Uncaged Read online

  “Aye, step into my office, love.”

  Bruce followed the heavy set woman. The lantern caught the flash of her fiery red hair as she walked through the kitchen into a small corner office. He shut the door behind him.

  “Where’s Bart?” Amanda struggled to catch her breath.

  Bruce shrugged. “I haven’t seen him since we separated. It‘s been years.”

  Amelia nodded, folding her arms across her chest. “But that was your plan, right?”

  “Aye.”

  “Well what are you doing here, love? I never expected to see your face again. You said you’d never come back.”

  “They caught me.”

  “What?” Amelia covered her mouth with her hands.

  “They trapped me and then drugged me. I woke up locked in a cage aboard a ship, headed home or what was once home.”

  “Are you going back?”

  He shrugged again. Nowadays he was sure of nothing.

  “What’s gotten into you Bruce? You detest living life as a man. Were you unhappy in Africa?”

  “It was pure bliss, for a while.”

  “Go on,” Amelia urged, pulling up a chair. Bruce sat down across from her.

  “I even met my mate.”

  “A pure bred, just like you’d always wanted?”

  “Yes. Oh, she was so lovely, Amelia. You would have loved her too.”

  Amelia snorted. “I doubt she’d have gotten along with an old owl.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “She must be sick over your capture!”

  Bruce took a deep breath. “She’s dead. Been dead for five years.”

  “Oh lord no!”

  “A tribe killed her.”

  “You got your revenge I suspect?”

  “I did.” Bruce’s features darkened. He knew she could read his mind, remembering his old friend’s keen skills of perception. A natural instinct for any owl shiftie.

  “Now, now dear. We don’t need to talk about it. Unless you need to, love. Do you need money? Food? You must be starved.”

  “No, I’ve eaten. Actually I fared pretty well on the ship. I saw the key. Dumb blokes left it in plain sight. I shifted, managed to angle a broom just so and freed myself.”

  Amelia slapped her knee. “Humans can be unbelievably careless.”

  “I blended in rather well. Stole some clothes and started work as a shipmate. Over half the crew fell ill with scurvy and that vile coughing disease. Even the captain. I took over.”

  “That a boy! I’m not surprised at all. Not in the least.”

  “I need a safe place to keep this bag of money I scuttled away from the captain.” Bruce held the bag out. Amelia doubled over in laughter.

  “You thief!”

  “I found a little something else that he had under lock and key, too.”

  Amelia gasped and leaned closer, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Pray tell!”

  “His daughter, a lovely creature.”

  Amelia frowned. “Bruce! You’re bedding a pure bred human?”

  A wide grin covered his face. His crooked tooth caught on his full lip. “I am. I’d forgotten the love of a good woman.”

  “Probably because you’ve never experienced it. They’re all beasts!”

  Bruce laughed. “She’s nothing of the sort. Funny, that’s what she called me when she refers to the lion that got away.”

  “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll cut her loose.”

  Bruce grunted. “Not a chance. I’ll bring her by. I’ll warrant you’ll be as smitten as I. She’s delightful in every way.”

  Amelia sighed. “Ah, that’s why you’re stumped now. You don’t want to go back to Africa and leave her here.”

  “You’d be right. I’m in love. I think I may even get used to being a man.”

  “Have you had a fresh kill?”

  “Of course not! Who was I to kill? A sailor? I was stuck on the bloody ocean.”

  “You’ll need to feast soon. You’ll drain yourself.”

  “I feel fine.”

  “I can connect you to the right people and get you back on a ship headed home in a fortnight.”

  Bruce shook his head. “Don’t bother. If I need to kill, I’ll go into the forest.”

  “And live off bunnies? There aren’t many deer left in the outskirts. The clan has pretty much extinguished them in these parts.”

  “Then I’ll go beyond London. I have the money to travel if need be. I do have another favor to ask of you.”

  “Name it.”

  “Do you have any connections to Parliament?”

  “Aye. One, but a small one at that. Why?”

  “I need a job.”

  “In The House of Lords?”

  “Aye. I told Wren I’m a solicitor.”

  “Wren?”

  “The captain’s daughter.”

  “Tell me you’re bloody lying, Bruce!”

