the cleric's change of clothes. "Not yet."
Panthro wasn't one for chit-chat. He held his peace unless he had something to say; he was satisfied with companionable silence.
Cheetara missed having female friends. Nimrim and Kefira. They'd been good friends, and Nimrim had been the closest she'd had to family—a sister, really—since Nana's passing. The cheetah hadn't confided everything to the leopard, especially her secret desire, which was the tiger prince at the time. Still, the two cats had shared enough of their lives to form a strong bond. A day didn't pass when Nimrim and Kefira weren't in her thoughts; she would have given anything to have spared them from Thundera's destruction. Cheetara kept a journal. She found that putting her private thoughts and feelings in writing was helpful and eased the burden of being the lone adult female in a cadre of males.
So now comfortably seated on a bench in the common area, she took pen to paper, jotting down her thoughts in a neatly lettered script. First, she recounted her vision, then caught up with the events of the last few days.
It's been two days since the boys left to find a shortcut through the mountains. I thought they'd be back by now, but maybe they ran into bad weather. This is the first time Tygra and I have been apart since becoming a couple, and honestly, I had no idea I'd miss him this much! I should be embarrassed to write this, and I'm blushing profusely as I do, but thinking about him in the shower today had me taking matters into my own hands. I've never done that before!
Our living situation is such that we don't have a lot of private time. Aside from goodnight kisses and some heavy petting (which, by the way, make us feel like a couple of hot-blooded teenagers sneaking around), we sleep alone. I'd hoped—since the soundproofing upgrade—we'd be together at least a few times a week, but we haven't had the chance to christen either his pad or mine. I guess this is as good a place as any to mention the upgrade. Tygra was able to have that bit of work added to a necessary repair.
After we escaped Mumm-Ra's temple, one of the tank's weapon systems malfunctioned, so we returned to the Berbil village. The repair work was complicated, taking two days to complete even with Ro-Bear Bill's team working around the clock. Lion-O didn't notice the additional project, but Panthro rolled his eyes when Ro-Bear Bill explained what was being done. We'd no sooner gotten back on the road when we ran into Wolos, having trouble with Trollogs who were terrorizing them. We had to help, and we did, but our quest for the next stone was delayed by another three days. Following the Book of Omens, the next leg of our journey brought us here. If we can't find a shortcut through the mountains, additional days—days we don't have—will be added to our travel. So, our fearless leader and his second-in-command are on a scouting expedition, looking for one.
As I write this, Panthro is busy tinkering with mechanical things I don't understand, and I'm waiting for the kittens to return with the food they've been tasked to find. I probably should go scare up a rabbit or something in case they're unsuccessful. If today's hunting lesson proved anything, it's that the twins aren't willing to take a life, even for survival.
The rear door opened at that moment; Kit and Kat arrived with dinner. Cheetara closed the journal and, securing its privacy with a bit of light magic, she set it aside. The twins unfurled a canvas, liberating a succulent bounty that rolled across the table to Snarf's delight. The little cat creature reached for a pear-shaped morsel but was scolded by Kit. Mainly because he'd eaten the last of the twins' candy fruit and was the reason for their hunting lesson in the first place. The kittens hadn't brought back meat, as Panthro observed, but it was passable, a feast of delicious fruit that filled their stomachs for the night.
Another day came and went without the brothers returning. Cheetara rose, dressed in her usual attire, then took to the woods again to hunt alone. She'd always felt very much at home in the forest; the sounds and smells were familiar. Comfortable. Peaceful. She took several deep breaths, letting the morning air fill her lungs, clearing her mind, and invigorating her spirit before jogging into the woodland.
Cheetara increased her speed; footfalls light upon the forest floor, golden hair fanning out behind her as she ran. She never felt freer than when she was running for the sheer joy of it, without purpose or destination. The cheetah emptied her mind, concentrating only on how her lungs, heart, and muscles worked in harmony, delivering the power and speed she demanded. The weights on her limbs added resistance, but she still seemed to take flight. The cheetah ran faster and faster until the forest around her was nothing more than a blur. She swung west then skidded to a stop, sniffing the air. Cheetara scented a cervid moving in her direction. The cat stepped out of sight, concealing herself in the undergrowth. She dropped to all fours, her natural coloring and clothing obscuring her presence. The direction of the wind favored her; the small animal, a male, shook its head, testing the air before cautiously proceeding. Cheetara froze, not breathing or blinking as the muntjac inched closer; when the little creature was directly in front of her, she pounced.
