On the Prowl

by Christine Warren

Saskia froze, her eyes widening. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, where the hell have you been?” he repeated, reaching out to grasp her arm and pull her into the apartment. The door snapped shut behind him with a tone of finality, and suddenly Saskia found herself standing in the barely familiar living room wringing her purse in her hands while the fiancé she’d spent the morning worrying and obsessing over glared at her like an accused criminal.

  Wasn’t that an ironic about-face?

  “Well?” he prompted, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down at her from his intimidating height.

  The female inside her urged her to open her mouth and confess, apologize, mollify her mate, but Saskia bit back the urge. She hadn’t done anything wrong. If Nicolas hadn’t wanted her to leave the apartment, then he should have told her that last night before he left. Even better, he should have stayed put himself. Then she would have had no reason to try to pry information about her own fiancé out of a near stranger.

  “Saskia…” The low growl was a warning.

  She drew back her shoulders and mustered a glare of her own. “I went out for coffee, if you must know.”

  “If I must know?” he repeated and prowled a step closer. “Oh, believe me, little tigress, I definitely must know. But why did you need to go out for coffee? I searched the entire apartment for you when I got back. I saw the pot of coffee you brewed, and your used cup in the sink. Was there something wrong with the coffee you made here?”

  He had dropped his arms and stepped forward until he loomed over her, clearly trying to bully her into feeling guilty. Well, Saskia wouldn’t have it. Deliberately, she turned her back on him and stepped away, heading toward the bedroom as if she hadn’t a care in the world. She heard him curse as he followed her, and laid a hand against her stomach to try to calm the butterflies that cavorted inside.

  “There was nothing wrong with the coffee in the kitchen,” she said, setting her purse down on the low table in the sitting area of the huge suite. After taking a fortifying breath, she turned to face him and lifted her chin defiantly. “But I like company when I drink it, and since I didn’t know when you might be back, I went out to get some.”

  The muscle in the side of Nicolas’s jaw clenched so tight, Saskia thought it might burst right through the skin. His eyes darkened to a shade of green that reminded her of dense, dimly lit forests, and when he spoke she didn’t think he managed to separate his teeth by so much as a millimeter.

  “We announced our engagement last night and you went out this morning to have coffee with another man?” he asked, his voice so deep and low, Saskia had to strain to hear it. That, more than anything, sent a chill of apprehension shivering through her.

  When the words finally registered, she gasped with indignation. “What? No! Of course I didn’t meet another man. What sort of person do you think I am?”

  Her mate’s nostrils flared and she saw his hands clench into fists at his sides.

  “I don’t know, Saskia. Why don’t you explain it to me.”

  It wasn’t a suggestion.

  “I had coffee with a friend. A female friend,” she clarified hastily when she saw his lips draw back to reveal the beginnings of fangs where his canines would normally be. “Like I said, I didn’t know when you’d be home.”

  She hated that she sounded defensive, but that was how she felt. Actually, she felt so many things at that moment, she couldn’t begin to separate them all. Anger over his disappearing act, indignation at his accusations, relief that he had returned home safely. Frustration with his typical ther attitude.

  A stirring of unwilling arousal.

  Saskia swallowed a curse and hoped he was too distracted by his own emotions to detect that last bit in her scent. For him to know she still wanted him after the way he’d treated her last night and this morning would be the final blow to her self-respect.

  “And it never occurred to you to wait for me?” he rumbled. “That it might concern me to come home and find you gone? That I might fear something had happened to you?”

  “Apparently not,” she snapped, fisting her hands on her hips and stifling the urge to scream in frustration. “Just like it apparently never occurred to you that I might worry when you left. In the middle of the night. Without a single word about where you were going or why you had to leave or when you might be back. Looks like we’re both thoughtless rudesbys.”

