Tamed by a Tiger
Page 6
She was beautiful, forbidden fruit.
And he wanted a taste.
It was the only reason he wanted her more than he wanted the females around him, but that feeling would pass if he started the ball rolling, flirting with one of them. He would get over it. He would.
He pushed himself up and straightened out his appearance, neatening his red hair and undoing one more button on his black shirt to show a little more muscle.
One of the females at the bar glanced his way and flashed a flirty smile in his direction.
It was working already.
He smiled right back at her and looked her up and down, a slow leisurely glide over her body. Her tight black dress emphasised wicked curves and breasts that would more than fill his hands, and her pouty cherry red lips promised to feel great around his cock.
So why the hell didn’t he feel anything as he looked at her?
Why the hell was he thinking about Maya?
Maya in that dress, looking like a present ready for him to unwrap.
Maya’s lips painted red and lush, ready to wrap around his aching shaft.
Maya’s amber eyes flashing at him in that way that said he was going down, that she was going to make him submit to her.
Fuck.
He glanced at the clock on the wall to his left above the optics, and growled when he saw it was already gone midnight.
Maya was leaving today.
August shoved away from the bar and froze.
What the hell was he doing?
He sucked down a hard breath.
Growled low when he caught the scent of cinnamon and snow.
He was hunting Maya.
No fucking way he was letting her go.
He rounded the end of the bar. The female who had been flirting with him stepped into his path, her smile bright. He walked straight past her, tracking Maya’s scent. She was here, in the club. Another growl curled up his throat. If a male was so much as looking at her, he was going to rip them to shreds.
He prowled through the heavy crowd, need twisting tighter inside his chest, making it hard to breathe as he searched for her.
He needed her.
He needed to see her again.
Would go mad if he didn’t.
His fingers flexed and clenched at his sides as he stalked her, unaware of what his body was doing, aware of only a crushing need to find her.
A group of males pushed across his path, scattering the people ahead of him.
Revealing her.
Gods. His breath left him in a rush.
She stood at the edge of the dance floor with her profile to him, a creamy-gold dress hugging her breasts and flowing from beneath them to conceal her curves and cover her thighs, her sleek long black hair a contrast against it.
A fucking angel.
She glowed in the bright lights, seemed to shine as he stared at her, absorbing her beauty as she watched the dancers, a look of fascination on her face.
He had never been much of a dancer, but some stupid part of him wanted to get onto the dance floor and bust some moves so she would look at him like that.
As if he lit up her world.
She didn’t notice as he slowly approached her, his heart beating harder with each step closer he came to her, rushing so fiercely he genuinely feared he might pass out. What was it about this bewitching female that had him ready to fall at her feet?
Ready to beg her to accept him as her male?
He shook that ridiculous need away. It was just lust. She was beautiful forbidden fruit.
“What are you doing here?” he hollered over the loud beat of the music.
She tensed and whipped around to face him, her amber eyes wide and lips parting with the shock he felt ripple through her. Those entrancing eyes leaped around the room, swiftly taking in her surroundings. Looking for someone?
It dawned on him.
Her brothers.
She wasn’t meant to be in the club.
“Don’t… don’t tell them.” She stepped towards him, which did all kinds of crazy shit to his brain, and his body. Holy fuck. He inched his left leg forwards, so she wouldn’t see just how badly she had affected him with something as innocent as her moving closer to him and speaking to him. “I just needed this.”
He looked around at the club, trying to act nonchalant when she had him fired up to the point of pain already and she hadn’t even done anything. “What is this? It’s just a nightclub.”
She moved another step closer. He bit back a growl and curled his hands into fists at his sides, and then jammed them into the pockets of his black jeans, stopping himself from reaching out and grabbing her as he wanted to. Gods, he wanted her in his arms. He wanted to feel her pressed close to him.
“I’ve never been to one before.”
Her words were so quiet he almost didn’t catch them above the music.
August wanted to laugh at that. Only she was deadly serious.
“Don’t get out much?” He smiled at her, expecting her to berate him or call him an idiot or something.
She shook her head.
His smile faded.
Was she like some of the females at his pride and had chosen to spend her entire life in her pride’s village, far away from the frantic mortal world?
The look of longing in her amber eyes as they roamed back to the dancers told him that it wasn’t the case and a slow burn started in his blood.
She hadn’t chosen to stay away from the world—she had been locked away from it, held in the village against her will.
He couldn’t hold back the growl that rumbled through his chest at the thought someone had done such a thing to her, shutting her in a cage, stealing her freedom from her.
“Your family are arseholes,” he barked, his blood on fire now as he thought about her brothers, a need to find them and beat the shit out of them blazing through him.
They would pay for what they had done to her.
She glared at him.
“I’m not going to apologise.” He stepped towards her, slowly closing the distance between them. “Not for what I just said.”
He took another step.
