Tiger's Den

by Leslie Chase

  "Um. Do you know where he'll be in this maze of yours, Penelope?"

  She laughed, nodding. "Of course. Big brother is sometimes a creature of habit, darling, and I know exactly where he goes when he's upset. Come on, I'll show you!"

  4

  The Swimming Pool

  The swimming pool was gorgeous. It took up the entirety of a converted barn connected to the house, and was bigger than some public pools Lenore had seen. The windows looked out on the sea and a grouping of tables and chairs was set up to enjoy the view from the warm room. Large plants placed around the walls made the place seem bigger, and wilder, than it really was.

  But all of that was background, barely registering to Lenore. Her attention was entirely captured by the tiger swimming in the pool.

  He was gorgeous and terrifying, and Lenore froze at the sight of him. Part of her knew that it must be Maxwell, but the rest of her mind objected that it couldn't be. It was a tiger. A huge, beautiful predator, not the man she'd come looking for. That part of her mind wanted to run and hide, or freeze in terror.

  The tiger turned at the far end of the pool and looked at her. Lenore felt her muscles freeze. Those amber eyes held her in place, and she knew that escape was impossible; if the big cat wanted her, he'd caught her.

  But he didn't move closer, just paddled in place in the water watching her. Slowly, she caught her breath, her heart pounding, ready to burst out of her chest. She stepped fully into the room.

  "Maxwell?" She hated that her voice sounded so timid, so unsure. It had to be him. It was just difficult to accept that the tiger could be her… whatever Maxwell was to her. It was hard to say.

  "We, we need to talk," she said, trying again. The tiger rumbled a deep purring growl, a noise which made her heart jump with a jolt of fear, but he didn't seem to be threatening her. Just watching, listening, perhaps considering.

  Then he pushed off the wall of the pool, powerful limbs propelling him faster than she could have imagined towards her end of the pool. It took her a heart-stopping moment to realize he wasn't swimming straight for her, but to one side - and before she could decide whether to try and escape, his huge front paws were reaching over the side of the pool just a few yards away.

  With a powerful heave, the soaking wet tiger pulled itself up and onto the poolside, sending a wave of water washing over the edge and over her feet. And then, an instant later, it was Maxwell standing there naked, reaching for a towel hanging on a chair.

  For all that she was still upset with him, she couldn't help staring at his body. Each time she'd seen it, he'd taken her breath away with his strong, perfectly muscled form, and this was no exception. Having seen him before didn't help quell her fascination - it was as though she couldn't believe how good he looked, and it was a sight to behold again each and every time.

  He seemed utterly unconcerned with her scrutiny as he picked up the towel and began to dry himself. Lenore had to struggle with an urge to take the towel from him, but that wouldn't lead to them talking and she was determined to have the conversation they so badly needed.

  Turning around so she didn't have to look at him, at his so-distracting body, she took a deep breath and tried to think of where to start. It had seemed simple on the way to the pool, but the words she'd rehearsed in her head were forgotten now, and she couldn't think.

  "I'm sorry." His voice startled her. Whatever she'd imagined happening, it hadn't been that.

  "I'm sorry I shouted at you, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you more about what was going on," he continued. "You deserve better than that, and I don't have any excuse for getting angry with you like I did."

  His voice was as powerful and firm as ever, but tinged with a deep regret. He still seemed angry, but none of that was directed at her. It took the wind out of the sails of her own anger.

  "I know you were trying to look after me," she said carefully. "But I need to know what's happening to me, okay?"

  "Penny told me as much," he admitted. "But I thought I knew better. And I didn't want to scare or upset you, so I kept things from you."

  She could feel him behind her, stepping close. Close enough to touch. Close enough that she thought she could feel the heat of his body, and just the thought of his touch made her heart speed up.

  "You would have scared me," she said, looking down. "You would have scared me a lot, and I might have freaked out, but I still deserved to know. And I didn't deserve to be shouted at for not telling you something."

