Chapter 92: What You Do With Caught Prey
Mirabelle moaned.
Her body reacted instinctively to the pressure of Silas’s hardness.
The lynx female rubbed against him, and the panther had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from being overwhelmed by desire.
Above them, the branches swayed softly in the night breeze. Silver-blue moonlight filtered through the canopy and painted shifting patterns across the forest floor.
His mouth drifted close to her ear. She could feel his breath tickling the tiny hairs there.
"I was wrong. You aren’t a good girl."
Mirabelle giggled.
Silas fit the image of a modern BDSM love interest so perfectly that she felt as though she were secretly living out someone’s reader fantasy.
Though she had no idea whether that was simply his personality or if he actually had interests in that direction.
Maybe she should find out?
She arched her back, creating a small amount of distance between herself and the Beastman’s burning chest.
As if on command, a cool breeze swept across her sweat-damp skin. Goosebumps followed in its wake.
The movement pressed her backside even more firmly against his lower body.
He growled into her ear. The sound rolled through her like distant thunder.
Then Silas playfully bit it.
A startled hiss dissolved into a purr. The flash of pain shot straight to her core, transforming into crackling arousal along the way.
She was playing with him. Silas knew it.
At the same time, he was playing with her.
Testing how far he could go.
How she reacted to his touch.
Trying to cross boundaries he hadn’t even realized he wanted to push.
His shadows whispered suggestions to him.
And he listened eagerly.
The scent of pine, damp earth, and wildflowers surrounded them. Beneath it all lingered Mirabelle’s scent.
Warm vanilla.
Cinnamon.
Female.
Mate.
Experimentally, he let the shadows slide from the ground.
They happily wrapped themselves around her ankles.
Mirabelle didn’t resist. He took that as permission to continue.
Once more, the strands of shadow wound their way up her legs.
One moment they stroked her gently. The next, they tightened briefly. Like living, pulsing creatures, they clung to her skin.
"Huh—"
Mirabelle sucked in a startled breath.
Cool night air flooded her lungs.
The scent of pine needles prickled across her tongue.
The Beastman’s shadows had suddenly pulled her legs apart.
The male’s wandering hands drifted lower.
The touch sent a tremor through her entire body.
Her claws slid free and pierced the tree bark beneath her fingers. The rough texture scraped pleasantly against her fingertips.
The scent of resin reached her nose, sharp and fresh, but her mind was already trapped in the grip of desire.
Silas’s fingers traced across the front of her lether trousers. The soft suede allowed his touch to glide smoothly while transmitting every sensation beneath it.
His fingertips circled over her clitoris.
Each slow movement sent wave after wave through her body, flooding her nerves until everything seemed to respond to him.
Her tail, hanging between her legs now, twitched uncontrollably. Every hair stood on end, making it appear twice as fluffy as usual.
Silas took advantage of her position to press her even more firmly against his length.
With controlled movements, he rolled his hips forward and back.
The lynx female could feel his strength. The heat of him seemed impossible to ignore.
For a few moments, her imagination drifted toward the future.
Her head lowered between her arms. Her curls followed, cascading over her shoulder toward the ground.
Between roots covered in softly glowing blue moss grew tiny white flowers whose petals opened like stars. Moonlight shimmered across dew clinging to their petals.
So that was where the delicate scent she’d noticed earlier was coming from.
The forest felt strangely alive around them.
Watching.
Listening.
But they didn’t care.
Silas’s right hand moved upward and settled between her shoulder blades, while his left continued exploring.
Every so often, it wandered to the inside of her thighs and over her mons pubis, which was beginning to feel suspiciously like torture.
The shadows tightened once more around her calves.
Silas spread the fingers of his right hand and slowly traced them up her spine.
Higher.
Higher.
A shiver followed the path of his touch. Until his hand settled at the back of her neck.
Three fingers disappeared into her hair. His thumb and little finger came to rest against her jaw.
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. The forest seemed to hold its breath with them.
His hand applied no pressure at all.
It simply held her there.