The startled cervid turned its head, eyes rolled back in fear, trying to strike its attacker with short, sharp tusks. But the cheetah was larger and faster. She bared her fangs, digging her claws deep into the animal's neck. Blood spurted in the air; streams of it, bright red and warm, covered her hands and seeped between her fingers. Cheetara broke the muntjac's neck with one brutal snap, and its body went limp in her arms. The cleric whispered a quick prayer, thanking the animal for its sacrifice and the gods for the gift, then grabbed a knife from the small case attached to the back of her shorts. She went to work cutting open the cervid, removing its organs. The cat labored quickly, cutting free as much meat as she could; she wrapped the strips of meat in a clean waterproof cloth, then strapped it to her back for transport.
Cheetara was hot, sticky, and covered in more gore than she wanted to smell—even at her best speed—on the trip back to the tank. She swung by a stream discovered during her run and splashed water on her face and arms. The cleric picked bits of muntjac tissue off her shorts and top. I really need an extra set of clothes. Once she was reasonably clean, Cheetara continued on her way.
– o –
Tygra and Lion-O found the shortcut they'd gone searching for; however, an unplanned encounter and a sudden snowstorm delayed their return to the valley. When the brothers finally trudged into camp, they were tired but triumphant. The twins and Snarf spilled from the tank happily, bombarding them with questions.
"What took you so long?"
"Did you find the shortcut?"
"Did you run into lizards?"
"Don't be silly! Lizards don't like the cold!"
Panthro exited the tank in a less bombastic fashion. "Cripes, kid. We were starting to worry. Did you run into trouble?"
"Not really," Lion-O said, "but we did have an adventure."
Kat's ears pricked forward. "An adventure?"
"What happened?"
"It's really Tygra's story to tell."
The striped cat was unusually quiet. All eyes turned toward him, but the tiger didn't seem to be listening.
"Let us get settled," Lion-O covered, "then we'll tell you all about it."
The prince had one question when he spoke. "Where's Cheetara?"
"Hunting," Kit replied.
Tygra nodded and headed inside the tank; he really needed to see her.
Panthro erected the spit and was building a fire when Cheetara returned. She was surprised to see Lion-O chatting with the panther as he worked. The young king's face lit up when the cheetah barreled in.
"Hey."
"You're back." She slipped out of the makeshift harness, letting it drop.
"For a few hours now." Lion-O caught the package before it hit the ground.
Cheetara rotated her shoulders, easing the stress. "Did you find a pass through the mountains?"
"Yes, and we're back on track tomorrow."
"Good."
Cheetara took the bundle from Lion-O, plopped beside Panthro, and unwrapped the cloth. "It was a small muntjac," she explained, handing bright red strips to him. "Not a lot of meat, I'm afraid."
Panthro grunted. "Some meat is better than no meat. Too much fruit gives me the runs."
Cheetara wrinkled her nose and laughed. "Thanks for sharing that."
"Your boyfriend's inside," Lion-O said with an easy smile. "I know he's eager to see you."
"Oh, you do, do you?" She sounded nonchalant but rose quickly, suggesting eagerness to see the tiger as well.
Cheetara glided past the kittens and Snarf playing outside the tank. She didn't want to see Tygra before freshening up and needed to grab a few things before heading to the shower. She pushed open the door to her pad and was surprised to see the striped cat sitting on the edge of her bed.
"Welcome back," the corners of her pretty mouth turned up. "I'd kiss you, but I've been hunting, so I'm a little—"
Tygra didn't give her a chance to complete the sentence. He sprang to his feet and pulled her into his arms.
"I don't care." He claimed her mouth thoroughly.
Her arms circled his neck; she breathed him in. "I missed you."
Tygra's hands were everywhere, running through her hair, sliding down her back, gripping her waist.
"I love you," his breath was warm against her ear; he pushed his face in her hair.
She melted in his embrace. "And I love you."
"I have so much to tell you."
Cheetara sensed his turmoil. "What happened?"
