Night of the Tiger(50)

She wrapped her hand around his wrist. They had to stop. The back of her hand brushed against his erection. Even through his pants, she could feel it, hard and hot, pulsing against her skin. Unable to resist, she slowly released her grip on his arm and turned her hand slowly until her palm was pressed against him.

He growled. The sound was so much like a real tiger it startled her. She jerked her hand away as her eyes flew to his. His nostrils flared and his lips parted slightly. The blue of his eyes were almost swallowed up by the black pupils. His breathing was ragged, his features stark with need.

Aimee swallowed hard. Every cell in her body responded to him. His need was hers. Her core was soaked with cream and her breasts ached for his touch. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he’d cast some sort of sexual spell on her.

The thought gave her pause. She licked her lips. His eyes followed every movement of her tongue. “Is this normal?”

He leaned down and nuzzled the sensitive skin behind her ear. “Is what normal?” Capturing the lobe between his teeth, he tugged gently.

Aimee’s legs shook and her knees turned to jelly. She clutched his biceps for support. His skin was warm and supple, but there was no give in him anywhere. “This…this sexual energy between us. Is this something you’re doing so I’ll be more cooperative? Some special power you have?” The thought appalled her. “I’ll help you no matter what.” It was important to her that he understood that.

He jerked back so fast she stumbled to one side. He clamped his hands around her upper arms to keep her from falling, but held her at arm’s length. She tried to move, but he tightened his grip almost imperceptibly. He wasn’t hurting her, but the intent was clear. She was going nowhere until he allowed it.

Nothing showed on his face. His features were blank again. Only his eyes gave her a clue to what he was thinking. The fire in them was unmistakable. But the lust was gone, replaced by anger.

“Is that what you think?” His voice was calm and soft, but she wasn’t fooled for one second. Roric was furious with her.

She shrugged, or tried to. His hold on her made it virtually impossible for her to move her upper body. “It was just a thought.”

“Well, don’t think it.”

Her own anger began to bubble up inside her. “What was I supposed to think? I don’t exactly have men beating down my door, you know. I’ve got a scarred face and a bum leg. I’m not exactly a prize.” Her breathing was coming faster and faster. “And you’re this immortal hunk. I’m supposed to believe you just happened to be attracted to me?”

“Yes.” That one word was little more than a guttural groan as he yanked her closer and slammed his mouth down on hers. Heat suffused her entire body. She stopped trying to get away from Roric and surged toward him.

His grip changed. Instead of trying to hold her at arm’s length, his hands slid down her arms and over her back until he was cupping her ass. Aimee moaned as he hauled her against him. His cock was hard against her belly. Hitching one leg over his thigh, she rubbed her mound against it. She panted for breath as sexual heat began to well up within her.

Roric lifted her and she twined her legs around his waist. The motion brought her pussy hard against his straining erection. Even though there were layers of clothing separating them, the heat and force of the movement felt incredible. He was so hard, so hot. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she buried her face against the curve of his shoulder as she tried desperately to move her swollen clit against him. She was so close to coming.

Suddenly, Roric was pushing her legs down and away. She mewled her disappointment, but there was no way to stop him. He was so much stronger than she was. Her feet hit the floor and her back rested against the wall. Roric growled as his fingers went to the waistband of her jeans and tore them open. The zipper came down in a flash.

He dipped his big hands beneath the fabric and shoved it to her knees. Roric dropped to the floor in front of her, pushing her thighs as wide as they would go. With her jeans and panties caught around her calves, it wasn’t far. Aimee struggled to get her clothing off, but Roric gripped her thighs in his hands, leaned forward and kissed the scars that surrounded her left knee and ran up her thigh.

Aimee froze. Her chest rose and fell with every breath she sucked into her starving lungs. He was so close a lock of his hair tickled her inner thighs. Raising his head, he stared up at her and growled. “I don’t know what’s wrong with the men around here, but I want you. Only you.” Leaning forward, he nipped at her flesh with enough pressure to make her jump, but not enough to hurt her. As always, he carefully controlled his strength.