The Marksman

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Late night interlude.
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Lyza landed on the balcony that led to Xander's bedroom. The blinds were open, letting in the moonlight. The sliding glass door was unlocked, so she opened it slowly.

He was asleep in his bed, curled in the center like the big cat he was. Only a pair of sweatpants covered his body. She crept silently into the room, forgetting the door at her back. A soft breeze ruffled his orange and black fur, and he stirred.

She froze, caught by his gaze. His pupils narrowed to slits, and he pounced with a low growl. His hand curled around her throat; the other forced her back against the wall.

"What do you think you're doing, female?" Xander asked in a low voice. "Come to finish what you started before?"

"You knew the consequences for attempting to void the contract. While it may have been your father's actions, you also knew that I held you responsible for upholding your Family's part of the bargain. You should have stopped him. I never wanted to harm you."

"It sure seemed that way when you drew my blood. I thought we had something, sweetheart." The endearment held the promise of retribution.

"I am the Marksman. My reputation is built on fear and the knowledge that I always follow through on my threats. I cannot make any exceptions, even for you. My job is my life, and it's the only reason people respect me. It's who I am, and I cannot- will not change that."

"Then you've made your choice. Leave, before I do something I'll regret." He turned away.

"Like what?" He didn't even glance at her. "Don't you want to know why I'm here?" She took a step towards him, reached out a hand- He spun and grabbed it from the air.

"Don't touch me," he growled. She faltered, and then straightened her spine. "Leave," he ordered. "Now."

She swallowed. "No," she whispered. Using the wrist he still held as leverage, she pulled him to her and kissed him. Her free hand wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer still.

He froze for an instant in time. Then he pushed her back against the wall, never releasing her lips. He let go the wrist he'd held bound to bring his hand up and cup her face. His rough tongue nudged insistently at her mouth, and she opened to him.

The kiss was wild, rough, holding the frustration from passion long denied and the betrayal he had felt at her hands. She answered him with the lust she'd felt since their first encounter, refusing any longer to hold back what she'd felt all along.

Her legs wrapped around his waist. She spread her wings along the wall and thrust, shoving him towards the bed. It hit the back of his knees, and he fell. She straddled him and sat up, pulling off her shirt in the process before diving back down for another feral kiss.

He rolled over her, pushed her closer to the center of the bed, and pinned her hands above her head with one of his own. Then he stopped and just looked at her.

"No weapons, sweetheart?" he asked with some surprise.

"I needed none for what I was planning to do to you tonight," she told him honestly.

"And what might that be?"

"I plan to fuck you until you can't think and I can't walk."

His breath caught, eyes glowed with promise. "And what do you plan to do with me after that?"

She looked at him quizzically. "I hadn't thought that far ahead."

He laughed. "Well here's what I'm planning: for every mark you made on me, I'm going to return the favor."

Her eyes widened as she began to struggle.

"Now, now, little birdie. This cat has his prey pinned." He pressed his crotch against her core, feeling her heat. She cut off the moan that threatened to betray her. "However, I promise not to hurt you until after we've both had our fill."

She shrieked. "Bastard!"

"Hmm, yes, well I might be that," he paused to draw a claw carefully down her collar bone between her breasts to cut the small strip of fabric that held the cups of her bra in place. "but I promise you'll enjoy every minute." He nuzzled a grey laced black cup aside and gently sucked on her nipple.

She bit her lip to keep from crying out. With pleasure? Pain? She didn't know, but god, it felt good. She'd wanted him for weeks but had constantly denied the need to mate with him despite the tempting offers he had made. Now she was paying the price. Her body was on fire for him, undeterred by the threat he'd made against it. She gave in to it when his rough tongue scratched at her areola, gasping with pleasure, "More."

He smirked, and his eyes glinted as he lightly dragged a claw over her skin to her black slacks and unsnapped them. "Leave your hands where they are," he warned before dragging her pants off her hips and throwing them aside. He studied her. "I always did like your penchant for black," he told her, admiring the silk panties that were now her only covering. They were tied with little bows above her hips. He pulled the ends with his teeth, drawing in the scent of her skin and sex. "You're wet for me, aren't you sweetheart?" He licked over her now exposed slit, and she bucked. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it soon," he crooned and then proceeded to remove his sweats.

He wasn't wearing boxers. She eyed his naked flesh, wondering if it'd fit in her. Being a bird she was small, especially down there. Every guy she'd slept with was big compared to her, but Xander was a monster compared to them. She leaned up on her elbows and watched his eyes flash.

"I told you not to move, Lyza."

"Couldn't help it," she grinned cockily, "I wanted a closer look." He unconsciously thrust his hips forward. "Yeah," she said softly, as if hypnotized by his manhood, "Just a little bit closer look." She kissed the tip, lightly running her tongue over the tiny slit, barely touching it.

"Shit," he said. She looked up with a wicked gleam in her eye and took the head in her mouth, daintily sucking it before releasing him with another tiny lick. She repeated the action twice more before he pushed her back down and shoved his face in her pussy, impaling her with his tongue. She screamed and writhed against the bed. He mercilessly drove it into her again and again, holding her down until she came around his tongue.

"Fuck! Yes!" she yelled as she came. "God, that was good." He placed his cock at her hole and slowly pushed forward. She groaned, feeling herself stretched wide to accommodate him. He stopped.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"Who the fuck cares?! Fuck me, dammit!" He chuckled and continued with his slow invasion. She moaned and began cursing him for his speed even knowing he could tear her should he choose to go faster. He kissed her again to shut her up, trying to maintain his control and shaking with the effort it took.

"Not yet, sweetheart. Soon though," he grunted, "soon." He nuzzled her neck, purring deeply as he felt her tight walls squeezing him. At last he bottomed out. She barely fit his length, was still adjusting to his width. "Purrr-fect," he sighed. "God, you feel so good, Lyza." She tightened her muscles around him, and he groaned. "Don't do that again, or I'm not going to last, little birdie."

She chirped, and he looked up. She grinned and drew him down for another kiss, pouring her soul into him through the contact of their lips. Then she tightened her muscles again, harder. "Little minx," he half laughed. "I guess you're ready for me to fuck you now." He gave a slow thrust, careful of the bristles along his length.

"God, yes!" She moaned.

He kept thrusting slowly, making her wetter, spreading around her juices to help ease his passage. He watched her fists clench on the sheets as she matched his speed with her hips. The sight of her was intoxicating. This female was a drug to him, but he knew he'd never give up his addiction. The feel of her around him numbed his other senses until it was all he knew.

He increased the pace. She matched him thrust for thrust, following him with her body until neither could hold back any longer. His roar drowned out her shriek of pleasure. The barbs on his penis implanted themselves in her walls, and she came again, trying to buck him off. "Easy, sweetheart, easy" he said, breathless. He stroked her spotted indigo wings gently. "They'll go down in a minute. Be easy."

"What. The hell," she said.

"Funny thing about the anatomy of most cats, little birdie," he said by way of explanation, collapsing on her.

"Ow! You could have warned me."

"Yeah, but you deserved it." Her jaw dropped as he eased out and curled around her.

"Wha- but..."

"Shhh, sleep, sweetheart. That was my revenge, unless you'd rather I actually mark you like you did me." He closed his eyes, breathing in a slow gentle rhythm, asleep in an instant.

'Just like a cat,' she thought, stroking his orange and black hair. She folded her wings along her back and kissed his nose before burying her face in his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and they slept.

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