Tygra rubbed his nose against hers, stroked her cheek tenderly before releasing her. "Take your shower, babe, then we'll talk."
– o –
Fresh from her shower, hair hanging in damp waves down her back, Cheetara came to Tygra dressed in his dark blues.
"Hope you don't mind," she smiled apologetically, tugging at the corner of his shirt. "It's laundry day, again."
"All that I have is yours," he replied quietly.
Tygra suggested they take a walk; he led Cheetara into the woods and settled her beneath a tree lush with mossy ground cover. She watched him pace back and forth, trying to decide where to start.
"Tygra, tell me."
He stopped pacing, sat down beside her. "You've never talked about your life before Thundera."
Cheetara tilted her head. "You've never asked."
"I assumed you were an orphan—like me."
"What's this about?"
"It took us longer than expected because—we ran across a lost clan in the mountains. A lost Tiger clan. My clan."
Cheetara's eyes opened wide. "What?"
"Yes," Tygra said, absorbing her surprise. "I met my father, Javan, the clan's king."
"Your father's alive?"
"No."
Cheetara's brows puckered. "I don't understand."
Tygra cradled her hands in his. "I'll tell you the story as it was told to me. In ancient times, the Tiger clan was the pride of Mumm-Ra's elite fighting force. During the great mutiny, they stayed loyal. And because they did, the Tigers were considered outcasts by the other cat clans. So, they settled in the mountains above this valley, thriving despite the harsh conditions for generations. Then, shortly after I was born, disease swept through their village, killing half of the population, including my mother.
"Javan, my father, proposed sending an envoy to Thundera for help, but he was overruled by the council. They refused to go crawling to cats who'd turned their backs on them; they suggested turning to the powers who'd protected their ancestors in the past, the Ancient Spirits. They summoned the Spirits, who agreed to help with one condition. The heir to the Tiger clan had to die. 'One life for many,' they said.
"My father refused, but the demand was non-negotiable. They told Javan that I would grow up to be their enemy; I had to die. So, he agreed to take me to the highest peak and take my life with the dagger they'd given him. But my father couldn't sacrifice me. He placed me in a basket attached to a balloon, set me adrift, hoping that I'd find a gentle landing and be kept safe.
"When the Spirits discovered Javan's betrayal, they cursed the survivors. The disease returned, killing them, but the curse gave them a half-life, transforming them into hideous creatures at night. We were attacked the first night and managed to fight the creatures off, but Javan finally told us the truth on our last night together. I saw them, Cheetara, all of them, turn into nightmarish things bent on killing me and Lion-O. My father would have killed me if I hadn't forgiven him at that moment. Javan said my act of humility saved them, releasing them from the curse. One by one, the tigers vanished, my father, being the last to go."
Tygra's eyes glistened, and teardrops slipped down his cheeks; he reached for something attached to his utility belt. "He wanted me to have this. It's all I have left of him."
Cheetara saw an elaborate object, elegantly carved, crowned with three red stones. It looked like a king's scepter. Tygra placed it in her hand; it was solid and heavy. She closed her fingers around it.
"It's a whip," Tygra said; running his hand over his face, he wiped the moisture away. "It matches this." He held out his wrist, showing her the bracelet he always wore. "See? I never knew its significance, only that my father Claudus said it was with me when I arrived."
Cheetara set the whip aside and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him close. "Oh, Tygra! I don't know what to say." She stroked his head, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "I'm so sorry, but I'm happy you met your father and got answers for the questions that have haunted you."
Tygra's arms tightened around her waist. "I wanted to stay there, Cheetara, make it my home. I thought I'd finally found the place where I belonged." He took a ragged breath. "I should have known better."
Cheetara could only hold him; her presence gave Tygra comfort. He clung to her as if he'd never let her go. His station had never mattered to her except that—for so long—it was the thing keeping them apart. Now she realized he'd always been a prince, and Fate had been cruel to him, robbing Tygra of two sets of parents and two kingdoms. But as a cleric, Cheetara knew other powers could be at work. By forcing Javan to sacrifice his son, the Spirits guaranteed their prophecy. A tiger raised among Lions would never tolerate the agents of evil or injustice; he would be a sworn enemy.
