Savage Nature (32 page)

He was exhausted. It had been a long while since he’d had to fight leopards, and for a test of whether his leg would hold up or not, this had been a baptism by fire. He laughed softly to himself. His doctor had been very specific. Shift—but take his time. Go slowly. Feel the leg out. Make certain it held up before using it strenuously. Somehow he didn’t think he was following the doctor’s orders too closely. Yeah. He was fine. His leopard was fine. The world was right again—well, almost. When he considered there was a psycho serial killer leopard on the loose and an entire out-of-control lair to deal with—maybe things weren’t quite so right. But for now, for tonight, knowing Saria would lie beside him, he’d take whatever peace he could and be damned happy about it.

“Are you plannin’ on stayin’ in the bath all night?”

Saria’s soft voice pulled him out of his revelry. He’d drifted off, floating in hot water that had gone warm on him. He ducked his head under the water to rinse out his hair and came up looking for her. She stood in the doorway, dressed in a short tank top and small pair of boy shorts that clung to her hips and buttocks lovingly.

“You sleeping in that?”

She tugged at the hem of the shirt that didn’t quite cover her belly. “What’s wrong with it?”

“I’ll just have to take it off you in a couple of hours.”

“You want me to go to bed with you
naked
?”

He stood up, stark naked himself, allowing the water to pour off of his body. “Yes. I want to feel your skin against my skin.”

Saria didn’t avert her eyes. She reached for a towel and instead of handing it to him, when he stepped from the tub, she began to dry him off, her hands gentle as she skimmed the soft material over the lacerations on his chest and belly. When she lingered, he pretended not to notice, standing patiently, waiting for her to claim his body in her own way.

She seemed fascinated and not at all shy. Nervous, yes, but not shy. She stroked the towel down his back and over his buttocks, removing the water drops as she continued down his legs.

“You’re really quite beautiful,” she said. “Very symmetrical.”

He was struck by the tone of her voice. It was factual, observant, almost scientific. He found himself smiling. “Symmetrical?”

She touched his muscles. “Each side is amazingly perfect when the human body isn’t really that way at all.”

“You do know I’m real, don’t you?” He tried not to laugh.

“You’d be perfect to photograph, Drake.”

“It isn’t going to happen, Saria.” He looked down at the expression on her upturned face and he did laugh. Dragging the towel from her hands, he tossed it aside, wrapped his arms around her and walked her backward into the bedroom. “No matter how much you pout, how cute you are, no matter if you’re the sexiest woman alive, the answer is
no.
”

“Consider that you should do it for art. For science.”

He lifted her easily and tossed her on the bed. “Absolutely, unequivocally,
no.
” He plunged the room into darkness.

“We’ll see. You have to open the French doors.”

“Are you too warm? And the answer will always be no.”

“I have to sleep with the windows or door open or I can’t breathe.”

He opened the double doors. The night breeze slid into the room and Saria smiled at him. He couldn’t help just standing there by the door admiring her with the moonlight spilling into the room. Her hair was tousled, her skin gleaming like porcelain and her body soft and curvy and inviting.

She patted the bed next to her. “Come and lie down.”

“You don’t have a camera hidden somewhere, do you?” He put suspicion in his voice.

“I might,” she teased.

“I’ll have to search you.” She was studying him just as thoroughly as he was looking at her. He liked the feel of her gaze on him. He might be exhausted and hurting, but she made him feel more alive and exhilarated than he’d ever felt in his life.

He approached the bed slowly, watching her eyes, watching the heat flare there. Her eyes darkened, but the amber flecks grew brighter, becoming like tiny pieces of gold, now molten and spreading through the dark chocolate. His groin tightened and he knelt over her, caching her ankles in his hands and dragging her body down to him.

She moistened her lips, but her dark gaze never left his. His palm slid up the curve of her leg, tracing her form. Her long lashes swept down and then up, so that she watched him through half-closed eyes. He stroked his hands up her legs and over her hips, hooking her thin boy shorts and slowly lowering them from her body, all the while holding her gaze. The gold spread through the irises of her eyes until the color formed perfect circles. He read fear there, but the desire outweighed the fear.

He stretched out beside her, one hand splayed on her stomach, feeling her muscles bunch beneath his palm. She trembled, her eyes going wide, but she didn’t try to pull away from him. He wanted her with every cell in his body. He brushed a kiss along her temple, down to the corner of her eye and along her cheek. He heard her breath turn a little ragged and he drew lazy circles on her bare skin just under her breasts as he nudged her top up a little.

He found he was trembling as well. He needed her. She had brought life to him when he had long ago given up on it. He worked a job where life expectancy just wasn’t that long. The adrenaline rush had gotten him through, but now—now there was sunlight and laughter. There was all this golden skin and her honesty. There was need as he’d never known it before.

Drake caught the back of her head, holding her still while he took possession of her mouth, catching her breathy sigh. Kissing her made him a little drunk. There was the odd sensation of soaring when he wasn’t a fanciful person. Once started, it was impossible to stop. He slid his tongue along the seam of her mouth, more than willing to sink further under her spell.

Her mouth was soft warm velvet, her tongue tangling tentatively with his. Her hands went to his shoulders as he shifted just a little to ease his body partially over hers. The tips of her breasts brushed his bare chest through the thin material of her tank top. He pulled the shirt from her in one swift movement and as she gasped, he covered her mouth with his again, swallowing her little shocked cry.

He was a little shocked at the need burning in him, the almost desperate fire raging in his bloodstream. He wanted to go slow and be careful with her. He couldn’t even blame his leopard for the primitive desire to devour her whole. Lust mingled with an almost overwhelming love, making his hands shake as he brought his palm up to cup her full breasts.