  ~*~

  It had been two days since Bruce had seen Wren. The mere sight of her grand home looming beyond the swirling dust was enough to tighten his breeches. He kicked the stallion in the side, urging him forward. Orange rays of first light hit the back of the home, streaming over the roof in bursts. Doves cooed in the branches overhead as Bruce guided the horse onto the red dirt road that led to the big house. He was surprised to see her sitting on the porch swing, waiting for him. He’d half expected to rouse the entire house, waking the servants first. Wren stood when he waved. The sight of her all fresh and pretty in a flowing, white dress stole his breath. Two days had been too long. Bruce stopped at the bottom of a flight of stairs where he swung off the horse and tied him to the post. Wren bounded down the steps and flung herself into his arms.

  “Oh, Bruce! I’ve missed you terribly!”

  Picking her off her feet, he twirled her around. “You are a sight! Let me look at you.”

  Bruce pulled away to look down at her. She ran a shaky hand through his hair, noting the gleam and the shine. For the first time, both of them were squeaky clean. There hadn’t been much chance for a bath while on the ship, though Bruce had managed to deliver buckets of water to Wren’s quarters in order for her to clean up somewhat. Wren’s hair was tied back with an ivory ribbon, showing off the pale blue cameo tied around her neck with a swathe of black velvet. Bruce growled. Wren giggled and then he dove at her neck, planting warm kisses behind her ear.

  “You smell good enough to eat, my love.”

  Wren smiled as he wrapped both arms around her, pulling her to him. Bruce wore pale riding breeches and ebony riding boots. “And you are a sight to behold, sir. You’ll have even the grandest of duchesses half dazed out of their wits by your good looks alone.”

  Bruce laughed out loud. He found her childhood excitement at seeing him utterly adorable. “Stop it! Dressed like this, you’ll have every gentleman in London drooling.”

  Wren sighed, her chest heaving as she pulled him to her for another kiss. “Your charm is enough to have all the ton falling for you.”

  Bruce growled as he smiled down at her, stunned by her striking beauty, her flawless skin and bright blue eyes sparkling in the morning light. Wren smiled and then he kissed her fully on the mouth. His world stopped. Wren’s eyelids fluttered shut and she sighed into him as he pulled her tongue into his mouth, tasting her, reveling in her glorious fragrance as she pressed her body against his. Bruce felt the hardness beneath his starched breeches aching to get out and groaned. Wren’s full lips curved into a knowing smile beneath his probing mouth, making him harder.

  “Wren, I have to have you, now,” he whispered.

  “Let’s go upstairs. No one will disturb us. Father is quarantined in the farthest corner of the house.”

  “The Captain isn’t any better?”

  Wren shook her head. “He’s taken a turn for the worse.”

  “Pity,” Bruce said with a thick bite of sarcasm in his voice. “You’re sure we’ll have privacy?”

  “Quite sure, sir. I�
�ve prearranged it.”

  Bruce grinned as he arched a brow. “You little vixen, you!”

  Wren waggled her finger at him, motioning for him to follow. Bruce watched her curvy behind. Watched as the silky, ivory ribbon tied around her slender waist flitted over her rump as she climbed the stairs. He couldn’t resist, but before he did, he looked around to make sure no one else saw and then he swatted her behind with one large palm. Wren jumped and squealed. She turned around to scold him, but was silenced as he swept her off her feet and into his arms, pressing more kisses onto her heated lips. He climbed the stairs while kissing her, his boots echoing through the wide foray.

  “Left or right?” he asked as he reached the landing.

  “Left,” she responded breathless.

  “Here?”

  “No, two doors down.”