Tygra relaxed his hold on her; amber eyes locked on her face. "On the one hand, I have answers. And yeah, I'm thankful for that, but on the other—every time I've gotten over the loss, I'm thrown another curveball, and I have to recover all over again."
Cheetara stroked his jaw, then cupped his chin. "I don't know why things happened this way, but it seems the gods have other plans for you. If your father had done nothing, you would have perished with the rest of your clan. If he had done what the Spirits wanted, you would have been sacrificed for the good of the clan. Your father didn't just save you; he set you on an entirely different path, but Tygra, you know where you came from. You know why you were sent away, and it wasn't because you weren't wanted or loved. You've been twice blessed, even if it doesn't feel that way."
Tygra kissed the palm of her hand. "You are my blessing."
"I am not the only blessing in your life. You know that. You were never unwanted; you were never unloved."
There was a hint of sadness in her voice. Tygra noticed her eyes had taken on a faraway look. "Is there something you aren't telling me?"
"I never knew my mother or my father. In fact, my mother may have been the town tramp. She never wanted me; loving me wasn't part of her make-up. My mother abandoned me in an empty shack. I would have died if it hadn't been for the midwife who helped me into the world. My Nana found me and took care of me. She loved me all my life. I wasn't her blood, but we were family."
Tygra's heart lurched in his chest. "I'm sorry, babe."
Her gaze returned to him, warm and attentive. "Don't be. I haven't wasted one minute of my life wondering about the cheetah who bore me. It's never crossed my mind to look for her. If she could walk away from her own child and never look back, I didn't want to know her. My Nana was everything. I was the light of her life, and she was the foundation of mine."
"Nana sounds like she was a remarkable cat. She certainly raised an extraordinary one. In some ways, you're stronger than I am."
"I don't know about that," she said, crinkling her nose. "What I do know is that I love you. I will always be for you, no matter what."
There was one more thing he had to tell her; he didn't want to hold anything back. Tygra took a breath, glanced skyward before settling his gaze back on her face.
"If the Tiger village hadn't been a ghost town, I would have stayed and claimed my inheritance. Would you have come with me, Cheetara, to be my queen?"
The gods knew how much she loved him, how much she wanted to live the remainder of her life with him, but a melancholy veil fell over Cheetara's face.
"I would want that with all my heart, but I couldn't be your queen, Tygra. I made a vow; I'm a cleric in service to the crown. I could never break it, my love. Not even for you."
Tygra knew his girl; he had a strong idea about what she would say. Still, it stung to hear the words. "And knowing you as I do, I would never have asked."
"Is it possible, at least for us, that things worked out for the best?"
"Yes, I believe so."
"It's not our destiny to be separated now."
"You sound pretty certain about that."
"As certain as one can be."
They shared a pensive smile; their lips met without the usual thunder and glory but to seal a commitment to each other. Tygra pulled away first, giving her a curious look.
"Is there something else you're not telling me?"
Cheetara fluffed her hair, peering at him through her lashes. "A woman never reveals all of her secrets."
He flashed perfect teeth, changing tactics. "You know we spend a lot of time in the woods with nothing to show for it."
"Meaning?"
Tygra wiggled his eyebrows suggestively; Cheetara laughed, climbed in his lap, and nibbled his bottom lip. She felt him growing firm against her.
"Here?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Now?"
"Yes."
Tygra reached inside the waistband of her khakis, pushed them down past her hips; he grabbed her lightly furred behind, soft and round, pressing her into his growing bulge. Cheetara's breath was warm; she burned a trail of kisses along his throat and ran her fingers through striped fur, massaging his scalp. Tygra grunted when Cheetara's fangs replaced her lips, and the primitive sound stirred something deep inside her. Hunger overtook them; the cheetah shoved her shirt up, baring her breasts.
She pulled one hand from her rear, placing it on her breast; she sighed when his fingers closed around her, then tossed her head back so his mouth could play. Tygra thrust against her, eyes closed, sucking and kneading her breast, heavy and ripe in his mouth. Cheetara fumbled with his khakis, aching to feel his skin against hers, then out of nowhere, an unwelcome noise reached her ear.
Tygra's fingers were inside her, and she didn't want to hear anything except the sounds of their mating, but high-pitched laughter pierced the passion clouding their brains. Tygra heard it, too. It was getting louder, coming closer.