“Not for being angry that some son of a bitch kept you locked away.”
Another step.
“Not for what I did in the gym.”
He closed the gap between them and stared down into her beguiling eyes as she gazed up into his, a trickle of fear running through her emotions. His heart beat harder, his own fear rising as he struggled to hold her gaze and narrow the world down to only her, until she was the only one in it with him.
The only one who mattered to him.
“And I’m not going to apologise for this either.”
She gasped as he wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her up, and he swallowed it in a kiss as he claimed her lips.
August banded one arm around her back and clutched her bottom with his free hand, holding her against him as he kissed her, sweeping his lips across hers and coaxing her into moving. She remained frozen against him, and that fear began to grow stronger, whispered that he had been mistaken and she really had just wanted to fight him.
And then she moved.
Her lips twitched against his, her movements restrained at first, but she grew bolder, until she was a wild little thing in his arms, her mouth fierce on his as she kissed him hard. He groaned when she thrust her tongue between his lips, angled his head and met her, driving her back into submission as he stroked his tongue along hers, teasing her with it. She moaned, tensed the moment she loosed it, and he felt her shock.
It lasted all of a second before she was lost again, kissing him deeper, fighting him for dominance that he refused to give her. Her kiss was rough, a little clumsy at times, but he didn’t care, because by the gods, she tasted divine and felt so right in his arms.
He held her closer, sung sweet praises to his ancestors when she moved in his arms and her hands came down on his shoulders. She fisted his shirt, held it
so tightly he feared it might rip apart, but he still didn’t care, wouldn’t give a fuck if she tore it right off his back right there, as long as she kept kissing him.
Her grip loosened and he moaned as she brushed her hands up his shoulders, teased his nape with her light fingers, and then pushed them through his hair. Damn. He growled, lifted the hand that held her waist to the back of her head and buried his fingers in her fall of black hair, and clutched it as he kissed her harder, deeper still.
His heart thundered against his chest, matching the beat of her own as it drummed against him.
Sweet fucking gods.
He had never felt so alive, so overloaded with feelings. It felt as if he was going to drown in them, as if they were going to keep building inside him until he couldn’t contain them, until they burst and shattered him.
He wouldn’t care, not if Maya kept kissing him.
Not if she was his.
Eyes landed on him.
August broke away from her lips and growled at the male, warning him not to look at his female, warning him away.
The male moved on, heading into the throng of people on the dance floor to his right.
He turned back to Maya, his gaze falling straight on her kiss-swollen lips.
He leaned in to capture them again.
Maya pushed out of his arms and staggered back a few steps, breathing hard, her amber eyes wild as she looked at him and lifted a trembling hand to those lips he wanted to claim.
“I… I can’t do this.”
Those lips that had just given him so much pleasure pierced him with the ultimate pain.
August growled at her.
She broke past him, her head bent, and he turned in time to see her disappear into the crowd, frantically pushing people aside as she ran from him.
Like hell he was letting her get away.
CHAPTER 8
Maya kept her head down as she fought the crowd, desperate to put some distance between her and August. Kissing him had been a mistake. She should have stopped him, shouldn’t have let him do that to her, but she had foolishly thought herself strong enough to handle it.
She wasn’t.
Kissing August had only made her realise what she was sacrificing for the sake of her pride, and the safety of her brothers.
It was killing her.
She sniffed back the tears, refusing to let them fall, and pushed onwards, determined to escape before she did something she would truly regret. The people in her path slowed her progress, most of them refusing to move, forcing her to find another route as she tiptoed and looked for the door that would lead into the backroom.
It wouldn’t be enough to escape August.
She knew that, but she still kept pushing towards it, an ache building in her chest as she ran away from him.
Ran away from the one male she wanted to run towards.
“Damn it,” she muttered and pushed a male aside.
He growled at her, but she paid him no heed, kept on pushing and shoving, desperate to escape.
Even when she knew she couldn’t really escape the one thing she wanted to.
The need to honour her parents and protect the pride would continue to bind her hands, would have her returning to the path that would take her to Siberia, no matter how fiercely she fought it.
It broke her heart.
She wished she had the courage to refuse to go to the Altay pride, but the risk was too great, and she would never be able to live with herself if her freedom cost Byron his life, or put the pride in danger.
She shrieked as someone grabbed her from behind.
A hand came down over her mouth, muffling it.
August.
His masculine earthy scent filled her senses, had her purring inside and that need to fight stirring again, the need to stake a claim on him as her territory.
Mine.
No. He couldn’t be hers. He could never be hers.
Not even if she turned her back on her promise and risked it all.
He had made that clear when he had been talking to his cousin.
He had said he didn’t want a mate.
She tried to break free of him as he took hold of her wrist, his grip like iron, squeezing her bones and sending a dull ache up her arm. He refused to release her and dragged her through the crowd, his focus fixed firmly ahead of him. She looked there, afraid he was taking her to the backroom.
