by Andie Devaux
“He’ll be here by morning. The heat will be back by then, in full.” His tone turned almost angry and his face hardened. “You’ll want him, then. You’ll need him. Hell, you’ll be ready to beg for it.”
She flew at him and slapped him across the face with all her strength and ire. He didn’t react to the slap; his head barely moved before his gaze returned to hers. But something behind his eyes took notice. And it was feral.
Inside of her, something reacted to the thing behind his eyes. Whatever it was, it wanted to attack him again. Push him. See if he was worthy.
What the fuck?
Panic rushed through her. He was right. The way she’d felt around him the last few hours…if it got worse and she was presented with a man who elicited in her the same rush of need as Owen, she’d be lost. And some part of her wanted it. The tiger part—if she could believe Owen.
No. She wasn’t a tiger. And she definitely wasn’t going to let hormones of any kind decide her fate.
“Fine, then, I’ll leave. Unless you plan on trying to keep me here by force,” she said.
A flash of something crossed his hard features. Regret? She couldn’t be sure.
“Of course not. I’m not a kidnapper. But there are dangers out there, Daniella. Frightening things that would love the chance at a vulnerable weretiger.”
“Like what?”
“Vampires, for one. We’re rare, and quite valued as pets. And worse things.”
Her laugh was hysterical, but she was beyond caring. “Vampires. Of course. Why wouldn’t there be vampires, too?”
He didn’t reply, and she blinked back the tears threatening to blind her. Time was of the essence; even as her anger faded slightly, the lust inside of her surged. Soon, she wouldn’t be able to think clearly.
“Fine,” she said, looking away from him. She swiped at a single tear that had escaped to run down her cheek. “I thought that we had something here. Or, I did, before you quit talking to me and started treating me like some sort of pariah.”
“Daniella—”
“No.” He didn’t get to talk. Didn’t deserve the chance to placate her with his excuses—his bullshit traditions and medieval people. “If you don’t care enough to claim me for yourself, then I guess your best friend will have to do. Hopefully, he’s more of a man than you are. Or is that more of a tiger than you?” Hysteria lurked inside, barely under her control.
She looked up to see a mixture of shock and rage and lust crossing his features. His hands shook at his sides, and he looked like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hit her or fuck her.
“You don’t know how hard this is. I do care about you. It makes this a million times more difficult. But my duty—”
“Is more important than me. What I want. More important, even, than what you want. I get it.” She shook her head, pain building in her chest that had nothing to do with her so-called heat. “Stupid thing is, I wanted you before this heat thing started. And I was dumb enough to hope that you wanted me, too.”
A low growl cut through the air. Before she even registered he’d moved, he was on her. His lips met hers, ferocious and demanding. He didn’t ask—he took.
The heat surged in her, immediately reacting to his onslaught. No matter how angry she was with him, her body still wanted his. And deep down, she cared about Owen. Sex with someone she cared about, someone she wanted even without this stupid heat, was infinitely more appealing to her than sex with a total stranger, especially in this insane situation.
He pulled her against him, and for once his body felt as hot as her own. Skin crawling with need, she wrapped herself around him, molding her body to his, returning his kiss eagerly.
Then she was on the bed, his large body covering hers, his hands cradling her face.
“Do you have any idea how much I’ve wanted you?” he said, his voice gruff. “All those nights of watching old movies. The days of watching you, making sure you were safe.”
“No,” she said, honestly. There had been times when she thought she’d felt the weight of his gaze, only to glance at him and find he wasn’t even looking at her. “The women I saw you bring home…you were good at hiding it. ”
“I had to be. And those women were nothing to me, but I needed…otherwise, I might have come to you, and I couldn’t risk that. But I didn’t fuck them. I couldn’t.”
The question was on the tip of her tongue. What exactly had he done with those women? Lust shifted in her chest, colored by a sudden spike of jealousy. Her rational mind knew she shouldn’t be jealous—they hadn’t been a couple, or even dating. And she’d been the epitome of off limits to him.
But she didn’t care. She was jealous anyway.
His hand slid up to cup her breast and lust rushed back. She hadn’t even noticed her robe had opened at some point while they kissed. A shudder ran through her as he slid a rough thumb over her nipple. “There wasn’t a single night you were here that I didn’t have to struggle against a hard-on.”
“You really wanted me that much?” she whispered, trying to maintain the thread of their conversation while her mind fragmented, seeking only the sensations his body could bring.
A low chuckle escaped him. “If you knew how many times I’ve thought of you. How many times I’ve had to jack off just to keep myself from breaking your door down and taking you.”
An image flashed in her mind. Owen in the shower, stroking the long, hard cock she could feel against her thigh while thinking of her. Coming with her name on his lips.
Damn.
Her sex clenched at the thought, and she kissed him so he’d stop looking at her. So he wouldn’t see how crazed the idea made her. But he pulled back, grinning.
“You like that, don’t you?” Owen asked, not at all fooled. “The idea of me thinking of you. You want to know what I imagined? Your lips, stretched around my cock. Your pussy, hot and wet and waiting for me. Licking your pussy while you beg me to take you. I’ve got a million fantasies surrounding you, Daniella. Taking you every way possible.” His lips brushed her ear, sending a tingle down her neck. “I intend to explore every one of those fantasies. And more.”