  Nicolas stilled in mid-prowl, his breath coming out in a hiss. “What? Is that what this was about? About getting even? Were you trying to punish me for not stopping to answer all your questions last night? I told you, I didn’t have time to explain. I needed to hurry. But somehow you decided that gave you the right to disappear like a spoiled brat playing hooky instead of waiting for me to come home?” He stalked toward her again, herding her backward until she had to dart sideways to keep from being trapped against the wall. “Because if that’s what this was, I need to tell you, it’s completely unacceptable.”

  Saskia felt her jaw drop and her eyes widen until she felt sure she resembled nothing so much as a goldfish in an oxygen-poor fishbowl. “Unacceptable?!” she sputtered.

  “Unacceptable,” he repeated, following her around the side of an armchair and toward the other end of the room. The end occupied most noticeably by the enormous carved walnut bed. “When I tell my mate to wait for me, I expect to return to find her where I left her. I do not expect to find her missing with no explanation about where she’s gone or when she’ll be back. Not that a note would have saved your ass in this case,” he mused, his eyes glinting dangerously, “but it might have kept me from spending quite so much time planning your punishment.”

  Punishment???

  That was it. Saskia reached the end of her rope and snapped free with a howl of indignation. She launched herself at her fiancé with the ferocity of a raging fury, all fiery eyes and snapping teeth. How dare he tell her she needed to be punished when he wouldn’t even acknowledge his own rude, arrogant, inconsiderate, and downright mean behavior from the night before? Oh, he was going to regret that, from the balls up, if Saskia had anything to say about it.

  He caught her attacking form in his huge, powerful hands, but he clearly hadn’t expected her to be quite so strong. That’s what blind outrage could do for a girl. He had to struggle to keep her at arm’s length, and even then avoiding her kicking feet and striking knees presented an altogether different challenge. Saskia heard him curse and hoped she was hitting something vital. She knew she hadn’t gotten at his groin yet, but just give her a chance; she was determined.

  “Goddammit, Sass! What the hell is wrong with you?” he bellowed, finally giving up on holding her away from him and twisting to tumble them both to the bed, where he could pin her more effectively with the weight of his body. “Would you calm down?”

  “Calm down? I’ll show you calm, you arrogant son of a bitch!” she screeched, and bucked beneath him like a wild animal. Which was very nearly what she’d become.

  Saskia was holding back her change by the skin of her teeth. Her already elongating and sharpening teeth. Her tigress stretched and clawed beneath her skin, demanding release. The beast had no compunction about showing an arrogant mate what Saskia thought of his ideas about crime and punishment. With four-inch claws and three-inch fangs she felt more than capable of taking on the angry male. Even if she didn’t win, she’d certainly inflict enough damage to make him pay for the way he had treated her.

  She felt her skin begin to ripple and tried to remember why shifting just now would be a bad move. She couldn’t focus. Her anger burned too hot. The tigress yowled too insistently.

  “Sass! Saskia!” Nicolas shouted above her, his green eyes burning intensely down at her. She felt his hands tighten around her wrists, shaking her, trying to snap her out of the change. She wanted to tell him he was probably too late.

  She felt him shake her again, hard, then felt him wedge his legs between hers, spreading them wide and preventing her from str
iking him the incapacitating blow she had so looked forward to. He cursed, the sound a distant echo behind the fierce impulsion to let go, to let her beast shape slip through the human covering that imprisoned it. Her body began to twist, the hair on her arms standing erect, beginning to thicken and lengthen. She could feel it coming and threw back her head, her mouth opening to welcome her savage self—

  Then Nicolas bent down and seized her lips, surging inside and transforming her fury into lust with the hard, dominant stroke of his tongue.

  Saskia froze for the space of several heartbeats; her tigress offered only a token protest, growling in surprised indignation, then melting into a purring mass of heated desire. She stopped fighting to hit her mate and instead fought to get closer, arching her body into his and wrapping her legs around his hips to pull him tight against her. In that breathless instant, she forgot why she wanted to fight him or to hurt him. Her tigress made the split-second switch from killing frenzy to mating frenzy without a whimper of protest. To the beast, passion was passion and the flavor of it mattered less than drinking it down.

