No other would ever have a right to touch him, to belong to him, but her.
Her incisors lengthened. She could feel them, top and bottom, pushing to their natural length. The need to bite, to mark him, was growing inside her. To rake the hard column of his neck, to lick away any hurt the bite might have left.
Sensuality and her emerging sexuality rushed through her. The need to fight who she was, what she was, didn’t exist here. Here, she could be the woman she had been forced to hide, the Breed she’d been forced to deny.
There was no fighting whatever bond the heat reinforced inside her; she knew it on a level so deep, so primal, that she didn’t even try to fight it. Just as there was no fighting the hunger that only rose by the day.
She didn’t have to trust him to own him. Mating Heat went both ways. He may own her body, but she would own his as well. Trust wasn’t required.
This Bengal was hers.
The sound that escaped her throat wasn’t helpless longing this time. The tigress was awake. Determined, fierce, she would mark this Breed as hers, just as he’d marked her.
Where it counted.
? CHAPTER 13 ?
Ahh, there she was, the tigress she kept hidden, kept locked away so deep, so tight, that even the scent of her was often impossible to detect.
That primal, perfect tigress that a monster had come to life to protect.
The growl that fell from her lips was one of sensual daring, the look in her hammered gold eyes a challenge he intended to accept. And right there, along the side of her face, two shadowed marks just beneath the skin darkening with a golden hue. They weren’t black as his were, but a rich, Bengal gold, gleaming with wild promise.
The sight of them made him harder, sent the erotic hunger digging into his already taut testicles.
“How perfect.” His voice was deeper than he liked, evidence that his own animal instincts were raging out of control.
Lifting his hand, he smoothed the pad of his thumb over one subtle stripe.
She was absolutely perfect, but he’d always known she would be.
“Kiss me or kill me, but do one or the other immediately,” she snapped up at him, her gaze gleaming with the challenge in her voice. “You’re wasting my time.”
Wasting her time, was he?
He’d warned her what would happen if he dared to kiss her. There would be no turning back.
“Foreplay?” he drawled.
“Foreplay? For a kiss? Get real, Bengal. And make up your mind, I don’t have all day.” Her gaze was on his lips, the scent of her arousal filling his brain, making him high on the unique scent, the evidence that she hungered just as he did.
Sliding his hand to the back of her neck, his fingers cupping the fragile stem, he didn’t stop to think. Burying his hand in her hair and clenching the strands, he pulled her head back, his lips lowering, his control shot.
The taste of her exploded in his senses. Honeyed female, sweet soft need and innocence.
Parting her lips for him, she met him, lip to lip, her tongue rubbing against his as it penetrated her lips, her body arching, reaching for him.
Silken flesh pressed against him, hard-tipped nipples and swollen breasts separated from his flesh by fragile lace.
Before he could stop himself, he sliced through the back of the bra with sharp claws, pulling it from her and tossing the remnants to the floor.
Churning, white-hot need shot through his senses. Slanting his lips over hers, he took the kiss, controlled it, his tongue teasing hers until she clamped on it with her lips, her tongue stroking over it, her mouth suckling it.
His cock jerked in demand. Pressing against the zipper of his pants, fully engorged and throbbing with the blood rushing through it, it flexed with the furious need to bury itself inside her. Releasing the material and shedding his pants was torture. He couldn’t get them off fast enough.
An unbidden growl rumbled in his chest as he finally kicked free of both his boots and the denim, allowing him to lift her to him, before turning and carrying her to the bed.
Never had he ached like this. Never had the need for sex taken him by the balls so quickly and with such disastrous loss of control.
A sweet, wicked heat lashed at his chest as he dropped her to the bed. Looking down, a smile tugged at his lips at the sight of the three thin scratches she’d raked into the middle of his chest.
Running two fingers over the blood welling on his chest, he lifted them before lowering them to her lips to smear the scarlet dampness over the swollen curves. As they touched the kiss-swollen flesh her tongue flicked over them instead.
The feel of damp warmth licking over his fingertips sent a surge of lust-filled pleasure arrowing straight to his balls. They clenched, need exploding through his senses and stealing more of his control.
Pure wild hunger was overwhelming him, but just behind those animal urges he knew what waited.