  "You're right, of course. I can and will protect you from a lot of things, but not by keeping things from you. That won't work and it won't help either of us. And just because I'm frightened doesn't give me the right to take it out on you."

  He faltered on those words, and Lenore could hear how much it cost him to admit he was afraid. Still, she refused to turn to look at him - she knew that if she did, she wouldn't be able to think of anything apart from his touch.

  "Alright," she said. "But what do we do now? How do we move on from that? I have a life, a job, and I've been missing for days now."

  His sigh was a low, sad rumble. "I don't know. I thought I could keep you safe no matter what, and I will do my best - but if it's you they were following, not me, then that makes things harder. If you leave here, then whoever's got the sword will be able to find you. I don't want to risk anything happening to you!"

  "But if I stay, then I'm stuck here forever!"

  "I wouldn't let that happen," he promised, and she felt him move closer, his hand nearly touching her hip. He hesitated there, hand hovering. "We'll work out who it is and stop this. And then, well, if you want to go, that's your choice."

  "That still sounds like I'm a prisoner here until then."

  Another rumbling sigh, so close that she felt his breath on her skin.

  "If you want to leave, then I understand. That's my fault for not making you feel safe here, and for not paying attention to the disruption to your life. And for scaring you, damn me for a fool,” he faltered.

  "So here is what I'll do. It's too late for you to travel safely tonight anyway, so stay until morning at least. Think about it overnight. That will give me time to make some arrangements for your safety. Then if you must leave, you can go and I'll have some security people watch over you while Penny and I solve the problem. It won't be as safe as you'd be here, but it will probably be enough, and if there's any trouble, I will be there in a flash.”

  Then, his voice softened, "I hope you'll choose to stay instead, but I know I've made that hard for you."

  She couldn't help but smile at his tone. So much authority, now that he was actually trying to solve her problem rather than ignoring it. She had to admit, he made her feel safe.

  "Thank you," she said, turning to face him. He was so very close, still wet from his swim, and towering over her. His expression melted from concern into delight as she embraced him and held him close. "Thank you for caring enough to listen."

  "Thank you for giving me the chance," he said, and she could feel the words vibrate in his broad chest. "I'm glad you came to find me and didn't let me sulk."

  Lenore laughed at that, just a little. "Thank Penny for that. Your sister has a way with words."

  "That she does." He squeezed her tight, and then chuckled in turn. "Oh, dear. I'm afraid I'm getting your dress all wet."

  "Well, there's a simple solution to that, isn't there?" Lenore flushed a little as she looked up at him, grinning. He smiled back, nodded, and pulled her dress off over her head in one smooth motion.

  Lenore gasped as he casually threw it aside, and she took a step back. She felt her cheeks heating as he watched her move, his eyes back to their predatory, hungry, eager look. She glanced down, and saw him hardening. The sight was enough to make her heart speed up.

  "Maxwell!" She protested, shocked even though she had suggested it. "We can't… not here!"

  "Why not?" he sounded amused, taking a long graceful step forwards as she stepped back, keeping the distance between
them constant. "Lenore, I want you. Now."

  "But - but what if someone sees us?"

  "Who will see us here?" he chuckled, stepping closer, and she backed away again. His eyes never stopped moving, never stopped admiring her, and she realized that this time she wasn't trying to hide from his gaze. She was enjoying it, loving the sight of a man - this man, this beautiful god of a man - looking at her with need.

  "The staff," she protested. "The staff, your sister, anyone could come in and find us!"

  "They won't." He spoke with utter confidence, undoubtable. "No one will come in here tonight. But I don't want you to be uncomfortable, so…"

  He turned aside taking a couple of quick steps to the doors which led into the rest of the house. With a click, he locked them, sealing the rest of the world out, and turned back to her with an impish grin.

  "There, Lenore. Now you don't have to worry about anyone interrupting our privacy."

  The smile made her shiver with delight and need. She nodded, not trusting her words, her earlier fears and anger melted away completely by their mutual need for each other. She took a step towards him, ready for his embrace.

