Masks of a Tiger (8 page)

It wouldn't take much to
send her over the edge again.
Just looking at him made her
cunt clench in remembered pleasure.
Neeve
had
plenty of sexual encounters with both sexes, but no one had ever brought her to
such an intense orgasm. Being restrained as she had been, bent over his knee,
helpless to do anything but accept his punishment had been such a fucking turn
on. But what had pushed her into oblivion had been his reaction at being called
“
Sir”.

His approval had washed
over, seeping into every corner of her soul until all the hurtful little cracks
had been filled by him. Their connection had been so strong at that moment, an
invisible line linking them together. To have a man that focused on your
pleasure was a heavy aphrodisiac indeed, and one she would gladly swallow her
pride for and call him
Sir.

Just like in the videos
she'd seen he had not sought his own release, and
Neeve
had to wonder why. She would not have stopped him, had he thrust his cock
inside any part of her. She had been far too busy floating on her cloud of
sensual bliss, yet he'd seemingly only taken off her dress and shoes. Her dress
was folded neatly on a chair, her shoes placed underneath, and she wondered
when he'd managed to do that. She had no recollection of him leaving her at
all. His scent and warmth had soothed her into an exhausted sleep instead.

Poor baby.
He had to
hurt. She traced the outline of his cock through the fabric of his jeans, and
the half erect shaft hardened immediately.
Grisha
stirred, releasing his hold on her, and she scooted away from him. He frowned
in his sleep, and she held her breath; but he didn’t wake up. He flung one of
his arms over his head, and
Neeve
smiled. The move
had brought his wrist right next to the padded restraints attached to the headboard.
It would be matter of moments to tie him up.

Heat exploded in her
core at the thought of giving him a taste of his own medicine. She placed her
feet gingerly on the stone floor and suppressed a gasp at the coldness under
her toes. Her movement caused the dimmed light to brighten, and
Neeve
froze as she took a look at her surroundings. The
walls and the steel entrance door were heavily padded, the stone floor bare.
The bed on which
Grisha
lay dominated that side of
the room. A padded and terribly imposing looking Saint Andrew's
Cross
stood in one corner; a spanking bench was in the
middle of the room, and a long sideboard stood against one wall. Her curiosity
getting the better of her she ran her fingers along the bench and fingered the
restraints. She ducked under the set of ropes hanging from the ceiling. They
brushed against her bare skin as she did so, and left tingles in their wake.
One of the videos she'd watched over and over had shown
Grisha
tying up a woman until she resembled a human parcel. The rope dress, part of
Shibari
, as she'd found out it was called, had accentuated
the sub's breasts and left her pussy on display, her arousal evident from the
sheen of moisture coating her thighs.

Neeve
had always
liked ropes. As a child she had always wanted to be the Red Indian, tied, and
gagged, and she'd loved squirming against the ropes, wearing her Chinese burns
like a badge of honor. As an adult now the thought gave her pause for thought.
She'd never looked at it like that, and she wasn't sure what that sudden
self-discovery meant. She glanced across at
Grisha
to
make sure he was still sleeping and wrapped the rope around her wrist twice.
She tugged on it to make sure it was tight and hissed under her breath at the
stretching sensation.

A movement from the bed
sent her heart into overdrive, but he still seemed fast asleep, a small smile
playing around his lips, as though he was dreaming about something amusing. She
padded back to the bed to make sure, but his chest still fell and rose in the
even pattern that could only signal sleep. Judging by the erection straining
against his fly, his cock, however, was most certainly not asleep.

As much as she wanted to
explore the rest of this dungeon, and she was dying to find out what that side
cabinet was holding, he was bound to wake up soon, and unless she got him
restrained before he woke up, this was never going to work.

She reached across him
to secure one wrist to the padded handcuff, and
Grisha
turned his head. The move brought his mouth in line with her breasts, and her
nipples puckered into hard little nubs of need, as his hot breath skimmed
across them. Her heart turned into a jackhammer, and she looked down to ensure
he was still sleeping. He appeared to be, but that smile of his had grown
wider, and she hastily moved his other arm and secured it, before he could stop
her.

He didn't
move,
just lay perfectly still, his long eyelashes crescent
moons against his cheekbones. Was he asleep? But he had to be, surely? He was a
Dom. He would not let her tie him up unless he was indeed asleep, would he?

A shiver of unease went
down her spine. What on earth was she doing? He would be furious when he woke
up restrained. She hastily went to undo the strap on his left arm when his deep
voice stopped her.

"Now, that would be
a shame. You've gone through so much trouble. I'm rather looking forward to
finding out what my little tigress has planned for me."

She could hear the smile
in his voice, and before she could move he'd sucked one of her nipples into his
mouth through the lace of her bra. She put her hands either side of his head to
support
herself
, as liquid heat erupted between her
thighs, and she bit back her instant moan of surrender.

What that man could do
with his mouth...
 
He shifted his hips,
and she straddled him automatically to give him better access and to ground
herself, as every suck and bite shot straight to her clit. She rubbed her
sodden core across his naked abdomen, and his muscles tensed underneath her. He
growled against the nipple flattened across the roof of his mouth, and the
vibrations that caused sent darts of white hot arousal to her clit. He released
that nipple and licked a path across to the other one, before giving it the
same treatment.

Neeve's
nipples
weren't usually that sensitive, but if he kept that up she would come on the
spot just from that stimulation alone. He took her right to the edge, his
breathing as labored as hers, and then he stopped. He blew against her wet
nipples and winked when she moaned her denial.

