Take me, p.1
Take Me, page 1
Copyright © 2025, 2009 by Crystal Jordan
Second Edition
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Cover art by Olena Hill
Edits by Twin Tweaks Editing
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
About Crystal Jordan
Also by Crystal Jordan
Excerpt from Need Me
Chapter 1
God help her. Andrea pinched her eyes closed, praying that her flight would never end, that she’d never have to go back home. Her heart raced and she tightened her fingers around the strap of her leather purse so hard she snapped it in half. Shit. Her stomach clenched.
She glanced around to make sure no one had noticed and shoved her bag onto the floor, tucking in the broken strap. She smoothed a hand down her khaki skirt and crossed her sandaled feet, trying to act casual. A woman as slender as she was shouldn’t have the upper body strength to break a thick piece of leather—but then again, she wasn’t just a woman. She was a Panther. And if she didn’t get ahold of herself, she’d be a shapeshifter in a boatload of trouble with her Pride members. She swallowed and shut her eyes again, taking deep, calming breaths.
The smell of so many humans packed into such a small space was giving her a headache. Their energy hummed around her, vibrating against her nerves. Of course, in the mood she was in, just about anything would be enough to wind her tighter. God, she needed a drink. And if she didn’t need all her wits about her when she came face to face with her family, she’d be sucking down the little bottles of booze the flight attendant had offered her.
“Ms. Cruz?” A light male voice sounded to her right.
She jolted and opened her eyes to see a slender man in his mid-twenties crouching in the airplane’s aisle next to her seat. “Yes?”
He beamed. “I thought that was you.”
Arching a brow, she pushed away her anxiety and tried to hide a grin. It wasn’t often that she was recognized anymore. She’d quit modeling almost four years ago to start her own clothing company, Pantheras Designs. “What can I do for you?”
“I just wanted to say that I love your new men’s line.” He rolled his wide blue eyes dramatically. “My boyfriend and I spend way too much buying your clothes.”
She chuckled quietly, relieved that he wasn’t going to make a sad attempt at hitting on her like men who’d spent their teen years staring at glossy photos of her in a bikini. “I’m flattered. Thank you.”
He gave her a sheepish smile. “My boyfriend will never believe I met you. Would you mind taking a picture with me?”
“Not at all.” Anything to distract her from the dread that coiled tighter and tighter inside her with every passing moment.
“Let me grab my phone.” The young man pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and pushed a few buttons. Turning on his heels, he leaned back toward her and lifted the phone to just above his face and tilted it down. She angled her head so that she was next to him, conscious after so many years in front of a camera of just how to position her body, her neck, her face to show off her features best. He snapped a few pictures and then flipped the phone around so he could see the images. “This is awesome. You look phenomenal.”
“Thank you.” Her gaze slid over the pictures. Yep, she still had it. She grinned.
“Excuse me, but you’re not supposed to be in the first-class cabin. You’ll need to go back to economy.” A flight attendant hurried up to scold the young man.
He flushed a dark red, jerked to his feet, and fumbled with his cell. “Oh, right. I’m sorry.”
Andrea caught his wrist before he scurried back to his seat. He looked down at her, embarrassment reflecting in his blue eyes. She squeezed his arm. “It was very nice meeting you. You made my day.”
“Thanks for the photos.” Huffing a laugh, he stuffed his phone into his pocket. “I bet you have somewhere glamorous to go tonight, so I doubt this could make your day.”
“Trust me, it could.” She smiled and let him go. The kid had no idea. But, then, most humans couldn’t guess at the life she led. Secrets, lies, and hiding her true nature were something she’d done every day for the last fourteen years. No human could ever know about her kind, so since she’d left the Pride at eighteen, it was the rare occasion that she’d been able to let her feral side loose and change forms. Only with her best friend, Pilar Medina, had she really been able to be herself. Like her, Pilar was a Panther living away from her Pride, while she danced in the New York City Ballet. Sadly, Pilar’s ballet was on tour at the moment, leaving Andrea to face the Cruzes alone. Then again, only Andrea belonged to the ruling family of the Pride, which meant her position in the Pride was much more complicated than her friend’s.
She’d stayed away as long as possible, avoiding her brother’s summons by claiming she had contractual obligations to fulfill before she could return to San Francisco.
Twenty-two extra months of freedom.
But her brother and his mate, Solana, were having their first child and Andrea was required to take a loyalty oath to the new heir of the North American Panther Pride. There was no more escape for her. She knew once she returned, her brother would never let her leave again. A low moan caught in her throat. That was the last thing she wanted—to be trapped forever, a showpiece for her Pride and nothing more. They’d parade her around to all the other Prides until she found her mate and then the only point to her life would be to breed.