  Bruce let out an exasperated sigh. Wren watched his face as sexual frustration set in. She could see it in the lines on his forehead and the beads of sweat that snaked through his light brown sideburns. The door was open a crack. Bruce kicked it in with a heavy boot, shutting it behind him with no measure of delicacy. He carried her to the bed, depositing her softly, kissing her once and then rolling her over, onto her belly. Wren giggled as he unleashed a growl. He stood just long enough to unlace his riding breeches. Looking over her shoulder, she smiled at him. Bruce bent down to kiss the mole on the back of her left shoulder. She blinked as a lock of hair fell over one blue eye. She watched him expectantly, lying there with her fluffy skirts scattered about the coverlet. With both hands he raised her petticoat and pulled her to the edge of the bed. She hadn’t bothered with undergarments. Her tanned bottom was nestled beneath folds and folds of ruffles and lace. His prize lay in waiting, packaged and on display, ready for him to pluck up and take into his possession. He entered her from behind, swiftly. She gasped and clawed at the bed, burying her face in the plush quilts. He groaned as he dove into her again and again and then she began to make a noise akin to purring. She looked over her shoulder, her eyes smoldering with wanton desire.

  “Oh, Bruce!”

  “Wren! My love!” he grumbled between grunts.

  Wren closed her eyes, loving the way he said her name, the way the ‘n’ lingered on his lips. She was now dripping with desire. Bruce slowed down. She reveled in the excruciatingly beautiful time he took with each thrust, making it worth the beautiful ache that went along with holding back. He reached beneath her, finding her breasts, freeing them. Wren gasped as he palmed them. Her ass rose in answer, giving him full access to her aching nipples. The bed squeaked like a giant mouse with each thrust. Wren was completely lost, mesmerized by the luxurious cadence of their lovemaking. Her fear of waking the servants was soon forgotten.

  Bruce gripped the sides of her hips and pulled her onto her knees. She clawed at the quilt as he stopped to spank her and palm both cheeks, rubbing and stroking. Wren cried out in pleasure, begging for more. “Oh, please Bruce!”

  “Tell me how much you like it, my love.”

  Wren moaned, turning her face into the quilt, raising her ass higher, wanting more of this delicious play. Never had a man spanked her and made her feel so loved, so wanted, so desired. She rather liked this type of punishment. Bruce persisted. “Tell me, Wren. Tell me to spank you,” he whispered into her bent head.

  Wren lifted her head from the bed, panting with desire, moaning with need. “I love it Bruce! Please, spank me.”

  “You like it, don’t you?”

  “Mmm,” she purred.

  Bruce spanked her harder, leaving a pink palm print on her tanned flesh. The love lashing tingled, making her wetter. She was hot for him. Damp with desire, she throbbed and dripped against his swollen cock. She bucked, begging him to thrust into her again. Bruce chuckled, growing inside of her as she clenched around his erection. He groaned, tossing his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. Wren teased him, clenching, letting go and then bucking her ass back onto his cock, driving him further into her. She pushed herself up on her arms and reached behind her, finding his balls, holding them in her warm, slender fingers. Bruce gasped, opening his eyes blindly as sweat trickled down his face and chest.

  He fingered her swollen clit, finding her center, lightly tapping as he thrust again and again. Wren tossed her head back. Long, black tresses clung to his wet chest. Steams of silk flowed between them as their bodies rocked to and fro. She arched her back, riding him languidly as glorious sparks traveled through her, igniting and exploding in one swift, rocking spasm of luscious release. Bruce came with her, pulling her to him, sinking himself fully into her warmth. With one arm wrapped around her breasts and the other around her neck, pulling her face to his, he kissed her. Her screams vanished in the caverns of his warm mouth while his tongue took possession of hers, stealing her breath.

  Bruce held her to him. With overheated breath, he kissed her back to reality. He rolled her onto her side and pulled her to him, brushing the wet curls off of her face and heaving breasts. She smiled with her eyes closed. Wren thought she felt her heart skip a beat. She was in love with this man. Her waking thoughts were spent of laughing with him and making love to him. She could never imagine tiring of his love.

  It was barely morning and both of them were exhausted. Bruce kicked his boots off and pulled the quilt back over them. She sighed as she snuggled against him. She found herself thanking God for putting him on that diseased ship and bringing him to London. She couldn’t imagine living life without him. Her life, once so lonely and void of love held so much promise now.

