N. Walters - Night of the Tiger

Capturing her chin between his thumb and index finger, he tipped her face upward. A single tear trickled from the corner of her eye.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He swiped at the tear with his thumb. “I’m sorry this happened to you, sorry you’ve become a part of this nightmare.”

Sighing, she nodded. What could she say? There was nothing anyone could say to make this go away. Unable to bear seeing her so sad, he lowered his mouth to hers. He knew he shouldn’t, but he did it anyway. Their lips met, clung briefly before parting.

He never took his eyes from her, watching her reaction. Her breath was warm on his face as she leaned closer. Yearning and need were etched on her face. Roric recognized it because it mirrored the growing need pounding through his blood. He needed to taste this woman one more time. If his life was going to come to an end, he wanted his last thoughts, his last moments, to be with her.

It was crazy. Insane. But he didn’t care.

His fingers went to the tie of his pants and waited. He could have easily willed his clothing away, but he wanted to give Aimee a choice, a chance to object. He hardly dared to breath. After what had happened, he’d never imagined Aimee allowing him to touch her again. The thought that she would let him stroke her delectable curves, take him into the warm heat of her body, had all the blood in his veins surging toward his cock.

The shower curtain slithered over her skin as she released it. Blood pounded in his ears like a raging river, shutting out all other sound. In the blink of an eye, he willed his pants and boots away, leaving him naked.

Her wide-eyed gaze stroked him like a physical caress. His cock jerked, and a pearly bead seeped from the tip when she licked her full, lush lips. He was so ready he knew he’d come fast. There was no time for prolonged foreplay. This was a mating. A claiming.

He stepped into the shower with her, crowding her toward the wall. The water poured over his back, washing the sweat of battle and several spatters of blood from his skin. Placing his hands flat on the tiles, he caged her between the wall and his body.

With her black hair plastered to her skull and her green eyes glowing, she looked like a sexy water nymph. Not even the faint scars on her left cheek could detract from her beauty. But there was an air of sadness around her, as if she too sensed this was their last time together.

He wanted to say something soft and romantic, but what came out was, “I want you.”

Her eyes widened and their color deepened. Even though their bodies weren’t touching, he could feel the heat rolling off her skin. Her nipples were taut buds of desire, straining toward him, and her fingers clenched and unclenched as she shifted from one foot to another.

The sweet perfume of her arousal wafted up to tantalize him. A low, guttural growl broke from his throat as the beast within him reared up, scenting its mate. There was no doubt her body wanted his. Still, he waited. Too much had already been taken from her. It had to be her choice.

Aimee couldn’t take her gaze off Roric. She didn’t think he had any idea that his skin was changing color, striped like a tiger’s one moment and then tanned like the warrior the next. His eyes flashed pale blue, the heat in them scorching her. Even the color of his hair seemed to deepen. The white practically shone, while the black seemed even darker.

The beast within him wanted out.

She should have been afraid. There were demons hunting them who would do their best to kill them both before the midnight deadline. The contract had been clear—if they lived past that time, Hades would forfeit their souls forever. They would both be safe from reprisals. The agreement was binding, even to a god.

Then there was Roric. He was on the verge of losing his humanity to the animal side of his nature. It was both scary and incredibly sexy to watch. He seemed to grow even larger as he loomed over her.

He surrounded her, yet he wasn’t touching her. In spite of what had happened back in the tent, there was no doubt in her mind that he’d lay down his life for her. His honor demanded it.

She didn’t want him to put his life on the line for her because of honor. She didn’t want him to die, period. But if he was going to sacrifice himself, she wanted it to be for a very different reason. She wanted it to be because he loved her.

As she loved him.

Crazy or not, she loved him. There was no denying what was staring her right in the face. Aimee knew she would do anything to keep him out of Hades’ clutches, even if it meant sacrificing her life. This cursed immortal warrior of a past time was the love of her life. And they would probably both be dead in a matter of hours.

This was her last chance to love him.

“This is usually the part of the movie where the heroine would get killed by the villains,” she told him as she unclenched her fingers and placed them on his hard chest. “It’s not smart to make love in the shower when there are demons after you.” His heart beat a steady, heavy rhythm against her palm.

“I’ll sense them before they attack,” he assured her.

She wasn’t so sure of that but didn’t contradict him. He leaned closer, letting his chest brush against the tips of her breasts. All thoughts of reason flew out the window. Her nipples puckered even more as he shifted slowly, rubbing his skin over them.

To hell with reason. Aimee wanted to forget everything that had transpired. She didn’t want to worry about gods or goddesses or demons. She wanted to celebrate life in the most elemental way possible. Roric was a man and she was a woman, and they wanted each other. That was enough. It had to be.

She groaned, letting her hands flow over his hard abs and around to his firm butt. He had the best ass she’d ever seen, firm and full. She squeezed his buns, urging him closer.

He didn’t need a second invitation.

Roric swooped down and captured her mouth. His tongue swept past her lips, caressing her teeth, her tongue. His erection was warm, almost hot, against her belly, and she wiggled, wanting to get even closer. Her sex burned with need. He was a fever in her blood.

Lifting her leg, she hooked it over his thigh, bringing her mound in contact with his swollen cock. She went up on her toes, rubbing his hard length over her swollen clit. Tremors shook her as she did it again. This was what she wanted. What happened between them when they came together like this was real. And it was beautiful.

He slid his hands over the curve of her hip and lower. Long, thick fingers parted her slick folds, testing her readiness. She gasped as he pressed two of them deep. This might be crazy, but she wanted—no, needed—for it to happen.

“You’re always so wet. So ready.” She heard the wonder in his voice as he slid his fingers all the way out and rimmed the opening to her sheath before plunging back.

Aimee was past being embarrassed by her body’s reaction to him. It was what it was. She embraced the heat, the growing need.

He shoved his hips toward her, grinding his erection against her belly. “I only have to look at you, smell your scent and I’m hard,” he growled.

She loved the way he did that. His voice got low and raspy, more animal than human. She liked knowing she affected him as deeply as he affected her.

“I have to have you.” Leaning down, he took the lobe of her ear between his lips and sucked on it. “I want my cock in your pussy.” He nibbled on the sensitive skin just below her ear.

Aimee arched her neck to give him better access. Her entire body felt over-sensitized. Ripe. Ready.

“I want to feel you squeezing me as I pump into you.”

The shower was filled with steam, giving a dreamlike quality to the encounter. Her skin was slick and she was hot, almost feverish with need.