  The animal sank back beneath her skin as Saskia gave in to the impulse to join with her mate. She writhed beneath him, no longer trying to get free but wanting to rub every inch of herself against every inch of him. She mewled into his mouth, torn between wanting the intimate kiss never to end and needing to lay her tongue against his skin to take in the rich, spicy taste of him.

  She felt the instant when he realized that she no longer struggled to escape him. His body stiffened, then relaxed into the intense focus of a predatory male. His fingers loosened cautiously from her wrists, hands sliding down her extended arms, ready to snap back into place should she attempt to strike him. Saskia had no such plans. As soon as she could, she lowered her arms and insinuated them between their bodies to grasp the hem of her sweater and yank the offending garment off over her head. The touch of cloth between them had become unbearable. Saskia needed to feel his skin against hers. When he drew back to give her more room, she expressed her impatience with an angry hiss.

  Nicolas growled in return, a low rumble that originated deep in his chest and that Saskia could feel vibrating against her sternum. The sensation made her shiver and reach impatiently for his sweater next. Too much cloth still lay between them. He took matters out of her hands, stripping bare to the waist, then pressing down over her, letting her feel the rough heat of his lightly haired chest pinning her to the mattress. Saskia purred her pleasure and twisted to rub her breasts against him, the sound turning to an expression of displeasure when she realized her bra still separated them. Almost before the thought had registered, Nicolas lifted a hand and swiped at the lacy fabric, slicing the garment down the center with one precisely controlled claw.

  Her breath hissed out in relief when her nipples made contact with his chest, the buds tightening into painful little points of arousal. She saw her mate’s eyes narrow, their green depth all but glowing as he stared at the hard points for a heated instant before swooping down to capture one between his lips. Saskia moaned in reaction, her arms curling around his head to cradle him against her even as she lifted to press herself into his mouth. Nothing in her life had ever felt as good as the hot furnace of his mouth drawing on her with ferocious strength. Sharp little stings of pain only seemed to make the pleasure that much greater, until she found herself whimpering with every expert tug.

  God, how she wanted him.

  Intent on urging him faster, she squeezed her legs around his hips, the heels of her gray flannel pumps digging into the small of his back as she ground her pelvis against the arousal she could feel straining between them. Again, the feel of layers of fabric separating them made her furious and she released his head to grab at the waistband of his jeans and tug angrily. She didn’t even notice the sound of denim ripping, just allowed her hands to skate appreciatively over the bare skin she exposed.

  Nicolas released her nipple with a pop and reared over her, ignoring her furious roar as he efficiently rid himself of the last of his clothing. Saskia’s eyes greedily drank in his nude form, roaming happily over the heavy width of his shoulders, the long plane of his torso, and the thick muscling of his thighs. When her gaze skated to his erection, she felt her eyes widen with a mixture of hunger and apprehension. As impressive as the rest of him, his penis stretched long and thick over the taut muscles of his belly, the head gleaming with proof of his arousal. As if the size of him had left any doubts.

  While she stared, her mate moved swiftly to deal with her own unnecessary garments. He flung her shoes in the general direction of her closet, flicked open the fastening of her trousers, and yanked the cloth down and away, taking her lacy panties with them. Clearly uncaring, he tossed everything aside and took a moment to stare at her pale, creamy nakedness before dropping his knees to the foot of the bed and crawling toward her like the hungry predator he was.

  Her muscles tensed involuntarily. Instinct screamed at her to run, flee, escape, before she found herself devoured whole. But Saskia didn’t want to escape; she wanted to be devoured, and she wanted this man to do it. Under her skin, her tigress recognized its mate and stretched in luxurious welcome.

  Nicolas’s eyes glowed a bright, intense emerald as he flowed toward her, muscles rippling and flexing in a breathtaking display of masculine power and beauty. Instinctively Saskia gathered herself into a crouch, pulling her legs up under her and shifting her weight forward until she balanced gracefully on her palms and the soles of her feet, her eyes fixed on her approaching mate. With her knees drawn up to her shoulders and her hands pressed to the mattress between her legs, she presented a tantalizing picture to the hungry male. The position stretched her open, placing her sex on vivid display, but her arms partially shielded her, leaving her mate to catch fleeting glimpses of his ultimate goal.