"Damn you,
Grisha
." She shrieked when he pulled his knees up and
pitched her forward. She fell on top of him, and her breath left her lungs when
he bit her shoulder hard enough to hurt.

"Watch it, sub.
What do you call me?"

Neeve
pulled away
in defiance and rubbed the mark he left behind with her fingers.

"Damn you,
Sir
.
That hurt!"

He growled low in his
throat, as his eyes followed the movement of her fingers and bled to golden.
She sat transfixed seeing that transformation. This time she could not put it
down to a trick of the light as his pupils turned into cat-like slits. His
scent increased tenfold, causing her to inhale sharply. Her insides tightened
in need, and she balled her fingers into fists to stop herself from touching
him as his hands elongated and formed into claws and the air around him began
to shimmer. She had to be seeing things? Had he drugged her when she was
sleeping?

Disbelief turned to
sheer terror, as his face too changed, and he showed a mouth full of razor
sharp teeth. She scooted away from him and ran for the door, frantically
searching for a handle that wasn't there.

Shit, shit, damn, and
fucking shit.

The deep growl behind
her trembled through every part of her body and stopped her dead. That sounded
just like a big cat—a very big, powerful cat. She stopped breathing altogether
when a wet nose bumped into her thigh, and she turned round slowly, so as not
to spook whoever or whatever she might find behind her. Were the rumors not
rumors after all? It seemed not.

In front of
her stood a huge Siberian tiger.

Chapter Six

Grisha
flicked his
tail and crouched low onto the floor in an effort to be less threatening.
Seeing her run in terror, the scent of her fear thick in the air and completely
obliterating her previous
arousal,
had had his tiger
whine and sent him into pursuit mode. When she'd responded to his playful bite
with her usual defiance his tiger had roared his displeasure. Seeing her
slender fingers rub his mark had unleashed the beast, and he'd been unable to
stop his shift.

Unwilling to,
if he was honest.
It had been amusing and enlightening to see her
explore Ink's dungeon when she'd assumed him asleep. Little had she known that
his tiger had jumped to attention the minute she'd
moved.
 
Grisha
had wanted
to see what she would do. He had half expected her to try to run then. The fact
that she didn't had given him a warm glow inside he didn't dare to examine too
closely. So, he'd watched her from under hooded eyes, getting more turned on by
the minute by her innocent exploration. Her breathing had sped up, and her skin
had flushed when she'd examined the ropes, and it had taken every ounce of
self-control to not jump off the bed and mark her pale flesh with the ties of
Shibari
before he sought his own release in her delightful
body.

But
Grisha
had demanded her honesty, and she deserved his honesty, too. He couldn't claim
her body without her knowing who he truly was. So he'd forced himself to wait,
every muscle in his body coiled for action, the control on his beast slipping
more and more as she restrained him, her tits so close to his face he'd wanted
to bury his face in the silken globes and never come up for air. The perfect
handful, they'd taunted him; her nipples little come-get-me-beacons, signaling
her arousal as clearly as the musk that filled his nostrils.
 
He'd taken the hard nubs of pleasure into his
mouth and wrought some more sweet torture of his own.

His claws dug into the
floor now as her fear subsided, and she slid down the wall. She hugged her
knees to her chest, her eyes as wide as saucers as she looked him over.

"It can't be true.
She would have told me."

He inched closer,
keeping his belly on the floor, mindful to not scare her again, until he was
close enough to lick her hand. She jumped, but the white knuckled grip she had
on her legs loosened slightly, and, encouraged by her response, he licked her
again.

Her breath caught, and
she closed her eyes, as he licked a path up one arm and then the other. By the
time he licked along her neck up to her jaw, her hands fisted into his fur, not
to push him away, but to pull him closer. He rested his head on her shoulder,
and they sat like that for a while, until her heart rate slowed down and her
fists unclenched again. She moved, and he raised his head to study her
expression. She gave him a watery smile and stroked his fur.
Hesitant
at first, and then with more surety.
He leant into her caresses and
purred his approval.

She giggled, and he
licked her nose. Then swatted him away and laughed again.

"You know that this
is utterly ridiculous, right? I know what this is. I'm at home, having fallen
asleep on the couch, drinking that cheap wine my p.a. bought me for my
birthday, and I'm having wine-induced nightmares. I'm not really sitting in a
dungeon, talking to a fucking tiger. I'm
not
."

Her voice rose on the
last word, and she shook her head with enough force to give her whiplash.
Time to get back to his human self and to reassure her.
They
needed to talk, and he couldn't do that unless he shifted back. His tiger
growled his protest; and
Neeve
pulled her knees back
up to her chest, and her expression grew wary. He showed her a toothy smile
that made her eyes widen, and he forced his tiger to retreat.

His bones cracked and
rearranged, his skin heated and his fur retreated, as the air around him
shimmered. With the familiar burn settling all over him, he crouched on the
floor back in his human form. The whole process took seconds, and unlike the
first time he'd shifted it was mostly painless. Back then he had howled his
distress at the forest floor, terrified of what was happening to his body. He
closed his eyes and pushed the distressing memories away.

The trembling hand on
his arm took him by surprise, and he looked up into
Neeve's
concerned gaze.

"Does it hurt? When
you do that?"

He smiled in an effort
to reassure her and covered her hand with his.

"No,
sweetheart, not really."

Neeve
narrowed her
eyes and pursed her lips at his enigmatic response. An invisible weight lifted
off his shoulders, and he squeezed her hand. She wasn't freaking out
completely, so that was a good start. His smile deepened when she squeezed him
back, and her eyes darted down to his groin briefly before fixing her eyes on a
spot over his shoulder.