He kissed his way down her neck, his teeth biting gently at her scented skin as he followed the line of her throat to the swell of her breasts. For just a moment he looked at her, drinking in the confused, nearly dazed expression, her little moan of pleasure and half-closed eyes. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “So damn beautiful you break my heart.”

Her breathing had become agitated, her breasts rising and falling, so tempting with her hard nipples thrusting up at him in invitation. He lowered his head and lapped gently. Her entire body jerked. She had sensitive nipples and beneath his hand he felt her body shudder with pleasure. He closed his mouth around her right nipple and suckled.

Her back arched, pushing her more deeply into the heat of his mouth. Her cry was soft, her hips bucking. Both hands settled in his hair, but she didn’t push him away. Her cries were like music, a beautiful melody that sent him spiraling deeper into a fever of need. His tongue played over her nipple, stroking and flicking, before his mouth pulled t her strongly again, sending her writhing beneath him.

“Drake?” There was a soft note of fear in the midst of her drenching desire.

“You’re all right, honey. I’ve got you,” he whispered, meaning it. He would never allow anything—least of all him—to harm her in any way. “You’ll love this.”

She swallowed, subsiding on the pillow, nodding, her eyes large and brimming with gold.

Holding her gaze, he moved his attention to her left breast, tugging her nipple gently, watching the heat flare in her eyes before he lowered his mouth and lapped, just before the need to feast overtook him and he suckled like a starving man—suckled until she was writhing again and moaning almost continuously—until her fists tugged at his hair.

One hand smoothed over her belly, stroked her hip and slid briefly over her mound to feel the damp welcoming heat there. She threw her head from side to side and lifted her hips into his palm, gasping for breath. He slid one finger into all that hot honey, that sweetness he craved.

“Oh God,” she whispered, her eyes going completely gold and feral.

He bent his head and licked at her breast, watching her closely as he added a second finger in her tight channel, stretching her as gently as he could.

“Drake,” she called his name, eyes slightly shocked at the sensations pouring through her. “I need . . .” She couldn’t articulate the rest.

“Take it easy,” he soothed her. “I don’t want you hurt. We have to go slow this time. You need slow, trust me, Saria. Slow is good.”

He stroked again and, as if he’d somehow lit a torch, a flash fire raced through him like a fireball. He groaned. He wasn’t certain he could go slow, not with such a craving clawing at his belly.

“I need to taste you, Saria.” His voice was nearly a growl. Hunger was edging out sanity. He had to have her now, had to mark every inch of her with his scent. He’d never been so rock-hard in his life. He kissed his way down her body until he could kneel between her legs. She looked at him with dark, golden eyes, so wide, glazed with heat and need.

He took a breath and looked down at her body, allowing his gaze to drift slowly over her.
“Mine.”
He exhaled on the word and looped her legs over his arms, pulling her closer as he lowered his head.

She smelled wild, and his own primitive nature leapt at the challenge. Saria equaled untamed, she went her own way and didn’t make apologies for it. He heard her breath hitch and he tightened his grip on her hips in warning. She’d had her way with him and he had allowed it; he wanted the same. She was all his and he intended to indulge himself. He nuzzled her inner thighs and drank in her scent. Part cat, he needed to rub along her skin with his, to bite gently and taste, to use every tactile sense he had to stake his claim on her.

He swiped his tongue over all that heat and she bucked in his arms. “Ssh, it’s all right,” he whispered. “Relax for me.” His eyes met hers again. There was trust there. She swallowed hard but she nodded her assent.

He kissed his way back up her inner thighs, nipping gently with his teeth, letting her get used to the feel of him between her legs. Very slwly, with great tenderness, he ran his tongue over her heated center, an artist painting the gentle waves of an ocean lapping at the shore. He took his time, enjoying the tremors running through her body. Her temperature went up so that skin to skin, she radiated heat right through him.

13

SARIA knew she was drowning in desire. She felt consumed with need, with arousal. Looking at Drake, at his face, every line stamped with pure sensuality, the set of his mouth, his eyes, all carved deep with dark hunger. His eyes were all cat, staring at her as if she was prey, his gaze focused completely on her, as his hands gripped her hips tightly.

Fear skittered down her spine, yet excitement welled up like a fountain. He looked all man, a tough, scarred man at the edge of his control and knowing he was that way because of her—
for
her—was exhilarating. She wanted him to look at her like that—all hungry leopard, a man craving—
needing
her body.
Her
body.
Her
skin.
Her
.

His eyes locked with hers. Fierce. Intent. Her heart beat so hard she was afraid it would come through her chest. He licked his lips. Her heart jumped. Heavy-lidded eyes were dark gold, glittering with a harsh need.

“Give yourself to me.” Instead of harsh, his voice was oddly tender, completely at odds with the stark sensuality. “Completely to me. No one will ever need you more.”

An alarm bell went off somewhere in the back of her mind, but she was too far gone. She needed him—needed this. She couldn’t stop her body from moving suggestively, invitingly, or the soft moaning whimper that escaped her throat as she nodded. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t form a coherent word.

His hands tightened on her hips. With her legs draped over his forearms, she was completely open to him. He kept watching her face even as he slowly lowered his head toward her burning center. She felt tears stinging. How could she ever survive? Her body was on fire, tension building until she wanted to beg him to stop it, to do something—anything.

She felt his tongue lap at her, a dark rasp that sent a million electrical currents racing through her body. He groaned and shifted just a little, pressing more deeply into her. She heard herself cry out, a strangled sound lost in her own ragged breathing. She clenched the comforter with both fists, trying to hang on to something solid, to anchor herself as he began to eat her—to devour her. He took his time, licking, sucking, painting circles and letters with his tongue until she realized he was actually writing his name inside of her.