Tiger's Hunt

by Leslie Chase

  The rational part of her brain tried to remind her that this was a terrible idea, that he was a stranger, and that they were in a stairwell at her work, where anyone could come past and catch them. But she didn’t care, this felt so right and so perfect, so natural.

  Maxwell sank to his knees in front of her, looking up with a hungry smile. She looked down, drinking in the beauty of his upturned face. His strong, determined features, his dark blond hair framing them perfectly. Those strange eyes, full of the fire of lust and need, mirroring her own desire. For a moment they were frozen, gazes locked, both panting with raw want. He reached out to push up her dress, pulling aside her panties forcefully. A wave of pleasure flooded through Lenore as Maxwell launched himself forward between her legs. His hands grabbed her ass, pulling her pussy to his enthusiastic tongue.

  Lenore shook like a leaf as he spread her wide, eagerly licking and kissing at her, his strong hands supporting her as he swiped his tongue over sensitive flesh. She shuddered, throwing back her head and bit down on a passionate cry, her body responding instantly, wildly, as his insistent tongue lapped at her with abandon. It felt almost rough against her clit, and she couldn’t hold back.

  “Oh God I’m going to -”

  She couldn’t even finish the sentence before she lost control, her orgasm a blinding explosion of pleasure. She thrashed, her legs buckling, his hands holding her up in an iron grip and his mouth driving her on again and again, until finally she collapsed limply against him.

  Maxwell held her, supporting her with casual strength she wouldn’t have believed even from a man his size. He smiled up at her, his lips slick with her juices, his eyes full of desire and his own passionate need. Lenore shuddered again as he licked his lips and purred.

  Whatever inhibitions she might have lingering about vanished with that, and she knocked his hands aside, sinking shakily to her knees before him. She fumbled at his pants, undoing them as he rose to his feet, freeing his cock, stroking it as it emerged. She gasped, staring with abandon - she’d felt how big he was, but seeing him for the first time, she realized he was magnificent.

  Eagerly, she leaned in, running her tongue up the length of his perfect shaft, teasing the head with a moan as his fingers slid into her hair. A low growling approving noise rumbled from his chest, and Lenore licked again, savoring the feel of his skin on her tongue, her body trembling at the musky manly smell of him.

  Her lips closed around him, and his manhood slid deep into her mouth. He was too big for her to take all of him into her, but she did her best, and he groaned in pleasure. Maxwell’s fingers tightened in her hair as Lenore pumped and squeezed him with one hand. Her free hand went to his balls, stroking them as she sucked and licked eagerly at every inch of him she could fit in her mouth.

  She ran her tongue over the tip of his cock, tasting a his precum. Groaning around his hard cock she sped up her pace, feeling his hands tighten on her. His muscles tensed as he tried to delay the inevitable, tried to hold himself back from the brink, and Lenore lifted her head to look up at him, meeting his eyes as she ran her tongue around the tip of his cock. His face a focused mask of will as he held himself on the brink of his orgasm.

  Come, she willed, sucking and stroking his shaft. Come for me, please!

  As though he’d heard her thoughts, he snarled, relaxing his iron will and thrusting, his eyes locked on hers. Hot fluid spurted into her throat, again and again, each spurt followed by another as she hungrily swallowed it down. She held on tight, keeping her mouth fastened to him until the last spurt was done.

  It took a moment for him to relax and untangle his fingers from her hair, and then he sank down to the floor beside her. Panting for air, they sat side by side on the steps, recovering. It took a few minutes for them to catch their breaths, and as she got hers back, the reality of the situation came back to Lenore. Blushing, she pulled down her dress, covering herself again.

  Maxwell on the other hand seemed unconcerned as he redressed himself. He offered her a hand and helped her to her feet. The air of casual confidence that surrounded him emboldened Lenore, but not enough to forget her embarrassment.

  “What if someone had seen us?” she blurted.