Yet that alone forced her to keep her back arched, her body stretched taut while her backside remained pressed firmly against Silas.
The tension running through her muscles only intensified everything she was feeling.
Above them, the moon cast a pale blue glow through the treetops. The shadows of the night were no longer truly black.
Instead, they carried a deep sapphire hue, shifting and flowing beneath the silver-blue light.
Suddenly, the shadow of the tree beneath Mirabelle’s claws stirred. Slowly, it peeled itself away from the trunk.
It crept along the bark before winding itself around her wrist.
The touch felt surprisingly cool against her skin.
Then the shadow gently pulled her claws free from the tree. Fresh resin scented the air once more.
A moment later, her hands were guided upward. Mirabelle could feel it happening but couldn’t see it. Silas’s hand still rested against the back of her neck, keeping her attention fixed elsewhere.
Experimentally, she tugged against the restraints.
The shadows didn’t yield even a fraction.
It felt as though she were trying to break free from iron shackles. Only these didn’t bite into her skin.
Instead, they flowed around her like liquid darkness, constantly adjusting their shape so the pressure remained perfectly even.
’Fascinating.’
Under different circumstances, she might have spent hours trying to understand how his ability worked.
Right now, however, her brain had no resources available for scientific inquiry.
Yet another wave of sensation scattered every coherent thought.
"You wear too much," Silas observed.
His fingers continued their slow torment.
At the same time, the steady pressure of his body against hers never ceased. And his hips continued to grind against her backside
"True," was all Mirabelle managed. The answer emerged breathless.
A moment later, she found enough concentration for one more thought.
"You too."
For a heartbeat, silence hung between them.
Then a low laugh rumbled through Silas’s chest. The sound vibrated against her ass.
"Then let’s fix that."
Immediately, shadows surged forward. They reached for Mirabelle’s damp shirt, carefully peeling the fabric from her skin before tearing it apart with a soft ripping sound.
The individual strips surrendered to gravity and drifted toward the forest floor, carried by the night breeze.
Freed from the clinging fabric, her skin seemed to breathe again as cool air washed over it.
Moonlight spilled across her bare shoulders and back.
Even her breasts were now exposed. They pressed lightly against the tree trunk, cushioned by a thin layer of shadow, catching the pale blue glow filtering through the canopy above.
"Stay like that," Silas ordered.
Then he stepped away.
Only he knew how much willpower that cost him. His cock twitched in irritation, already missing her warmth.
With efficient movements, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head.
Next came his boots.
Then his trousers.
Finally, his smallclothes joined them on the forest floor.
Moonlight flowed across his naked body. The blue glow softened the sharp lines of his muscles and gave his dark skin an almost ethereal appearance.
His cultivation marks and tattoos looked darker than ever beneath the silver-blue light.
Behind him, the yellow phantom panther appeared once more.
It sat silently among the trees.
Watching. Its tail tip twitched with restless anticipation.
For a moment, Silas simply looked at her. Moonlight danced across her bare back while the leaves overhead swayed gently in the wind.
The forest seemed suspended in time.
Then he directed his attention toward her remaining clothes. This time his shadows worked more carefully.
They slipped beneath the fabric and eased it away without damaging it. He had to admit that earlier he had lost control for a moment.
That couldn’t happen again. He intended to enjoy every second with Mirabelle.
When she finally stood before him with nothing left to hide, bathed in moonlight and framed by living shadows, his breath caught.
For a heartbeat she looked like some captive goddess stolen from an old legend.
The sight was almost painfully beautiful.
As suddenly as she was exposed, Mirabelle felt vulnerable.
Only for a moment.
Strangely, the feeling transformed into excitement almost immediately.
She could feel Silas’s attention on her.
Warm.
Intense.
Impossible to ignore.
The forest seemed quieter now.
The wind softer.
The distant sounds of insects and rustling leaves faded into the background until only the space between them remained.
Teasingly, she slowly lifted her tail, arching her back even further and showing him just how much desire had left her slick.
