How to Tame a Cat (ManxMan)

Chapter Thirty-Five: Welcome Home

On the bright side, my leg doesn't hurt. Yet.

"Damn it, Ryland," I snarl, still struggling despite how pointless it is.

He just breathes out a soft chuckle at my efforts. "This will be fun," he says, which is my only warning before his free hand ghosts down my uninjured side. The action goads a drawn-out groan at the weird sensation of the growing sensitivity. Encouraged by the sound, his fingers plunge into my armpit, wiggling about. I struggle harder, my legs trying to kick out, and I shout with barely-contained laughter.

"Ry..."I start, but it is drowned out by my sudden fit of laughter as the tickling is turned up a notch by his fingers teasing my side again, skillfully finding the spots that get to me the most. It is not long before I am wiggling and thrashing with slightly breathless laughter.

Eventually, he has to take a break to allow me to breathe again and I gasp in deep lungfuls of air now that I can. It is not long into the break that I notice a familiar sensation building in my gut, leading me to moan at my luck. "You seem to be excited," Ryland says in my ear, running his hand along the edge of my waistband. "Ready to continue?"

I open my mouth to protest, but it is too late and a peel of laughter escapes instead of words. The feeling grows, my pants becoming uncomfortably tight, but the tickling alone is not enough to get me all the way there. Though, it does make my mind slightly hazy with more primal urges, as well as give me an idea to get him to stop tormenting me.

My head hits his shoulder while my hands seek out the perfect position to comfortably grab his crotch. All too soon, I have to give up since my hands are firmly stuck and certain positions make it hard to breathe, which is dangerous when I am already gasping for oxygen. So, I settle for twisting my head around during the next tickle break and kissing any part of his jaw that I can reach, wanting him to end the torture and accept my suggestion.

"Want you," I mutter in between kisses. To my relief, he does not resume the tickle torture again, letting me continue kissing his face. However, he doesn't move like I want him to, either, leaving me to resort to the one thing I hate doing the most. Begging. "Please. Need you."

His chest vibrates with a humanoid purr, but the only other sign that he is interested is the tightening of his arm around my shoulder. He makes no move to accept my offer. "What was that, amore mio?" He teasingly asks, ever-so-slowly running his free hand up and down my side. Goosebumps rise all over my skin, but the threat of him continuing only spurs me on.

"No one can interrupt us now," I answer, tilting my head back further to give him better access to my throat. When he fails to take it, I growl, which makes him laugh. A little pissed that he is still trying to play games, I turn my head and bite his neck, hard enough to leave a mark on the otherwise unblemished skin.

The snap of his control is almost audible as he releases me long enough to flip me around and push me onto my back before he has me surrounded once more, my arms stuck under me because of the damn shirt. "No take-backs," he says.

"You're five," I grumble, trying to roll my eyes at his choice of words, but failing miserably when his mouth crashes down on mine and my eyes close without my consent. Not that I am complaining, though.

"Five-year-olds don't know how to do this," he says, pulling away so that he can start nibbling on one of my nipples. His teasing makes me whine, but I definitely do not want him to stop that.

However, that does not mean I am going to hold back my reply. "Actually, a five-year-old would," I point out. At least, any child that was breast-fed would. Ryland just growls at me, since there is not much he can say back to that. However, when his mouth moves from my chest down to my navel, my little victory is suddenly not as important anymore. "Shit."