It still blew her mind that her brother had mated to Solana Perez—a former outcast from their Pride. When Andrea had last seen her, Solana was a non-shifter. A Panther who couldn’t assume animal form. Such people were second-class citizens in the Panther Prides because only in Panther form could their kind breed, and the population was so scarce that they had to consciously work on making sure enough children were born each generation. Or they would die out. Extinction was an ugly prospect for everyone.
While Andrea could understand why non-shifters were seen as “less than” she disagreed with the idea that breeding was the most important function a person could perform. Her father had believed it though—his archaic attitudes had caused so many arguments between them that she’d given up ever co-existing peacefully with him and left to make her way in the human world when she came of age. She hadn’t seen her older brother since she was fourteen and he was a cocky nineteen-year-old on his way to serve as the South American Panther Pride leader’s second in command. Would he be as conservative—as stifling—as their father?
Nausea pitched in her stomach. She wanted to tell herself it was the mild turbulence as the plane circled to land at SFO, but she knew that was a lie.
Time seemed to speed, blurring as it whipped past. The next thing she knew, she was standing by the luggage carousel to collect her bag. There it was. She reached for the handle when a large male hand curved around her and lifted it for her.
“Andrea Cruz?” His breath moved the short hairs at the back of her neck.
A ripple of awareness went up her spine at the controlled voice behind her. She had to see the man attached to it. Some instinct went off in her head as she spun to face him. Her nipples tightened, thrusting against the soft fabric of her top. Gooseflesh broke down her arms, and her skin flushed with heat. Her pussy dampened, clenching with the ache of sudden want.
And then she knew.
Mate.
“Who are you?” Her voice came out a harsher demand than she’d intended, but the foundations of her world had just crumbled beneath her. She had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. Unusual for a woman as tall as she was. He was gorgeous, eyes richer than dark chocolate and long ebony hair secured at the nape of his neck. Her fingers itched to rip the tie away and bury themselves in the long strands. Would they be rough silk or satin soft? She wanted to know with a desperation that scared her.
His brows lifted and he almost smiled. Almost. “I’m your brother’s Second, Miguel Montoya.”
Second. The shock of that announcement, the horrifying memories of her father’s Second and what he’d done to her, made her stomach lurch. Oh, Christ. What the hell was she doing here? Every muscle in her body screamed at her to run, to get away from all the changes ripping through her life. She jolted when he took her elbow, and a frisson
“This way.” His grip was gentle, but she doubted she’d be able to escape unless he wanted her to. She felt herded while he ushered her out to a waiting limousine.
Her senses reeled, panic and passion spinning through her so fast she couldn’t keep up. His scent filled her nostrils, his fingers rasped against her skin, and the power of it threatened to drag her under. He gave her bag to the driver and handed her down into the open door. The leather creaked under her as she slid across the wide seat.
A gasp jerked from her when he sat beside her, plastering her against his side from shoulder to thigh. He closed the door behind him, shutting the rest of the world away to cocoon them inside the limo. Her gaze snapped to his, awareness flashing through his brown eyes. He knew. He sensed it as well. Mates. Her body heated to a boiling point, need sharper than she’d ever experienced slicing through her. Her instincts drew her to him like a moth to flame…and she wanted to be burned.
“Andrea.”
A shudder ran through her at the sound of her name on his lips. His hand curved over her leg just above her bare knee. Her fingers clamped around his wrist, stilling his movement. “We can’t.”
“I want you.” His gaze locked with hers, refusing to let her deny what was happening. They flickered to a deep gold, the color of a Panther, of change.
It was too much to resist.
She eased her grip on his wrist, sliding it up her thigh. His fingers stroked over her skin, drawing circles on the inside of her leg. Her pussy was so wet she could feel her panties dampen with her own moisture. This was absolute madness, and her mind tried to raise a protest. Her hormones didn’t care. She needed to be filled.
Easing his hand under her skirt, he pressed his fingers against the lace of her panties. A whimper escaped her throat. She lifted her leg and hooked it over his thigh to open herself as much as possible in the confines of the khaki, giving him as much access as she could. He stroked her through the lace, using it to stimulate her clit. It rasped against her sensitive tissue and she moaned. His finger slipped under her panties to thrust inside her slick channel with one harsh push. Her eyes flared wide, her hips lifting as pleasure and pain shot through her at the shock of his invasion. “Miguel.”
“Shh. You can take me.” He used the opportunity to push her skirt up to her waist and bare her to his gaze. He added a second finger and then a third, widening her. She gasped. He moved inside her in slow, hard strokes. He wasn’t gentle and she didn’t want him to be.
She reached out to touch him, slipping her fingers through his hair until it fell loose around his shoulders. Somehow it made him look more dangerous. A predator. And that made her the prey. She shivered, struggling to hold on to her sanity. “We shouldn’t do this.”