  He held up a hand, stopping her. "Not yet, my dear. I want to savor you. Take off your underwear, let me see you properly again."

  She swallowed, a little surge of uncertainty flaring up again and dying. Her blush deepening again, she reached back to unclasp her bra, baring her breasts to him. It was almost unbelievable - a couple of days earlier, the idea that she'd be undressing in front of a man would have sounded ridiculous to her. Let alone a man like Maxwell! And yet here she found herself, sliding down her panties and letting him look at her naked body.

  His low, eager growl told her he liked what he saw, and his hardening manhood made it clear beyond doubt. Lenore turned, slowly, surprised at her own daring, giving him a chance to admire her as she swayed to a half-remembered song in her mind. This was unfamiliar territory to her, but she wasn't about to let that stop her, not when she could feel the heat of his gaze on her.

  Turning back to face him, she saw him step forward, eyes alight with a fiery need. Her body yearned for his touch. A deep aching emptiness that only he could fill. When she stepped forwards, he shook his head, hand raised.

  "Not yet. Not quite yet. I want to watch you move, Lenore. Show me how you walk."

  That was almost enough to make her protest. Almost, but not quite. She couldn't fight the need in those eyes, the desire in his voice, and the answering waves of need washing through her from her pussy. Lenore turned and took a step away from him, then another.

  She couldn't believe that she was doing it, but she tried to put on a show. A glance back over her shoulder, and she saw him admiring her, touching himself without a hint of self-consciousness as she put a wiggle in her hips, trying to look sexy for him.

  It was a strange and unfamiliar feeling, but he lent her the strength and confidence to sway and dance for him, turning back, letting him see her move to silent music. Any other night, with any other man, she'd have been sure that she looked ridiculous. Not here, and not with Maxwell. His intensity and confidence made it impossible for her to doubt his interest in her, his desire for her. There wasn't even a hint of mockery in his amber eyes as he watched her move, enjoying the sight of her.

  She'd never expected to see a man look at her like that.

  Maxwell's smile widened as she approached him, turning and wiggling her hips. He reached out for her, pulling her close, holding her tight against him and growling into her ear. "You are so damned sexy, woman. I can't believe how lucky I am."

  That almost made her laugh. He thought that he was the lucky one? But he seemed sincere about it, and his body didn't lie. He was hard as steel against her, his hands gripping her tight, his heart pounding against her as his lips met hers. Lenore felt his fingers dig into her ass as their tongues met, an electric spark of need flashing between them.

  I don't care if he thinks he's the lucky one. She groaned, throwing her arms around him, feeling hard muscles move under his smooth tanned skin. I know it's me. Any woman would be lucky to have a man like this!

  "Please, take me to bed?" Lenore broke the kiss, her voice low and eager. She heard her pulse pounding.

  He lifted her as though she weighed nothing at all, raising her so their eyes were level and broke the kiss. There was a wicked light in his eyes, and his voice made her shiver. "What's wrong with right here?"

  "The floor's too hard," Lenore started to protest weakly, not entirely convinced. If he wanted her on the cold tiles, she'd wouldn't say no! "We can't - HEY!"

  Maxwell interrupted her protest by lifting her higher and throwing her. In his strong arms, her weight didn't seem to matter at all - his casual throw carried her into the center of the pool with a splash into the warm water, and she came up spluttering and protesting to see him leaping after her in a shallow dive that knifed into the water. It was a gorgeous sight, his body a perfect study of an athlete, and he entered the water without the slightest splash.

  Before she could react, his hands closed on her legs, pulling her under. His mouth found hers in an eager underwater kiss, making her heart flutter. Another new experience, and one she'd happily repeat. The warm water washed around her as they lost themselves in their embrace, the two of them sinking as he held them under the surface, his hands stroking across her, his powerful legs kicking slowly and keeping them under.

  It seemed to go on forever, but eventually Lenore realized her lungs were starting to ache for air. She didn't need to say anything, Maxwell carried the pair of them upwards with a push off the bottom of the pool. They broke the surface, the cooler air making her gasp.