"Babe…"
She sucked in her breath, pushing his hand away. "We have to—"
"Damn!" he snarled.
The kittens were almost on them.
Tygra groaned in frustration as Cheetara wrenched herself free. She half fell out of his arms and just managed to straighten her clothing before the twins burst into view. He licked his fingers, savoring her essence. It would have to do, for now.
Kat ran up first. "What're you doing?"
"Ohhh!" Kit smacked her lips, imitating kissing sounds. "I know what they were doing."
The striped cat rolled his eyes. "Then why are you still here?"
"Tygra!" Cheetara squealed.
Kit ignored him. "Lion-O promised you'd tell us about your adventure."
"And we've been waiting and waiting," Kat added, frowning.
Kit continued her sass. "You can kissy-face later."
Cheetara blushed, relieved that's all the kids thought they were doing. She turned to her lover; he could almost hear her ask, "Rain check?" But Cheetara dropped her eyes to his crotch, wet her lips, and smiled. Tygra was learning his mate could be quite the little minx.
"A promise is a promise," she said.
Tygra swallowed hard and discreetly adjusted himself. "All right, kids," he relented, reaching for Cheetara's hand. "Let's head back to camp and get everyone together. I only want to tell this story once."
– o –
Tygra's sleep was restless; he was dreaming. It felt as if weeks had passed since he'd made love to Cheetara; his desire for her was spinning out of control. This dream was proof of it. Her tightness, gripping and releasing him, felt amazing, but it was also doing new things, odd breathtaking things it had never done before. He tugged at hips, suddenly covered with long silky fur, easing in and out of her heat. Part of him wondered how she was able to stroke and curl herself around his sensitive glans, but the rest of him didn't care. She was giving him indescribable pleasure; a lascivious growl erupted from his throat.
His lover cupped his testicles, squeezing gently, and he felt it down to his toes. Heavy lids shuttered chocolate eyes; a million stars exploded behind them. Tygra worked her sex hungrily, maximizing the intense sensations holding sway over him. He withdrew almost completely, only to push aside plump, moist lips to own her again. It. felt. so. good. She was warm, wet, and demanding. He fought against the inevitable, but the storm was overtaking him, and he didn't know how much longer he could hold it back. Tygra choked back a full-fledged roar.
Two words formed in his lust-soaked brain. Want. Need. Tygra struggled to wake up. But even as he forced his eyes open, raw excitement continued to mount. The swell of desire was so consuming, all he could do was hold on. Then he spied her golden head bobbing over him. He wasn't dreaming, and he wasn't where he expected to be. Cheetara's luscious mouth feasted on him; her pink eyes blazed with naked delight. Her soft purring made him twitch eagerly in her mouth, and the movement thrilled her. She sucked and licked him greedily, clearly enjoying herself.
Tygra's insides tightened. Seeing himself in her mouth made him dizzy; he was swiftly losing control. He pushed against the soft tissue of her throat, causing her to swallow around him, her throat muscles massaging his head, forcing him beyond endurance. Firm butt cheeks scrunched together; he grabbed a fistful of bedsheets, and this time, he did roar. An electrifying surge shot through him, robbing him of all thought. Tygra's body spasmed violently, releasing a thick stream of fluid down her throat.
Cheetara accepted his essence as if drinking the finest wine, buried her face in his fur, and inhaled his musky scent. She loved the way Tygra smelled; she loved smelling him on herself. It made her feel sexy, loved, and a little bit naughty. She pushed flaxen hair back from her face, slinked up his body, and snuggled beside him. She flung an arm across his chest, followed by a shapely leg over his thighs, ample breasts nestled against him, and Tygra gathered her close, chuffing contentedly.
"I couldn't sleep," she said casually. "And I've wanted to do that for a while now."
Tygra's breath caught in his throat. "Well, damn."
"You wouldn't let me if you'd been awake." She smoothed the fur on his chest. "You've claimed all of me; why shouldn't I do the same?"
He rubbed his nose in her hair. "Because you're a cleric and my love."
Cheetara scoffed. She raised her eyes to stare at him as if he'd lost his mind. "Are you serious? That's your reason?"
"Yes. It was."
"And now?"
The corners of his eyes crinkled; he stroked her shoulder. "You can have your way with me anytime you want."
