Free Slow Burn by Sascha Illyvich

his trench coat, jeans,
and a top that begged for removal because it held back beautiful breasts.
    He licked his lips. Then he smelled the dried blood and
frowned. He looked down at himself and found he’d been bathed. At least mostly.
His fingernails were still dirty. Sore, too.
    Then he stirred. And pain hit him, making him grunt.
    Sonja’s eyes shot open and her body jolted. She shook. The
wild look on her face alerted Derrick that something was flashing in her mind.
But what? What nightmares did she run from?
    The air smelled of torment, a different scent than fear.
More black, more unsettling, the energy crackled with bright white pepper and
that overwhelming sense of dread he recognized from his own energy when he woke
up to see the faces of those innocents he’d been ordered to kill. Or his
brother laying in a pool of his own blood while paramedics came to remove the
injured and presumed dead. Derrick caught Sonja’s hand and rolled onto his
side, facing her.
    “Shh.” He put his other arm around her, gripping her close
before her shakes stopped. He pressed two fingers against her lips and felt the
searing heat from the faint touch. He pressed a little harder, caressing plump
lips.
    Tears streamed down her face.
    He wanted to kiss them away.
    She opened her mouth and screamed; power flowed out from her
in a torrential force that clued him in to just how terrified the images were
that she saw.
    Then he saw them, the faces of the sad, the lonely, the
angry, those who had taken their lives. He’d seen a very brief glimpse of the
men who captured her, then his head went fuzzy. Quickly stilling his mind, he
leaned over her and did the one thing he could think of to distract her from
whatever horrors raced through her head.
    He kissed her, muffling her cries.
    She sobbed but gave herself openly to the kiss. The power
flowing from her lessened, calmness now settled around them. She still shook;
her body convulsed in his arms while she flailed this way and that, turning
from him with such force he had to use his puma strength to overpower her and
force her back to the kiss.
    Somewhere in the haze of their mingling tongues, the air
changed again, this time the scents of terror and agony faded to give way to
something dark, yet sensual. Derrick tasted her, pressing against the sweet
plumpness of her mouth against his. Eyes open, he gave her hand a light
squeeze.
    She settled, blinked, and gazed at him through her wild eyes
until her breathing slowed and she returned to the here and now. Sonja shifted
against him. She reached for his face, lithe fingers stroked his chin.
    He hardened instantly at her touch. Careful to steady his
reaction against rising hormones, Derrick moved, feeling the softness of her
breasts beneath his jacket. “You’re still wearing my coat.” He licked her chin,
then bit her neck.
    The tears stopped and she sniffled. Sonja laughed and kissed
him back, taking his face in her hands while she slid beneath him. “It fits.
Perfectly in fact. I think I’ll keep it.”
    He chuckled, a low sound that widened her eyes. He noted the
change in behavior when he stilled his mind and focused on centering her,
something he’d never really done before. Instantly, she smelled of arousal
rather than the stingy, pungent scent of fear.
    “Definitely.” She nodded. “Definitely going to keep it.”
    She stole his concentration by wriggling her soft flesh
against his; he could only process the perfectness of her arousal. He bent
down, nipped her exposed neck, and waited a moment. Her pulse beat steadily.
His puma wanted a taste of the creature beneath it.
    Hands fisted in his hair and dragged his head to hers,
forcing his mouth against hers. She tasted more sweet and savory as the
powerful thrum of lust sent blood pulsing through her. The puma knew it was
time to mate again, and with this woman.
    Derrick smelled dark fruit, the scent of her arousal dancing
over his senses. With a thumb and forefinger, he caressed