The heat pulsed through her, mixing with her own desire, and she writhed against his hard, immoveable frame as his tongue plunged into her mouth.
He kissed and licked his way down the curve of her neck, and she slid her hands down his muscled back. Everywhere he touched, it felt like electricity flowed from him into her. Sparking and shooting pulses straight to her core.
“Need you, Owen.” She gritted her teeth against the sensation. She felt empty. Swollen. Like she might burst if he wasn’t inside of her right this instant.
But Owen wouldn’t be hurried. He pulled her nipple into his mouth and sucked hard.
As the pain mixed with pleasure almost pushed her over the edge, she cried out and gripped his hair He growled and licked her other nipple. It was almost too much, everywhere but where she needed him most. She writhed beneath him, trying to ease the unbearable pressure building in her core. But he refused to touch her between her legs; instead, he took his time with her, as if they had all the time in the world.
His rough hands and soft mouth slid down the curvature of her neck, over her breasts, and across her abdomen. He kissed her mouth softly, tasting her, before returning to his barrage on the rest of her body.
Tears pricked her eyes, the need building to such a degree that her mind wasn’t sure if it was pleasure or pain.
“Owen,” she managed, her voice carrying all the desperation she felt.
“What do you need, kitten?”
Their gazes locked. He wasn’t as unaffected as his onslaught had suggested. His irises appeared almost inhuman, and his expression was animalistic, despite his very human appearance.
“Need you. Please.”
His hand went between them and her hips surged up, trying to meet it. But he was prepared for her response, and he pulled his hand back.
“None of that,” he said, and
the authority in his voice stilled her.
“Good,” he murmured, never moving his gaze from hers. Very softly, his hand slid against her, grazing her clit softly. She moaned, almost beyond thought. And when the thick digit slid inside her, she bucked against him.
“What do you want, beautiful?”
She writhed and moaned, unable to form words.
His hand moved from where he’d teased her to grab her hair and tug. The small bit of pain sent a shot of need straight to her sex, but also brought her a bit of focus.
“Say it,” he said.
What did he want her to say? She struggled to think.
“Tell me you want me to fuck you.”
Part of her rebelled against the command in his tone, but her body shivered in need, and the authority in his voice only made the need worse.
“Please,” she managed.
“Please what?” His voice offered none of the softness his gentle assault had just shown her body.
“Fuck me.”
He growled, and the next thing she knew, he’d flipped her around, onto her hands and knees. Her robe was gone. She looked over her shoulder, and saw him shimmy out of his boxer briefs. The material was wet—from her excitement or his, she wasn’t sure. His cock bobbed between his legs, hard and thick and long enough to make her knees shake.
He closed the short distance between them, his face a mask of concentration and lust. He slid a hand down her back and then gripped her hip, holding her still. She could feel him, sliding the tip of his hard dick over her entrance, and a low cry escaped her. She arched her back, trying to take him.
She let out a scream from the sudden fullness, the almost perfect rush of satisfaction that rolled over her. The orgasm hit, pounding through her from where they were joined to touch every part of her body. Distantly, she could feel him start to move.
* * *
Somewhere around the time she’d admitted wanting him before the heat hit, he’d made a decision. His honor was important, as was his promise to his best friend. His clan. But Daniella was more important. What she wanted mattered more than anything else.
And she wanted him.
With her pussy holding him tight, it was all he could do to stay still. To give her body a chance to get used to his hardness filling her. He wanted to kick himself for not going slower, for not easing himself into her trembling body. But her heat and the simple fact that he’d dreamed about this moment for months didn’t allow for slowness.
He started to move as soon as her body quit shaking from the orgasm. God, she was beautiful. Body touched with sweat and smelling of sex and floral shampoo and woman.
His woman.
Slowly, he rolled his hips against her, moving as carefully as he could manage. He’d already pushed himself into her like a rutting bull; he needed to slow back down, make sure it was as good for her as it was for him—better. He couldn’t live with himself if he hurt her.
She moaned, long and low when he moved, and he stopped.
“Are you all right?” He didn’t even recognize his own voice, taut with the strain of holding himself back.
She turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder, swollen lips turned up in a small grin. “Harder.”
He snarled. “I’m trying not to hurt you.”
“Did I ever tell you I like it rough?” she asked, voice breathy. Words hanging in the air, she pushed back, impaling herself on him fully. His balls brushed her clit, and she moaned again.
“Damn,” he ground out.
He couldn’t resist her demands. Her sexiness. Her ass trying to grind against him. God, she was so wet and hot and tight.
Gripping her hips hard, he started to fuck her.
Despite her words, he moved slowly at first, building a delicious rhythm that was both the greatest pleasure and the worst torture he’d ever inflicted upon himself. He watched his cock slide in and out of her wetness, her back arched to take him as deeply as she could, and the sight was almost too much for him to take.
