him. He found her naked breasts beneath the white flannel and laid claim with his left hand. He was ready, oh, too ready after waiting so long.
They moved down to the carpet together, and he heard her pulse quicken just as the scent of desire rose from her, something secretive and smoky and delicate. Her face was flushed under him, oh, so warm.
They removed their clothes, hurriedly, silently, and came together again, in a tangle of kisses that were almost tormenting for him.
Suddenly he felt the violent spasm in his belly and in his chest; the ecstasy moved over the surface of his entire body; the prickling pleasure paralyzed him. He fell to one side, and sat up, doubled over.
He heard her gasp.
His eyes were closed. Had it always happened that way before? Yes, at the very moment when he felt the hairs erupting from every pore, when the pleasure was one volcanic wave after another, he couldn,t actually see.
When he did open his eyes, he was standing, the mane thick and heavy over his shoulders, his hands transformed into claws. The fur was thickening into a ruff around his neck and between his legs. His muscles were singing with the power, his arms expanding, his legs pulled upwards as if by unseen hands.
He looked down at her from his new height.
She was on her knees staring up at him in obvious shock.
Shakily, she rose. She murmured some half-strangled prayer under her breath, and reached out cautiously and then quickly to touch him, to slide her fingers as she had done before into the thick outer coat that was growing denser and longer all over him.
"Like velvet!" she whispered, running her hands over his face. "So silken smooth."
He could scarcely hold back from lifting her off her feet so that he could put his lips on hers. He had all of her, naked and small and beating with passion, in his arms.
"Laura," he said in the new voice, the real voice. A divine relief coursed through him. She opened her mouth to his. That deep throbbing sound was coming from him, as if his body were a drum.
The forest crept to the windows. The rain was hissing and splashing in the gutters and in the downspouts, and rushing over the flags. The ocean wind drove at the rain and pushed against the walls.
He could hear a low vibration of the wind in the rafters, and in the softly groaning branches of the trees.
All the scents of the night had broken through the solid shell of the house, rising like steam from a thousand tiny whispering chinks and crannies. But central to all scents was the scent of her, and it went right into his brain.
Chapter Twenty
HE STOOD in the front door, the rain pelting him, and the wind whistling under the eaves.
Out there, south of here, in the redwoods that ran to the east and upwards, he heard the snorting, snuffling animal he wanted. Mountain lion slumbering. Oh, you are a worthy prey.
Laura hovered close to him, the loose collar of her nightgown held tight at her throat against the cold.
"You can,t go," she said. "You can,t risk it. You can,t bring them up here."
"No. It,s not the voices," he said. He knew he was staring glaze-eyed at the forest. He could hear the low almost guttural sound of his words. "No one will mourn this victim. She and I are creatures of the wild."
He wanted that animal, that huge hulking animal that had killed Galton,s dog, that powerful beast that was secreted deep in the brush so very close by with three of her grown cubs, big cats themselves, breathing deep in sleep, but ready to break from their mother into the savage world. The scents mingled in his nostrils.
He had to go. He could not refuse this. The hunger and restlessness would be unendurable.
He turned and bent to kiss Laura again, fearing to hurt her as he held her face gently, very gently, with his paws.
"Wait for me by the fire. Stay warm, and I promise you, I won,t be long."
He began to run as soon as he left the orbit of light surrounding the house. Swiftly, he entered the living whispering forest, running on all fours at such speed he scarce saw anything around him, the scent of the cats pulling him like a vibrant cord.
The coast winds died in the deep redwoods, and the rain was a mist against his eyes.