  Chapter 4

  After spending a glorious weekend with Wren, most of it naked, Bruce dreaded leaving her behind to journey outside of London. He’d had no other choice. He was growing weaker by the day. The raw steaks he’d consumed had only increased his appetite. Bloodless hunks of cold meat did nothing to curb his craving for a fresh kill and all the sexual activity had drained him. He’d had to stop twice along the way, tying his horse to a tree so he could rest for a few hours. Never had he felt as feeble in all his life. Amelia had warned him. Now he wished he would have at least feasted on a nearby rabbit before participating in the sex marathon of the century. Just thinking of her, even in his weakened state stirred his loins.

  He had passed the last country village over two hours ago. This would have to do. He could go no further. The tantalizing scent of deer wafted through the air. Bruce swallowed the sour spittle that dripped onto his tongue, streaming in waves with every whiff. It wouldn’t be long now. He would feast for two days and return to London, satisfied. He could live a fortnight without needing a fresh kill. He’d already told Wren that he had business to attend to. Luckily she’d bought his farce.

  Bruce walked his stallion half a mile into the woods. October leaves crunched beneath his feet as he led the horse into a clearing near a trickling stream. The horse neighed.

  “All right, boy. Just a little further.”

  Bruce let go of the reigns. The horse trotted to the stream, anxious for a drink. He nodded a quick thank you. Bruce understood. The horse and he were on equal ground. Bruce dropped to his knees and cupped his hands, quenching his thirst before sitting back to sniff again. His mouth watered. A deer was close by. Its musky scent decorated the autumn air with delicious aroma. The horse finished and raised his head to look at Bruce.

  “Finished, bloke?”

  The stallion blinked his hazelnut eyes and swished his tail in answer. Bruce led him to a nearby tree and tied him. He’d have to venture into the woods to shift. No sense in scaring his traveling companion. He patted his mount’s rump and walked deeper into the woods. Tall trees, heavily overgrown with vine and lush foliage delivered him into darker seclusion where only sunlight peeked through, dappling the October leaves with patches of yellow light. He undressed quickly. He could hear animals all around him. His senses picked up the various species, sorting through their gender.

  Ah, a doe. A nice, fleshy doe.

  Saliva poured into the caverns
of his mouth. He kicked off his boots, tossed his clothes over a fallen log and crouched onto the forest floor. Leaves crunched beneath his toes. A disturbed beetle crawled over his foot, unnoticed. Bruce closed his eyes. He angled his head to the sky, sniffing the damp air as he opened his mouth, preparing to shift. It always helped to widen his jaws, to keep his teeth from cutting his gums and lips. He positioned himself on all fours and shook his head. Orange sparks flitted off his golden head. Large, padded lion’s feet sprouted from his lean flank. His round head expanded, quadrupling in size, making room for the fuzzy muzzle that grew outward. A tail sprung from his mangy behind, swishing with excitement, anxious for the kill. Sparkles rippled over his yellow fur, turning from orange to amber, like hundreds of blinking fireflies twirling and tumbling around him.

  With one shake of his massive mane, he was off, following the scent of the doe whose life would be cut short within seconds. He slowed when her scent was upon him, musty and light, a tempting combination. His tail slapped at the bark of a tree behind him. He could already taste her. Cocking his head to the side, he listened. A twig snapped. An acorn popped. She was moving toward him. He sniffed, crouching lower, hiding behind a giant fern.

  Bloody hell, she has a fawn with her! The cat licked the saliva dripping from his jowls. Christ, I’ll have to kill the baby too!

  A frightened rabbit darted past him, her long, white feet pounded over the dead leaves as fast as they would carry her. The lion squinted. He’d let her go, after all, he hadn’t come this far for only an appetizer. Now on his belly, the lion inched closer to the doe and her fawn when another scent invaded his senses. It was heartier, muskier. The lion turned his massive head ever so slowly, wanting to remain unseen and unheard. He felt the earth vibrate beneath him as something else ventured closer. He sniffed again and licked his chops. The doe and her young were safe for the time being. The beast would go after the larger prey that approached on heavy hoof. The lion watched as the buck’s horns shoved a dead, dangling branch aside. A low grumble rolled from his empty stomach. Two more steps and the buck would be only a lunge away for the lion.

  It happened so quickly the buck never knew of his fate. The gentle creature had no chance to experience fear and no chance to flee. The lion sprang from behind the fern that had concealed him with such perfection. With one swift bite to his neck, the buck’s life was cut short.