When her cries grew breathier and louder, and the buildup inside him became almost painful, he moved faster. Thrusting in and out of her, as he’d imagined doing since the day he’d met her. One hand gripping her hips, he slipped the other around to pinch her clit.
With a low cry, she came again. Her pussy clenched around him and her body shuddered with release. Control already slipping, he let go.
Inside his mouth, his canines grew long, brushing his bottom lip as he gritted his teeth. Had to claim her. Make her his.
He lashed out, sinking his teeth into her neck as he held her hips with both hands in a hard grip. Awareness of anything but her disappeared, and he pumped into her, fucking her as hard as he could, any reason or concern utterly lost to him. Only the need to come inside her—his mate—mattered. Only the sensation of filling her body mattered. Only solidifying their connection mattered.
Poison pumped through his teeth and into her neck. In his arms, her body went stiff, then soft, as the paralytic in his teeth penetrated her system, rendering her immobile. Defenseless against his onslaught.
He thrust inside her as deep as he could, and the orgasm ripped through him, and beneath him, he felt her pussy convulse around him again. His dick pulsed and jerked as her body milked him; he yanked his teeth from her body and groaned out her name. Pleasure overwhelmed him, the orgasm mixing with the feline satisfaction of knowing that she was claimed.
Mine.
Colors flashed across his vision, and after a few moments, he slowly pulled himself out of her. She let out a small noise at the movement.
Sudden realization hit him. He’d bitten her.
Shit.
But the effects were already fading. He lay down next to her on the bed and pulled her into his arms, and she half-heartedly batted at him.
“What the hell was that?” she asked, voice small and distant. Propping herself up on an elbow she studied him. Her hand moved to rest on his bite mark, and she flinched when her fingers brushed against the small wounds.
“I’m sorry,” he said, gruffly. “I should have warned you. But I wasn’t planning on biting you—not yet. But in the moment, I couldn’t control it.” He gave her a small smile. “You bring out the beast in me.”
“I couldn’t move, but I could still feel you, moving inside me.” Her brows scrunched together adorably. “It was…different.”
“Bad?”
“I—I don’t know.” She sighed. “Okay, I’ll admit it was pretty good in the moment. But I’m not sure how I feel about it. I take it that was more weretiger BS?”
His smile widened at her words. Weretiger BS. Oh, how that would make Erick’s blood boil. “It’s something we do—feel the need to do—when we mate. Especially when a woman is in heat. Some sort of biological imperative. There is a paralyzing toxin that comes out when we bite. Keeps the female from getting away I guess.”
A very unfeminine snort. “How romantic.”
“Handy in a fight, though.”
Boneless, she released a sigh, and rested her head on his shoulder. “Well, whatever. Add this to the list of stuff I’m going to need more info on sooner rather than later.” A few short seconds later, a soft snore came from her.
With the heat temporarily sated, she would sleep now, probably for several hours. And when she woke up, he would be there. Ready to take care of her however he could. However she needed.
Complete and utter satisfaction hit him. It didn’t matter what they’d have to deal with going forward, because they’d face it together.
Even if the challenge was his best friend, his prime, and up until the moment he’d laid eyes on Daniella, the most important person in the world to him.
Chapter Four
Erick watched the road closely, his two best men silent in the cab with him, and squeezed the wheel. Driving wasn’t something he enjoyed; it was unnatural. The truck was too slow. But his feet would have been slower.
He had driven as quickly as the truck would
take him through the mountains his people ruled—despite the fact that the humans didn’t even know of their existence. But when he’d emerged onto well-used roads that were policed by officers who knew nothing of the clan, he had to slow down to near the speed limit. Dealing with humans would slow him down more than the speed limit.
“Have you seen her?” Glenn asked from the passenger seat.
Erick didn’t glance at him, the man who had acted as his second until Owen could return from his watch over Daniella.
“Yes.”
Glenn didn’t ask a follow-up question, and Erick didn’t invite one. Talking about the woman he was going to mate wasn’t going to happen.
The first—and only—time he’d seen her was still fresh in his mind. No closer than twenty feet, and still his reaction had been visceral.
Luscious, her form was exactly what he preferred in women. Curvy, yet sleek, ripe for fucking. Ripe for bearing his cubs.
Owen had cursed him for leaving him behind to watch her, to wait until she couldn’t resist him, but Erick couldn’t let his friend’s opinions bother him. To approach her any other way would require time, and wooing. Time was in short supply because he couldn’t be away from the clan long. And Erick knew nothing of wooing women for anything more than a quick fuck.
No. This way was simpler. It had required patience, but Erick had always been patient when stalking his prey. The woman wasn’t prey, but the same principles applied.
Owen had tried to convince him this way wouldn’t get him anything lasting, but that wasn’t his concern. His parents certainly hadn’t been in any kind of relationship—lasting or otherwise. As far as Erick had been able to tell, they could barely stand one another. They’d done their duty. Bred him and his younger brother. Created two new royals in a time when it was rare to see more than one born in the same clan in a single generation.
Not that it mattered that there were two of them. Nicolas had left the clan when he was little more than a teenager. Only Erick was left to carry the duty of keeping his people together. Keeping them strong.
Keeping them alive.