  “They wouldn’t,” he replied with a quiet and unquestionable certainty. “There’s no reason for anyone to be here apart from us, and even if someone had left the party and come this way, I’d have heard them in plenty of time.”

  Lenore looked at him dubiously. They had been quite distracted, after all. But there was no point in worrying now, she supposed - she had, after all, jumped at the chance. And, she had to admit to herself, she’d jump at it - at him - again in an instant.

  He smiled, a little smugly she thought, as though he’d seen that thought on her face, and she blushed brighter.

  What does he see in me, she asked herself? He could have asked any one of the women at the Gala back here. Just look at him, no one would say no. Why choose me?

  He didn’t give her time to answer that question, or to ask it out loud. Taking her arm, he started up the stairs and away from the party again. She followed his lead, leaning on him, her legs still unsteady under her.

  “Shouldn’t we be heading back?”

  He laughed. “Don’t tell me you’ve had enough of my company already, Ms. Kimble? I really am interested in a private tour of the exhibition, especially with you to show me around discretely.”

  Lenore felt her face heat again at his tone, the note of hunger in it making her tingle inside. Yes, spending another hour or so alone in a dark room with him did sound better than going back to the party, and her normal life.

  3

  Intruders

  Rearranging her clothes, Lenore led Maxwell a little hurriedly through the main hall of the museum, to the new Indian collection. Her footsteps echoed in the empty space, but he was silent as he prowled along beside her. She wondered how he managed it, though not having to wear heels was undoubtedly helpful.

  She found herself glancing back, making sure he was still there. It was ridiculous, of course: where else would he slip off to? But he was so damned quiet that she never quite trusted herself. Of course, it also gave her a chance to admire his graceful strength as he followed along. She wondered what on Earth he was doing here, with her.

  Stop it, Lenore, she told herself fiercely. Don’t over-think this! He’s probably this interested in any girl he sees, just be happy that you caught his eye this time!

  Still, whenever she looked back, she caught his eyes on her. He was unapologetic, watching her intently, and she found herself annoyed, amused, and embarrassed in equal measure. Sure, she knew that some men liked her curves, but she also knew most guys would have stayed with the beauties at the party if they were interested in meeting someone.

  Walking through the shadows of museum halls, she couldn’t help wondering about his motives in taking her back here. Was he using her as a way to see the art early, or using the art as an excuse to be alone with her? She couldn’t quite bring herself to believe that he was actually interested in her, though.

  “Here we are,” she said, using her pass key to unlock the door to the collection. A cross-legged stone Buddha smiled at them as they entered, and Maxwell bowed deeply to it. Lenore couldn’t decide if it was mocking or not, and frowned at his back.

  “In my experience it’s always a good idea to be respectful,” he said, smiling at her as he straightened up. “You never know when you’ll need a favor. I may not be a Buddhist, but I’ve no interest in being an interloper on his territory, either.”

  “Okay,” she replied dubiously. Maxwell took her arm and led her around the seated statue, and she found herself letting him take the lead. His grip was firm, but not forceful. Though she had no doubt he could if he wanted to, he wasn’t stopping her from pulling away. There was a lot of controlled power in his grip, a surprising amount even for such a big man. It made her shiver slightly. Or was that the air conditioning? The collection area was kept cool with onl
y a few of the lights on and no visitors apart from themselves.

  It struck her, just how alone they were as they passed an illustrated copy of the Kama Sutra. The ancient artifact displayed one of the more innocent pages - nothing anyone could possibly object to - but Lenore couldn’t help remembering the illustrations in the more erotic sections of the book. Heat flooded her face at the thought. Maxwell chuckled as though he could read her mind, but he didn’t stop to look at it, sparing her the embarrassment. Relief mixed with disappointment in her as they moved past the explicit book.

  “You know where you’re going,” she said, as he walked past another display, one of her favorites, a painting of Krishna. The god looked down almost disapprovingly, but Maxwell didn’t pause for this one.