“Oh, yes. We should.” His gaze never left her, watching, controlled. She moaned a protest when his fingers withdrew from her pussy, left her empty and aching. He lifted his hand to his mouth, slowly licking her wetness from each long digit. “Come here.”
She dove for him, melding her lips with his. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, harsh and demanding, and she could taste her own wetness. Excitement spiraled tight within her. She nipped at his lower lip, suckling its fullness. His arm slid behind her back, pulling her toward him. He curved his hand under her knee, lifting her until she straddled his lap and faced away from him. The rigid length of his cock pressed against her ass. She wanted him inside her, and she arched to rub herself against him.
He reached around her and, with two sharp tugs, he ripped her panties off and tossed them on the floor of the limo. Cool air rushed over her heated flesh, the contrast making her shudder. She heard the low rasp of his zipper sliding down and it sounded loud in the close confines of the car.
The head of his dick nudged her pussy, sliding against her swollen lips. She tilted her hips to make it easy for him to push inside her. His hands guided her descent as she eased down onto his cock.
He was so big. Her fangs slid forward as the pain twisted inside. Now she knew why he’d stretched her channel with his fingers. She breathed out of her nose as he filled her to the limit and then some. Her nails turned to claws, biting into his wrists. She whimpered, but he held her in place, forcing her to adjust to his size. “I—I can’t—”
“You can.” His deep voice caressed her ears, his bellowing breath moving the hair at the base of her neck. Everything about him turned her on, made her hotter.
“Oh. My. God.”
He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her back. His palms slid up her belly, raising her camisole top over her head. The short strands of her hair swung against her cheek as she let the shirt drop to the seat beside her. He cupped her breasts from behind, pulling her back until the buttons on his shirt scored her spine.
Their breathing sounded harsh to her ears. Want, sharp and hot, whipped through her. More. Nothing had ever felt so right. Her pussy fisted around his dick, and her hips twisted. The deep friction made her moan. “I need to move.”
“Then move.” He rolled her nipples between his fingers, plucking at their stiff tips. She gasped at the intense pleasure. Reaching over her shoulder, she buried her fingers in his hair and rotated so she could kiss him again. His lips were soft, but his tongue was hard and demanding as it twined with hers. He twisted her nipples to the point of pain and wetness flooded her pussy. “Move, Andrea.”
The muscles in her thighs flexed as she lifted herself. Her slick flesh dragged against his cock. He groaned, the sound vibrating against her back. She sank down, taking all of him again. The stretch was incredible—the sweet burn of it whipping through her. Her muscles shook with the intensity of it and everything inside her craved it. Him. Her senses went wild with their deep, unutterable recognition of him. On her next downward push, he lifted into her, changing the angle of his penetration.
It was too much, too good. Her belly tightened, the drive for orgasm overtaking her. Yes. All she wanted was more of this—from him. His thrusts picked up pace and she stayed with him, moving faster and faster. Her head fell back over his shoulder and she choked on a moan. She was so very close…just a little more. Her body bowed with the intensity of her need. Tears burned her eyes, clung to her lashes before they spilled down her cheeks.
“Ask me to mark you.” His tongue slid up the side of her neck, his breath cooling the moisture on her skin when he spoke. Her fingers clenched in his hair as their hips slammed together, animal instinct driving them. He rotated his hips against her, grinding into her. His fangs pricked against her skin. “Ask me.”
“I can’t,” she sobbed. A warning went off in her head, pulling her back from the edge. Her movements stilled as too many sensations overwhelmed her, her heart and mind and body all demanding different things. The muscles in her thighs locked, and she shook under the onslaught of her warring needs. His arm wrapped around her waist, forcing her down onto the base of his cock. Her breath shuddered out.
He sucked her earlobe into his mouth, his dark hair spilling over her shoulder to tickle her sensitized nipples. She shivered. One of his fingers slid around, stroking her clit. She cried out, desperate to move again, but his arm still held her down, held her in place. She twisted, needing the deeper friction.
Her heart hammered so loudly she could hear it in her ears, and everything slowed down until she could feel each beat, each breath. All her senses focused on one need, one craving. Miguel. Only Miguel. Heat rolled through her in gathering waves until she couldn’t hold them back. Her body bowed toward him in offering, her sex clenching around his cock so tight he groaned. “Come for me, Andrea. Now.”
“Miguel, Miguel, Miguel.” She chanted his name, holding on to the one thing that felt solid as her entire sense of self burned away. The fire built and built until she screamed. And then it exploded inside her.
His hips snapped up in short, hard thrusts as he sank his cock to the hilt inside her. Then he froze, his face buried in her neck as he hissed low in his throat. A deep shudder wracked his body and his come pumped into her.
Collapsing back against him, she wrapped her arms around her torso. His hands turned over to clasp with hers, fingers twining. Tears still leaked from the corners of her eyes. “Miguel.”