  He prowled closer, lowering his head and inhaling deeply to draw her scent inside him. She saw the way his eyelids drooped and his nostrils flared, as if he found her intoxicating, and she felt a surge of feminine satisfaction. He pressed his face to her chest and nuzzled, then trailed a path up to her shoulder with broad swipes of his tongue. When he reached the graceful curve he bared his teeth and nipped sharply. Rather than causing pain, the sharp bite made her purr, and she tilted her head to rub her cheek against his. The crisp rasp of stubble told her he hadn’t bothered to shave when he returned to the apartment, and she savored the tactile pleasure of emerging whiskers.

  Her mate growled softly, more a promise than a threat, and crowded closer to her. If she’d had a tail, it would have twitched in response. As it was, her tigress made do, sending her body twisting and turning until she dropped to her knees and faced the head of the bed, insinuating herself between Nicolas’s arms and backing into him. With her bottom nestled against his groin, she arched her back like the cat she was and rubbed skin to skin in blatant invitation.

  Nicolas didn’t need to be asked twice.

  With a dark rumble of satisfaction, he shifted his weight forward, covering her like a blanket. His chin hooked over her shoulder and nuzzled briefly before his teeth closed around the tender lobe of her ear in a primitive warning. He was done playing. Now he intended to claim his mate.

  Saskia shivered at the feel of his big body surrounding hers. Warm skin pressed against her everywhere, his muscled thighs to the backs of hers, hard stomach and chest pinned against her back. His arms braced just under hers to bracket her in place. With his size and strength, he had her trapped. She couldn’t have gotten away if she’d wanted to, but escaping was the furthest thought from her mind. She reveled in his overwhelming presence. Her body heated at the mere smell of him, the sensation of bare skin against bare skin making her soften and flood with moisture at her core. She wanted him, woman to man, mate to mate.

  Needed him.

  Desperately.

  Her breath caught in her throat as he moved behind her with elegant power. A twist of his hips, a curve of his spine, and she felt his
erection slide between her swollen lips, searching for her entrance. She tilted her pelvis eagerly, choking on a gasp when he found his mark and began to sink into her. The broad head of his cock spread her open, stretched her to receive him. She felt a sharp sting, then a steady, itching burn as her body struggled against his invasion. The rough texture of the spines that encircled his glans rasped against her inner walls and made her whine, high and desperate. Instinctively she shifted as if to escape, and her mate snarled a warning. Saskia panted, pleasure and discomfort blending in a tangled mess of overwhelming sensation. She needed more, needed to get away, needed something so badly she could taste it, dark and bitter at the back of her throat.

  Her fingers scrabbled at the bedclothes and she shifted her weight forward, trying to slide out from under her aroused mate. Nicolas roared and thrust his hips forward, even as his head dropped, teeth closing hard over her shoulder to pin her in place. She felt him enter deeper, working his way into her with shallow digs of his hips until, with a lunge, he broke through her internal barrier and slid home on a single, powerful thrust.

  Saskia screamed. It started out as a sound of shock, of outrage at the physical insult to her body, but within the space of a heartbeat it became a primitive expression of exultation. Nicolas echoed it with a yowl of his own. She heard the savage satisfaction in his tone, the possessive note that told her he knew no other man had ever claimed her, and she shivered in reaction. Her virginity had never mattered to Saskia; she had kept it merely from a lack of motivation to be rid of it, and because in the back of her mind she had always felt as if she already belonged to Nicolas. The fact that he noticed and gloried in being the first to touch her thrilled her to her core.

  Impatient to experience more, she pressed her shoulders down into the mattress and wriggled her hips with obvious demand. Her mate purred and laved the skin where he had bitten her moments before. Then he set his teeth to her again and held her still as he began a hard, steady rhythm of claiming.