"I'm still a cleric," she pointed out.
"That you are."
She squinted at him dubiously. "Am I still your love?"
"You've always been my love." His voice turned smoky, intimate, sending shivers down Cheetara's spine. "You always will be."
"Then don't hold anything back from me."
"I won't."
Tygra traced her lips with his tongue, then covered her mouth with his. She was sweet, seasoned with his saltiness. He caressed the curve of her hip, moved lower to stroke her thighs, worming his fingers between them. She opened herself up for him, allowing full access to tease and massage her sensitive places. Cheetara mewled under his touch. He knew her body well, had learned every spot that would dissolve into a puddle of desire at his slightest caress. Armed with this power, he drove her crazy. She pressed his nimble fingers into her trembling flesh, mewling morphed into strangled sobs. Tygra repositioned their bodies, rolling Cheetara on her side so that her back was to him. His fingers returned to her center, soaking with her feminine juices; he continued to probe and swirl inside her while his free hand fondled her breasts.
He seized her mouth again; her nipples pebbled beneath his impudent fingers, working in tandem with the intoxicating pull of his tongue and lips. His erection bumped against her, itching to press home; Cheetara whimpered, raising her hips, begging to be taken. Her insides throbbed; the need to be dominated and possessed, to be stuffed until she could taste him, was suffocating. Tygra continued to pleasure her with his hands and mouth. He inhaled her scent, ripe with longing, determined to bend her body completely to his will. Cheetara was on fire, incapable of subtly or finesse.
"Fuck me! Now!" she panted.
Tygra rammed into her blindly. The rudeness of his entry caused a burst of color behind her eyes; she cried out, and concern forced its way through the curtain of lust subjugating his mind.
"Do you want me to stop?" His voice was hoarse.
Cheetara blinked back tears as the shock subsided; she felt herself expanding to accommodate his girth.
"No," she gasped. "Don't stop."
Her muscles grabbed him, clenching hard, and he rocked against her in response. Warmth spread through her vagina to her thighs and down her legs to toes curled in ecstasy. Tygra pulled her leg up over his hip, spreading her wide, his grunts harsh, rough. He alternated between deep, deliberate thrusts and quick, short strokes while manipulating her excitable bud. Lights exploded in her head. The feelings rolling through her were too intense, too extreme to contain. She writhed against him, moaning, clawing, the flood of sensation making her wild. Just when she thought she'd either faint or die from the relentless waves of pleasure slamming against her, Cheetara's mind splintered into a million pieces. She arched her back, quaking from ecstasy, reduced to a mass of quivering flesh.
As wonderful as her mouth felt on him, being sheathed deep inside her body was ever more satisfying. Tygra swelled within her, muscles tensed and cramped as everything in him went numb except the incredible sensations riding him as he rubbed against Cheetara's hot, wet walls. He grasped her hips, pumped hard and fast, filling her with every inch of himself, bumping against her cervix until his sensitive head could stand no more. He raced past the edge of reason; his orgasm swallowed him whole, and he groaned as if in the throes of the most exquisite pain.
Tygra emptied every ounce of his passion into his mate, coating her insides with thick fluid; it shot into her cervix, spreading into her womb. He convulsed one final time, then sank into euphoria. Cheetara felt him withdraw as his body relaxed; his overflow leaked out of her swollen lips and dripped onto the bedsheets.
Tygra draped an arm across her breasts, pulling her close. He threw a muscled leg over her possessively, nuzzled her ear with his nose. This quiet intimacy after a furious, almost brutal coupling made her feel treasured, cherished.
"I'm sorry," he said against her ear. "I didn't mean to hurt you, love."
"I know." Her voice was dreamy; she was sated, spent.
"I got a little carried away."
He gently raked the side of her neck with his fangs; the scent of their lovemaking hung heavy in the air.
"Forgive me?"
"Forgiven. I know you can be…vigorous." She nestled closer. "I should have chosen my words more carefully."
"'Fuck me now?'" Tygra sounded shocked. "By the gods, woman, you're a cleric."
"Is that going to be your go-to now?" she countered.
He snorted. "No, you just surprised me."
"Stop being surprised by anything I say or do in the heat of passion," her voice was sleepy, little more than a whisper. "Besides, I kind of forget I'm a cleric when you make love to me."
