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John's deep voice whisper-sang into her ear, alternating words with the fleeting caress of his tongue tip. He purred, then licked and sang, "Kuno, saer wan naemis-al."
She sang the return pledge, "Samantha, saeran wan naemis-alen."
My name is Samantha and I exist for you...
He rolled her gently over and she lay face first against the green silk sheet. John moved down her body, singing against her skin, punctuating it with kisses along the length of her spine, all the way to her ass.
His music vibrated through her, tantalizing, promising...
She wanted more of that song, that touch. She inhaled his scent, sighing, writhing, arching herself up to him. "John-Kuno," she whispered, sleep peeling away.
"Thanks for letting me know, darling," John said, his voice soft, distant.
Sam's sex euphoria fractured. She snapped her eyelids open. The bed was empty--only the indent on the sheet remained where he had lain beside her.
Where was he, and who the hell was he calling 'darling' in that sexy drawl?
Turning, she looked through the carved ebony screen into the adjoining room. John was sitting at the digi-com, leaning forward, peering at the computer screen.
He growled low in his throat and Sam's body clenched at the sound, at the memories of what his growling led to. Except this rumble was one of anger.
John sprang to his feet and half turned to her. He wore a pair of red silk boxer shorts low over his hips. He took a step, halting in mid-stride, his hands traveling to the waistband, as if he meant to undress. And that would mean he would be returning to the bed, and her.
Sam fisted the sheet in impatience.
Changingdirection, he stalked across the room into the conservatory. He paced its confines.
She heard him swear. A mix of human and felinus. He must be really angry. But why? Something to do with 'darling'--whomever that was!
He swore again and ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head.
Sam carefully rose from the bed and padded across the carpet, halting a few feet behind him.
"If you use that sort of language, John-Kuno, maybe I ought to wash your mouth out with soap."
He whirled to confront her, a blur of speed, and she stepped back, her heart pounding. She forgot a felinus could move so inhumanly fast.
John smiled in silent welcome, but she saw his dilated pupils. He was either horny as hell or very, very angry. Since his boxer shorts weren't bulging at the front--nope, he was furious.
But with felinus, fury and sexy could be just two sides of the same coin. John had been consumed by sex-fury last night. A girl just had to know how to play her man--or cat...