  "You - you asshole," she said, laughing and punching Maxwell playfully. He laughed, pulling her to him again, kissing her, his hand in her wet hair. She clung to him, her hands grabbing at him. She was shaking with laughter and delight as the water swirled around them.

  "That's fair," he admitted with a grin, looking her in the eye from an inch away. Below the water, his hand stroked down the outside of her thigh, then gently back up the inside. "But you're not complaining, are you?"

  "I guess not," she told him, shaking her head with a gasp. His fingers had reached her pussy, stroking over her lips, his touch feather-light. "No, no I'm not complaining!"

  He ducked his head under the surface of the water, his mouth closing on her nipple as he pushed a finger into her. Lenore threw back her head, looking at the roof high above the pool. His expert touch made her shiver with need. The emptiness inside her called for him, and one finger was only enough to whet her appetite for more.

  But Maxwell wasn't to be hurried. She clung to his shoulders as he kissed and sucked on her, moving from one nipple to the other, pushing a second finger into her and slowly pushing them in and out of her. Her hands squeezed tight, nails digging into his shoulders, and she found herself panting for breath quickly, her body shaking. At last, he pulled his head up again, breaking the surface, pulling in a deep breath and chuckling. "Eager, aren't you?"

  "Oh god, yes!" She grabbed his head and kissed him, hard. "Please?"

  He didn't answer in words, but the passion of his kiss was all she needed. Her body tingled all over, caressed by the water washing over them, his mouth and fingers electrifying her. Maxwell swam her backwards to the edge of the pool, the cool tiles against her shoulders making her gasp in surprise.

  "Hands on the side," he told her. Lenore obeyed without question; his tone brooked no disobedience, and whatever he had in mind, she knew that she'd enjoy it. She spread her arms along the sides of the pool, and he pulled back, letting her support herself on them. Looking her in the eye, he gave a wicked little smile and ducked under the water again.

  Lenore gasped, feeling his mouth on her breasts, but he didn't stop there. Kisses trailed down over her stomach as he moved lower, slowly and steadily. His fingers moved inside her in rhythm with his kisses, making her moan. She wanted to grab him, to feel him, but she n
eeded her hands on the side to keep her head above water, and that left her helplessly immobilized and putty in his hands.

  As his kisses moved lower, she decided she didn't mind that one bit.

  Maxwell's kisses sped up along with his fingers as he moved lower, and when his mouth reached her sex, he seemed as eager as she was, licking and sucking for all he was worth. Lenore cried out to the ceiling, hips rocking against him as his rough tongue lashed over her. It took him only moments to reduce her to gasping and writhing, clinging desperately to the edge of the pool with white knuckles.

  The orgasm built quickly, and overwhelmed her in a crashing wave of pleasure, her loud scream echoing in the converted barn. She arched against him, pressing herself to his eager, wonderful mouth, and she lost her grip on the tiles, sliding into the water.

  His arms caught her, lifting her before her head went under, and he broke the surface again, panting for air himself. Lenore moaned, letting him support her as the tremors subsided, her arms waving weakly through the water.

  "God, you come beautifully," he told her. "You do everything beautifully."

  His powerful hands lifted her again, positioning her on an underwater seat built into the pool's edge. She lay back against it, grateful for the support under her, her breasts rising out of the water as she breathed. Spreading her legs, he slipped between them, and she reached up for him, pulling him close. Under the water his cock pressed against her, his hardness against her pussy, and that sent another wave of arousal flooding her. It was almost too much for her to cope with - he was so close, but still intolerably not inside her.

  "Please," she managed to moan. Her voice was low, hoarse from her screams, almost desperate. "Don't make me wait, please, Maxwell."

  He didn't answer in words. Instead, he thrust deep into her with a hungry growl, making her cry out joyfully. The feeling of completeness, of fullness, washed away the emptiness she'd felt inside her. It was the most wonderful feeling she could imagine, and she couldn't imagine being without it. As long as he was in her, all was right and all was well.