He applied subtle pressure, piercing her flesh. Specs of red appeared on her tawny fur.
"Ahh, Cheetara," Tygra's voice was full of emotion. "I forget everything when I'm inside you." He soothed the tiny punctures with his tongue, cradling her in his arms.
They lay tangled together until Cheetara's even breathing told him she'd fallen asleep. He couldn't decide if he should lay with her all night or carry her to her own bed. The temptation to make love to her first thing in the morning was great, but guarding their privacy was greater. Wasn't that the reason he'd asked Ro-Bear Bill to soundproof the pads? He allowed himself a few more minutes to bask in the afterglow of their lovemaking, inhaling her delicious scent, having her body molded to his. Finally, Tygra draped his blanket over Cheetara, lifted her gently, and carried his sleeping beauty to her bed.
– o –
Cheetara woke slowly. It took a moment to realize she was in her bed alone. But muscle memory was a glorious thing. She could still feel Tygra inside her; the stickiness between her thighs, along with his scent trapped in her fur, was proof that they'd spent their time together well. Images of hybrid kittens danced through her mind. One day…
Someone tapped on the door. Cheetara pulled the covers over her nakedness before giving permission to enter.
"Morning," Kit said brightly. "Can we shower together today? I love it when you wash my ears. It reminds me of home and mama."
The cleric smiled. "Of course. Are you ready now?"
"Yes, but Lion-O's in there. I called dibs next."
"I'll meet you in fifteen?"
The kitten nodded happily and bounded out of the room. At the appointed time, Cheetara pulled on her robe, grabbed soap, Meadowsweet, a new herb she'd found, and headed toward the shower. Kit loitered outside the head, but she pounded on the door impatiently when she saw Cheetara approaching.
"Time's up, Lion-O!"
A minute later, the lock disengaged, the door opened, and a smiling, damp lion appeared completely dressed except for his armor. "Ladies," he nodded cheerfully.
The king could not ignore the shapely, robe-clad cheetah; his eyes lingered just a little too long, and she noticed. Lion-O kept moving but caught his brother's scent as he passed by the spotted cat. Tygra's one lucky cat, he thought as the door closed behind the females, and I've got to stop noticing his mate.
The Thundercats were on the move within the hour. Once they were on the open road, Lion-O sought out the cleric.
"I'm sorry, Cheetara. I didn't mean any disrespect earlier or to make you feel uncomfortable. But I've got eyes, and you're, you're just so darn pretty."
He was careful not to slip up with words like "sexy" or "desirable," but she wasn't grading on a curve. Cheetara did not forgive inappropriate behavior.
"I accept your apology," she said, "but not the excuse. The ogling? Try harder not to do it. I'm a person, not a thing."
"Yes," he said, feeling like a contrite, chastised little boy instead of a king. "I will."
"Where is the Book of Omens pointing us now?"
Lion-O would never stop being amazed by how good she was at compartmentalizing. She didn't get hung up on situations when there were more important matters to consider. It was a lesson he was still trying to master. Cheetara's beauty was just one part of who she was, and in the scheme of things, only a tiny part.
The cheetah was intelligent, loyal, and honorable. She was a cleric, a warrior, a Thundercat. He finally understood that Tygra had never fallen for her looks; he'd fallen for the entire package and, apparently, had done so long ago. They were undoubtedly in a physical relationship, but Tygra's love, respect, and admiration for Cheetara went far beyond sexual gratification. It was time to stop thinking about her with his male parts; it was time to fully recognize and respect her for the skilled, qualified cat she was.
The king sat on the bench across from his cleric; he told her how he'd interpreted the book's hints, shared his thoughts about how they should go about locating the next stone. She listened attentively, asking a question here and there.
"So, what do you think? Have I missed anything?"
Cheetara shook her head, impressed. "I don't think so."
"I hope Panthro and Tygra agree."
"Just remember if they do have questions or suggestions, they're not challenging you. They're giving you more options to think about. A king must use every resource at his disposal."
Lion-O nodded. "Believe it or not, I've come to understand that. But thank you, Cheetara. Thanks for everything."
She smiled to herself, watching him leave. Slowly but surely, he was becoming a king they could be proud of.