Page 24 of Tempting the Tiger

“Yes, those.” She huffed.

He stalked closer. “You did not enjoy going to bed with me last night?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“But, what?” He knew better than to say anything about the women he had had sex with. Because that’s all it was. A scratching of an itch. Nothing more. Not until last night. Last night, he had made love to his mate. That she didn’t quite know that yet was just a small hurdle he had to overcome.

“But, but.” She looked up at him with her big brown eyes. Eyes that were still filled with doubt and concern. Doubt and concern he vowed to wipe away. And he was going to start right now. He began unbuttoning the shirt she had borrowed, taking his own sweet time at working each one free. It was such a simple act to be so erotic. To spread such heat through him. To fire such need. His breathing grew harsh as her supple, creamy flesh was exposed. The curves of her breasts, the swell of her stomach, the dark shadow between her legs and of course, her sweet, thick thighs. He shivered thinking of how those had felt wrapped around him as he had pumped inside her.

Reaching up, he slid his fingertips beneath the shirt, making only the smallest of contact with her skin until his palms glided across her shoulders. He pushed the shirt away, revealing all of her to his hungry eyes.

“Don’t think you can boss me around,” she whispered huskily as he let his hands curl around her hips. He moved upwards, following the slope of her stomach, the curve of her waist, then up over the arch of her rib cage. He watched their progress, fascinated by the sight. Though he knew she was neither fragile nor small, his hand made her seem so. It looked so big and dark and rough against the rose petal softness of her large breast.

“I believe, Habbi, that you will quite enjoy following my commands.” His lips crashed down on hers, unable to control the need he had to taste her again. The hours he had spent waiting for her to awaken had been torturous. He knew, even now, that he couldn’t take her again. Or shouldn’t.

As she moaned and pressed her body against his, he was certain he was not that much of a gentleman. And there were ways…

Grace’s body was on fire. Even though she ached in places she had never known existed, all she wanted to feel was the weight of his body on hers, the thick hardness of his cock as he pounded into her.

“Keair, please,” she whimpered as he released her mouth to move his down her body. He latched onto the nipple of her right breast, pulling it into his mouth and sucking. She felt the tug all the way to her womb. She dug her fingers into the rich smoothness of his hair, her nails biting into his scalp.

“Ssh, baby, just enjoy.” He picked her up, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist as he carried her into the shower. He sat her down on the tiled seat, kneeling between her legs. The water beat down on his back, throwing up a warm mist to cover her body. He leaned forward, licking the water away with his tongue. With his hands pressed flat against her shoulder blades, he brought her slowly to him. He took his time tasting her, enjoying her. He filled his mouth with the top of one breast, his tongue licking and stroking. The muscles in the back of her neck melted and her head fell back.

His hand traveled down her body, drawing small circles against her belly—slowly and rhythmically—before drifting down towards the soft tangle of curls between her thighs.

“Mmm,” he muttered. “I like this.”

Grace blushed with embarrassment. She hadn’t even thought about shaving down there. It just wasn’t something she was used to—or quite frankly had ever felt the need to do.

One finger slide between her wet lips and her throat dried as molten heat spread throughout her pussy. She felt her thighs part in silent invitation.

An invitation that he immediately accepted.

Keair smiled, his hungry, heavy-lidded eyes following the path of his hand. Unable to stand not tasting her, he pushed her legs apart, revealing her pink needy center. Her folds were wet, but not because of the shower. No, his woman was wet with want for him.

And he couldn’t wait to taste her.

Bending his head, he licked straight up her center. She jumped at the feel of his tongue on her, but he kept her in place, his hands squeezing the flesh of her thighs tightly. He did it again, her taste salty and sweet against his tongue. God, he needed her, he thought as his cock filled with blood. He thrust his tongue inside her hole, lapping up her cream. She tasted so damn good.

Her moans filled the air as he ate her. Knowing he couldn’t stand much more, he moved his attention to her clit. The nub was swollen, the skin bright pink. Engorged, ready to go off. He encircled the bud with tongue, licking all around it. When her hips bucked, he moved his hand, sinking two fingers deep inside her. He pushed them in and out, mimicking what he wanted to do to her sweet pussy with his hungry cock. Wetness covered him.

He spread his tongue and licked her. Over and over, the rough surface caught her smooth skin. She no longer moaned—could no longer moan—his actions stealing her ability to breathe. Soft, desperate sounds emitted from the back of her throat.

He knew what she needed and was more than willing to give it to her. He placed another finger insider, the width making her gasp. Then he curled his middle finger, finding the spot that would make her fly apart in his arms. He wrapped his lips around her clit, touching her at the same time.

“Keair!” she screamed, clenching his hair with her fingers.

He wanted to encourage her, urge her to come, but he couldn’t take his mouth away. He needed her burning for him, for—

Grace screamed Keair’s name again, her hips bucking up, and felt her orgasm consuming her, washing over her. He kept touching her, gentling his movements as her pleasure receded. Finally, he lifted his mouth from her body.

He trailed a lingering line of kisses up her body, nibbling on her breasts as he passed them. Then, his mouth was on hers in a kiss so sweet it almost made her want to cry. She felt like she was in a dream and she had no desire to wake up.

“Come.” He reached for her, intending no doubt to help her boneless body stand so they could shower. For a moment she sat unmoving, looking at him, trying to wrap her head around what was happening. She was in a five-star hotel suite with a real-life tiger shifter. Granted, this was where he lived, but the fact didn’t make it any less risqué in her book. Nope. In her mind, a hotel room equated to an illicit rendezvous.

And she realized she couldn’t have asked for a more exciting person to share this experience with. His ebony hair was slicked back with water from the shower. He stood proud and strong before her. His legs as thick as tree trunks and covered in a dark layer of hair. He looked powerful and exotic—complimenting his surroundings with a brooding sensuality which seemed to shimmer from somewhere deep inside him. Was that because of the tiger that lived inside him? She licked her lips, allowing her gaze to wander into that forbidden zone—the apex of those masculine legs. Between them was the instrument of pleasure her body was craving. Just looking at him made her want him. He looked so wild and untamed. So out of her league. But then, Grace had considered most men out of her league. She was curvy and round, simple and unsophisticated.

And Keair—well, Keair was a tiger shifter. An alpha in his own right, if she wasn't mistaken. He had certainly taken control of her.