Leopard’s Rage (Leopard People #12) Read Online Christine Feehan

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Leopard People Series by Christine Feehan
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Total pages in book: 172
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
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Flambé stared at the floor, looking lost in thought, even when he had selected his natural-colored hemp rope and come up to her using his decisive walk, the one that normally would have brought her full attention to him. The center point of the rope was automatically in his hand. He ran the rope through his fingers, checking over and over to make certain there were no splinters or debris in it, although he had never used it on anyone else and it had been stored properly. Still, just moving the rope could get kinks out of it so it would lie properly against Flambé’s skin.

He ran his finger along her cheek and then down her shoulder and back, checking her body temperature before grasping both shoulders and moving her very quickly and decisively into position close to the couch in the shadowy corner of the room. He pulled her arms behind her back and quickly tied them. He used a breast harness going under her breasts and around each beautiful mound, knotting in the middle between them, framing them beautifully, straps coming up and around to the back so there was no weight on her neck. Both arms and her body would help bear the weight of her suspension.

Sevastyan ran his hand down her belly and caressed her bottom every time he moved around her with the ropes as he created his webbing to the O-ring and her right leg, now outstretched, while she balanced on her left. Every touch increased her awareness of him and of her body, of her sexual needs.

Her ankle, thigh—in two places—and waist were all connected to the O-ring for stability. He quickly wrapped his rope around her left thigh and connected it to her left ankle and slowly bent her leg until her heel touched the back of her thigh. He anchored her thigh and ankle to the O-ring so she was suspended just above the couch as if she was lying sideways on it.

Very deliberately, Sevastyan ran his hand over her body once more to check for any problems. “Are you uncomfortable? Any tingling? Blood supply cut off? Nerve endings painful?” Again, he slid his hand into her palm, checking to make certain her hands were warm.

She shook her head.

“Good then.” He reached up and gently tugged on the rope until he swung her slowly around, added another smaller rope already knotted and pressed it into her mouth like a bit—a gag, bringing the two ends around to tie them into the harness at her back. “This is a patience tie, at least my version of it, Flambé.” He turned her back around very slowly so she was facing toward the center of the room.

Sevastyan backed off until he was a distance from her. He crouched down and looked up at her, studying her carefully, her expression, her body language. He was very skilled at reading people. At reading shifters. At reading women. At interrogation.

“We have quite a bit to work out between us because, contrary to what you believe, you aren’t going to run off to wherever you think you can go to get away from me. I know you’ve got that in mind. It’s not that I blame you. I really don’t.”

He kept his tone mild. He refused to plead with her, nor did he want her to think he was asking for anything from her—he wasn’t. Shturm deserved to have his mate. He’d been good to the little leopard. He’d been careful of her. Like Sevastyan, he was rough, but he’d taken as much care as a wild brute of a creature could possibly do. There was affection there and it would only grow with each encounter between the mating pair.

“But I’ve been in this relationship from the beginning and you haven’t. You kept pulling back no matter what I did to reach out to you. You didn’t tell me one damn thing that would have helped me understand what you were thinking or feeling. You didn’t give me a way to help you physically. You didn’t tell me about your fears of shifting or what could happen.”

He could see the protest on her face, in her body language. He’d been right to gag her. She would have interrupted. Protested her innocence. She was already forming her defense instead of listening. He fell silent and rose, walking over to the table. His coffee had grown cold. In any case it was time to switch to water. He had to stay hydrated as well. The leopards would be wanting to come out to run, play and mate later in the evening. He had to be at full strength to see Flambé through it.

She looked so beautiful in the ropes. He liked this particular tie. It was simple. Not at all fancy, no special knots, and whenever he tied her hands behind her back like that, he made certain he could get them out fast in case she began to lose feeling.


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