A shadowy set of stairs loomed ahead of her, close to the back wall of the club, leading upwards.
She glanced over her shoulder at the door near the bar.
He was taking her away from it.
She looked up the stairs as they reached them, at the darkness, the unknown.
Where was he taking her?
She dug at his fingers, trying to get hers beneath them so she could loosen his grip. He growled again and held her tighter as he pulled her up the stairs, into the gloom. Her pulse picked up as she stumbled on the metal steps, his heavy footsteps ringing around her, a determined clip to them as he tugged her along behind him.
Music thumped around her, quieter in the stairwell, but loud as they reached a balcony above the dance floor.
August pulled her left, along the wide balcony, past empty booths on her left, and one that had a thick curtain drawn across it.
Her pulse went wild.
No. She couldn’t be alone with him. She couldn’t bear it.
He reached the final booth and pulled her into it.
The moment the heavy velvet curtain was closed behind him, he twirled her so her back was against the black wall. His mouth came down on hers, his kiss like fire as it seared her, burning away her fragile restraint.
He stepped into her, pinning her to the wall, his hands claiming her hips and holding her there.
She had to stop this madness.
Maya kissed him back, couldn’t stop herself as he went to war on her defences, breaking them all down and leaving her weak against him, and against herself. She wanted this, needed him with a ferocity that frightened her.
He mastered her mouth, bending her to his will, stoking that side of her he had awoken the moment she had set eyes on him. She growled and seized control of the kiss, clutching his head in her palms and holding him at her mercy. He groaned, the sound like music to her ears.
It ripped control from her grasp.
He was hers.
Hers.
She had failed to make him submit to her once. She wouldn’t fail again.
She gripped his hair and kissed him harder, earning a husky moan from him that sent a shiver over her skin and made it feel hot and too tight. He palmed her backside, and she trembled and moaned, the wanton sound of it shocking her, but she was too far gone to care. His strong hands kneading her flesh sent another wave of heat through her, one so fierce she couldn’t stop herself from rolling her hips against his.
A rigid length of steel met her flesh.
Gods.
Her breath left her in a rush.
All that heat, that fire, pooled low in her belly and she found herself rubbing against him, a need to feel him controlling her.
He groaned and lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist and gasped as he pressed into her, pinning her back against the wall, making her feel every hard inch of him.
She trembled at the feel of it, at the urge that burst to life inside her, a powerful need to touch him, to lay her hands on his flesh and feel what she did to him.
It overwhelmed her.
Panicked her.
She stilled in his arms, her lips frozen against his.
What was she doing?
August kissed down her throat, slowly sweeping his lips over her flesh, searing her and trying to wrench control from her again.
This was madness.
Yes.
“Madness,” she whispered.
August lifted his head and stared into her eyes, confusion shining in his silvery ones.
“You’re handsome,” she said, v
oice distant in her ears, her words hollow. “I want you… need this moment of madness before I go on with my life.”
He frowned at her.
She faltered. It was stupid, but she needed to keep going, needed to say something to justify what she was doing and make herself believe it.
“I’m not your mate.” She held his gaze, fielding another confused look. “We both know snow leopards can’t find their fated one outside their species, so this is just desire… we just want each other… that’s all this is.”
Was she trying to convince herself, or him?
She wasn’t sure what she was doing anymore. Fear was at the helm, driving her to say something, anything, that might make it possible for her to do as she wanted for once, and not end up hurt by it.
His silver eyes dropped to her mouth.
He swooped on it and kissed her harder than before, until there wasn’t a part of her that didn’t sing with the pleasure that rolled through her.
She could do this.
One night of madness.
One moment of doing what she wanted.
Of being with her fated one.
She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him, tried to keep up with him as it grew more heated, fiercer and faster, until all those worries that had been building inside of her went rushing out of her, forgotten in the heat of the moment.
She groaned and tipped her head back when he broke away from her mouth and kissed down her neck, his breath hot on her skin.
“Gods, I need you,” he murmured against her breasts, sweeping kisses along the neckline of her dress above them.
She knew. She could feel it in him and could sense the staggering depth of that need had startled him. Confused him. It built inside her too, drove her to keep going, until they were both sated at last.
He dropped to his knees before her and looked up at her, a corona of gold around the dark abysses of his pupils. A tremor wracked her, that need cranking tighter, and she swallowed hard.
Was she really going to do this?
His eyes eased down her body, growing hooded as they fell lower.
She really was.
With shaking fingers, she clutched the skirt of her dress and inched it upwards.
Her reward was a feral growl and his hands on her thighs, driving her mad with a light caress as he skimmed them upwards, chasing the hem of her dress and then dipping beneath it. The trembling grew worse, so fierce she feared he would notice it. He moaned as he reached her backside and palmed it again, and then kept pushing upwards, lifting her dress.