  “I’m afraid so,” he said, and she felt his grip tighten a little further. “We do only have an hour at best before everyone else arrives, and there’s one thing that I particularly want to see, while there’s still time.”

  Oh, so it’s not me he’s interested in, she thought peevishly before her mind caught up with his words. She wasn’t surprised, not really, but she was disappointed. Their moment in the stairwell had been unlike anything she’d ever done, and the thought that it didn’t mean anything to him deflated her. She tried to distract herself with other thoughts.

  “What do you mean, still time?”

  “I’m not the only person interested in the blade,” he said absently. He stopped for a moment, frowning and looking around. “In fact, I’m not even sure I’m the only one interested in it tonight.”

  “Hold on!” She jerked her arm away from his grip. “Are you planning on stealing the Silver Sword?”

  The Silver Sword was the prize of the collection, the reason for the fundraiser, and the most beautiful thing in the museum - including the leggy blonds in attendance. Its name didn’t do it justice, but that’s what the press had dubbed it and there wasn’t any going back now. Not that it had a proper name anyway, at least none that anyone had been able to find.

  A masterfully made talwar, an Indian curved sword, with finely worked silver plating on the steel blade, the Silver Sword was unusually decorative. Even more unusual for a blade so fine, it showed signs of use, nicks and scratches from combat. Somehow, the silver plating had weathered those stresses. Lenore had hoped to help figure out its history, but for now it was a prize gift to the museum and a mystery for all.

  She wasn’t about to let someone steal it, no matter how handsome he was.

  Maxwell looked a little uncomfortable at that, surprised by the accusation. A devilish smile played at his lips, and he winked at her. “Why do you ask? Do I look like some kind of criminal to you?”

  “Well, no,” she answered, blushing a little but refusing to back down. “But if I could tell a thief by sight I’d probably be working as a detective or something. You didn’t answer the question.”

  His laugh sounded surprised and genuine, and he shook his head. “That’s a good answer, Lenore. I always thought my fated mate would be able to see right through me, and here you are, proving me right. A shame it’s at such an inconvenient moment, though.”

  Fated mate? What the hell? Lenore didn’t know what to make of that, or his apparent lack of concern about being caught stealing. She did, however, know that it didn’t matter.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, mister, but I am not letting you steal from the museum I work for!”

  His gaze met hers. Lenore felt like she was falling into the cool amber pools of his eyes. He took a deep breath, but before he could say anything or explain further, there was a noise from deeper inside the exhibition. A noise which shouldn’t have been there – Lenore recognized it as the sound of one of the display cases being opened carelessly.

  Maxwell moved faster than she’d have thought possible, grabbing her, lifting her in his arms, and carrying her down behind one of the display cases. His hand clasped over her mouth, but she was too startled to make a noise anyway. The close pressure of his solid, muscular body pinned against her made her head swim, the spicy smell of him overwhelming. Whatever scent he was wearing was going straight past her conscious mind and making her body ache for him.

  Stop it, Lenore, she told herself, biting the inside of her cheek to help focus. He’s not interested in you! First, he’s a thief and he’s using you. Second, he’s beautiful, why would he be interested in you? He could have any of those pretty girls at the party if he wanted to. Third, dragging you behind a display case is NOT romantic. What’s getting into you tonight?

  With mixed relief and disappointment, she realized Maxwell wasn’t paying her much attention beyond making sure she remained silent. He cautiously raised his head to look over the cabinet he’d dragged them behind, in the direction the noise had come from. Lenore put two and two together: the sounds were coming from the direction of the Silver Sword’s case. She cursed into his hand. He didn’t seem much happier with this turn of events than she did; she could feel a low growl rumbling through him, too low to be heard, but it shook her whole body. A dangerous tension seethed in him now, and something about his stillness made him frightening. She watched him take in a deep breath, shake his head, and duck back down behind the cover of the case.

  “Damn.” His voice was low, so quiet Lenore could barely hear it. “I’m very sorry Lenore, it looks like I’m too late to do this subtly. And I am sorry to have dragged you into this; I didn’t intend for it to be any trouble to you. I am going to let you go now, and trust that you’re smart enough not to make a noise.”

