Tiger's Dream (The Tiger Saga #5)

Spinning quickly, I wedged one of my legs between hers and swept her feet out from under her. She came down hard on the solid floor and I had a moment of weakness. Moving closer, I asked if she was hurt, but she opened her eyes, smiled, and kicked me in the kidneys for my effort.

All bets were off then. We dove and twisted. Caught each other in headlocks. Tossed each other across the room until we were battered, bruised, and surely had a broken bone or two or twenty, and neither of us was inclined to stop. The fight had turned desperate, almost cruel.

Both of us were trying to prove something to the other, but neither of us had any idea of how to achieve it. I had no awareness of how much time passed, but when I looked up, the breath heaving in my lungs, I saw that the light in the temple had traveled across the floor and up to the ceiling. We were both exhausted. I feigned to the left and caught her off guard. Pressing her against the wall, I pushed my heavy arm across her throat and said, “Still think I’m soft?”

She tilted her head, birdlike, uncaring that I could cut off her breath at any moment. “Not soft perhaps, but still a coward.”

Ana’s beautiful dress was ripped, flapping jaggedly in several places. A torn sleeve had slipped precariously off one honey-kissed shoulder. The hair that had once been so perfectly arranged hung down around her in an unruly jumble, offering me teasing glimpses of the generous curves that her gown now barely covered.

Even though she was trapped, she heaved her body and struggled against me, trying to kick me between the legs or stomp on my instep. “Now, now. None of that, my lady fair.” I moved closer. My body shoved tightly against hers so there was absolutely no way for her to move.

She gasped and my eyes were drawn to her lush mouth. I felt a tremble go through her and knew what it was. Fear. Not fear of defeat or fear of death, but fear of a man and the things a man could do to a vulnerable woman. It tore me up inside. “Do you concede?” I asked softly.

“Never,” she answered, lifting her chin defiantly. Her cheeks were rose-tinged from our fight. Her hair was damp with perspiration and her eyes were hard as gemstone. There was a streak of dirt on her cheek and across her forehead. It didn’t matter. She was beautiful. She was mesmerizing.

Despite the cold I felt at knowing what a man who’d hungered after Ana had done to her as a child, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting her. Closing my eyes, I tried to temper my desire. The tiger in me had caught his prey and he wasn’t about to let her escape. He wanted to dig in his claws and claim what was rightfully his. But I wasn’t a beast. At least, not always.

Not trusting my voice, I spoke to her mind instead, and said, I know why you quake, Ana. Trust me when I say it will be easier for you to leave than for me to walk away. Use your magic to escape, I entreated.

You think I wish to flee? she countered.

Confused, I slowly moved my arm away from her throat. If you could read my thoughts, you would.

“I am not afraid of your thoughts,” she said out loud.

“Then tell me what it is you want from me.” I replied, my voice low and menacing. As my eyes fixed on the pulse at her throat, I lowered my head, swallowed heavily, and said, “What do you want, Ana?”

Her dark brows lifted and she wet her lips. Then, her voice catching, our hot breaths mingling together, she said, “I want…I want…”

Before she could finish, I slammed my mouth against hers. I expected her to push me away or disappear, but the exact opposite happened. She whimpered and cupped the back of my head, pulling me closer. When her lips opened, it was my turn to groan. Threading my fingers through hers, I slapped her hands onto the stone. Her entire body was wriggling and straining as her lips danced with mine with as much roughness as she’d shown during the fight.

Though I was aware of nothing at first except her mouth and her body, soon I recognized the telltale tingle of power that signified our bond. It was muted and stifled at first, but the longer the kiss went on, the more it invigorated our connection. I was intoxicated by it. By her.

A part of my mind knew there would be a consequence. That this bond would become permanent between us if I allowed it to fully develop. I growled in the back of my throat, knowing she deserved to choose. It was all I could do to stem the tide and ask if it was what she wanted.

Ana? My body thrummed but I locked thoughts with her, sending her a vague image of what was happening.

Yes, was her only reply.

It was like pouring gas on a fire. There was no more doubt. No more hesitancy. No more asking. Only taking. And the pressing need to forge into unbreakable steel the sizzling chains that connected us. Soon my limbs crackled with a silvery energy. The humming of our bond brightened and intensified, matching the crash of passion as we tormented one another, stoking the fires of desire.

She escaped my grip and yanked on my hair while I wrapped an arm around her waist and picked her up, slipping my other hand into her wild tresses and angling her head so the kiss could deepen. When one of her legs slid up my thigh, I was seriously close to losing the feeble grasp on control I had.

The unending kiss was bruising and brutal, dangerous and fiery. Very different from the one in the forest, but no less powerful and no less life-changing. It was both punishing and promising. And it whispered of things neither of us was quite ready for. So I pushed her back against the wall to pin her body and calm her feverish response. It didn’t do much to cool my heated blood, but it did work on her.

Breaking the kiss, I touched my forehead to hers. Both of us were panting. And I feared that whatever I said next could ruin everything and take us right back to where we were when she’d thrown me the sword. Before I could speak, she warned, “If you try to apologize, I will banish you to the darkest abyss I can find.”

“Good to know,” I said, a sort of relief washing through me. Raising my head, I found she wouldn’t meet my eyes. I lifted the hair that fell across her damp cheek and pushed it over her shoulder, then gently ran a hand over her shoulder and down her arm, relishing in the familiar tingles.

“Our bond is back,” I said, lifting the corner of my mouth. A bond seemed like such a tiny word for something so intimate, so indefinably powerful.

“It would seem to be,” she said. Ana’s expression did not give me any indication that she was as affected by our kiss as I was. Her muscles were tense and her skin was hot. She was a coil ready to spring.

I leaned back but was unwilling to remove my hands from her skin. “Why won’t you open your mind to me?” I asked quietly, reveling in the thrum of our connection as it shot warm tingles into my palm where I touched her. My body was sore, my muscles tired, but my nerves were invigorated just by being close to her. “I need to understand what’s happening here. I want to know what you’re thinking,” I said. “Share your thoughts with me, Ana. Please.”

Pushing away from me, she turned and walked out of the temple. Every inch she put between us felt like a mile. I wanted her back in my arms with an intensity that shocked me. I’d never in my long life felt as possessive of a woman as I did with her. In that moment, I realized I never wanted to part with her. With Yesubai and Kelsey I’d felt attraction and tenderness. Both girls were sweet and loving. I returned their affections and thought I might have been happy with either one of them.

But with Ana there was an aching. It was raw and painful. She had the power to make me so angry that my vision went red and all I wanted to do was…was push her against a wall and kiss her until she stopped talking. When she was sad, I wanted to wrap my arms around her and hold her until all her sorrow leached into me instead, sharing her pain as she had done when I suffered. The very thought of making her happy was a wish that haunted me.