  His hand lifted from her mouth, and Lenore answered just as quietly. “What’s going on?”

  “No time to tell you, and you wouldn’t believe me anyway. Just… stay still and quiet here, no matter what happens, and you’ll be okay. Wait until you’re sure they’re gone before you do anything. You may not believe me, but I am sorry to have gotten you caught up in this.”

  He tugged at his tie as he spoke, pulling it off and slipping out of his jacket. “I’m not sure how the next few minutes are going to go,” he breathed, unbuttoning his shirt. “If I come out on top, you’re safe, but if I don’t… please don’t look into this. Don’t get any further involved.”

  “Like hell,” she hissed, outraged. How dare he tell her to just forget about all of this? She lowered her tone at his pleading look. “Looking after these things is my damned job, and I won’t be ignoring it. And why the hell are you getting undressed?”

  She felt him chuckle, though he made no noise. His chest was bare now, a beautiful, perfectly muscled body so close she could have touched it. She’d never seen a man half as good looking as him in the flesh before, and despite everything she couldn’t help wishing that she had more time to admire him. Maybe touch him. Maybe run her tongue over… stop that!

  He shot her a look, and there was a strange humor in his weird eyes. She almost thought he shared her desire as he undid his belt and wriggled out of his pants. It should have looked undignified, as he was careful not to rise high enough to be seen over the top of the case. But it didn’t seem that Maxwell was capable of looking undignified, no matter what he did. He was beautiful and graceful in the low lighting, his body hard and perfectly muscled. Lenore couldn’t keep herself from staring at him - he looked unbelievably good naked, completely calm and unruffled by her hungry gaze.

  “Hopefully you won’t find out,” he whispered to her as he finished undressing. “Now stay low, don’t panic, and for the love of God, don’t draw attention to yourself until this is over!”

  “And how will I know that?”

  “Oh, you’ll know. Trust me.” With that he was gone, his glorious naked body disappearing silently around the corner of the cabinet without a sound, leaving Lenore sitting by his discarded clothes.

  Trust him? If she hadn’t been trying to keep silent, she would have laughed at the idea, it was so absurd. Trust a thief who’d seduced her to get into the collection? Trust a madman who undressed in the middle
of his heist? Trust a gorgeous hunk of a man who had given her a wonderful… ok, that wasn’t strictly relevant, she admitted to herself. The point was, she wasn’t going to sit here quietly while two groups of thieves fought for her favorite item in the collection!

  Cautiously, she raised her head to look over the top of the cabinet, peering between the two statues there. It was too dark to see much, though. The Sword had its own case, or at least it did if it hadn’t been stolen yet. But that case was in the center of a ring of statues, and the spotlight that should be on it seemed to be out. She’d probably have noticed that sooner if she hadn’t been distracted by Maxwell’s presence and her lust for him.

  Someone moved in the shadows, though, she was sure of it. She considered calling for help, but no one would hear her from here. On the other hand… her signing them through the security door had switched off the motion detectors. If she signed out again, then the alarms should go off right away! That sounded like something she could actually do. Slipping off her shoes, she stood cautiously and edged out of the cover of the cabinet, starting to circle around the room to the nearest exit.

  Something in the darkness made a low, rumbling, angry noise. Like an animal, a very large animal. A large, dangerous, and above all hungry animal. Lenore walked faster. Another noise came, a muffled clack, repeated. It reminded her of a silenced pistol in a movie. But that was ridiculous, wasn’t it? Whether it was or not, she started to run.

  In the darkness someone shouted, an inarticulately angry noise. There was a clatter, metal hitting the floor and bouncing, and then a roar, loud enough to freeze Lenore in her tracks. What the hell was that? Was there really some kind of animal loose in the exhibit? The sound was low, rumbling, hungry sounding, and it paralyzed her with shock and fear.