The Dark-Hunters (316 page)

And yet she fascinated him as she drove him to her small cottage by the zoo. All he wanted was to curl up in her lap and purr. Something that didn’t make sense, since what he normally wanted was to rip the arm off anyone dumb enough to come near him.

She kept glancing over at him and gifting him with the sweetest little shy smile that he’d ever seen on a woman’s face. But even worse on his self-restraint was the desire he felt from her. She was as hungry for him as he was for her, and it was making him feral.

The cat in him wanted to snarl and to stalk.

More than that, it wanted to mate.

By the time she pulled into her driveway, his entire body was throbbing. Alert.

And it wanted her with a ferocity that scared the shit out of him. There was no way he could leave her until he had tasted her.

Marguerite opened her car door and got out. Wren was there on her side of the car before she’d even had a chance to pull her book bag out.

“I’ll carry it,” he said quietly.

He’d moved so fast that it was practically inhuman.…

Nodding, she reached in to get her flowers and chocolate to carry them into her house. Wren followed her to the stoop, then stood back while she unlocked her door and let them in.

She went to set the flowers down on her end table. Before she could even straighten up, he was behind her. He buried his face into her hair and inhaled deeply as if he were savoring her. She’d never felt anything like it. She could feel his entire length against her back. Marguerite actually shivered at the sensualness of that action.

She found herself leaning back against him as his arms came around her to hold her close. In this position, she could feel his erection plainly against her hip. Wren was a large man, powerful.

“You smell good enough to eat,” he whispered against her ear.

Marguerite couldn’t answer, as her entire body burned from his presence. She laid her hands against his forearms and traced the jungle scene tattoo of a white tiger lurking in tall grass that ran the length of Wren’s left one. There was so much strength and power in his arms that it made her feel weak. Trembling. She’d never known any man to make her feel like this.

He turned her in his arms so that she was facing him. His pale turquoise eyes were hot and electrifying. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her fiercely.

Marguerite held him to her as every hormone in her body sizzled. Never in her life had she been more aroused. More aware of any man. His tongue spiked against hers as he pressed her even closer to his lean, hard body. Her hardened nipples brushed against his chest, making her moan from the contact and from the insatiable desire to touch him without their clothes separating them.

She’d never been the kind of woman to hop into bed with a guy she’d just met. In fact, she’d only known two other lovers in her life. One had been a friend her first year of college and the other had been a guy she’d dated for a little over a year. Those times had been pleasant enough but never stellar.

The men hadn’t made her feel like this … made her feel like she would die if she didn’t touch them. Made her burn in pleasure of the thought of having them inside her.

But Wren did.

Her breasts were heavy and aching. Her breath ragged as it mingled with his while they kissed.

He lifted the hem of her skirt up slowly, so slowly that the expectation was almost painful. She groaned at the feel of his callused hands on her bare skin. At the sensation of the heat of his skin mixed with the cool air as he caressed her with firm, confident hands. It was the most erotic moment of her life. She was already wet and throbbing, needing to feel even more of him. It was all she could do not to beg him to have mercy on her.

Wren explored her mouth, wanting to taste more of her. He’d never felt hunger like this. Needful. Throbbing. Demanding. He closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of her as he lifted her skirt even more so that he could feel the softness of her thighs. She was a warm, perfect heaven.

He’d never touched a woman before, at least not like this, and he was beginning to understand why as the animal inside him roared with ferocity. It was a dangerous beast that wanted to devour her. It roared and clawed, wanting freedom.

Wanting her.

Raw possessiveness swelled up inside him with a stunning ferocity. He finally understood why animals killed those who came near their territory. If anyone else ever touched her …

Wren would rip them to shreds.

He left her lips and buried his mouth against her throat where he felt her heartbeat pounding. Licking and teasing her soft skin, he slowly slid his hand down underneath the waistband of her dark blue panties. He half-expected her to stop him, but she didn’t. Instead, she parted her legs more, giving him access to the part of her that he craved as she held on to his shoulders.

Oh yeah, this was what he needed. He felt her shiver as he stroked her with a tenderness he’d never known he possessed. If anyone had ever told him that he could hold a woman and not hurt her, he would have laughed at them, and yet he was gently holding Maggie.

No, he was making love to her. It was a human term that he’d never understood until this moment. But even more surprising was the fact that he was enjoying it so much.

Her short, crisp hairs brushed his fingers as he sank his hand down farther, seeking her. He separated the tender folds of her body until he could touch the part of her that he needed most. He closed his eyes and trembled as he sank one long finger deep inside her.

She jumped and moaned against his lips.

Wren growled in triumph as he stroked her. She was so wet. So soft. Her murmurs filled his ears, making him even harder for her.

Marguerite couldn’t think as he tormented her with his touch. And when he sank another long, tanned finger deep inside her, she feared her knees would buckle.

“I have to have you, Maggie,” he whispered gruffly in her ear.

She answered him by unbuttoning his shirt so that she could feel all that lush, beautiful skin. She hesitated as she saw the bandage still on his shoulder from where he’d protected her. A foreign tenderness went through her an instant before she claimed his lips again.

Marguerite stripped his clothes from him feverishly, wanting to see all of him. Wanting to feel him deep inside her. She’d never wanted anything more desperately.

She had to have him. It was like a madness that she’d never felt before.

They didn’t even make it to her bedroom. Instead, they sank to the floor where they were.

Marguerite hissed as Wren unbuttoned her shirt, then nuzzled her small breast with his entire face. Always self-conscious in the past about her cup size, she felt none of that now. How could she when he seemed to savor her body so much? He rubbed himself against her breast from chin to brow several times before he gave her one long, wicked lick to her swollen nipple.

She shivered. “What are you doing?”

He hovered just over her other breast as he blew one teasing, hot breath over the taut peak. His blue eyes bored into hers. “I want your scent all over me. I want to smell your skin until I’m drunk with it.”

She moaned as he repeated those actions on her right breast while her body throbbed with needful hunger. How strange to be so at ease with her body … with his touch. She wasn’t nervous or hesitant in the least. All she wanted was Wren.

His tongue was rough against her skin, and every lick made her stomach flutter in response. He removed her blouse and skirt entirely. And when he pulled her panties off with his teeth, she almost came from the sheer pleasure of it.

He took his time with her. Slowly, methodically, he nibbled every inch of her skin from her foot to her thigh. It was as if he’d never tasted a woman before. As if he wanted to claim every little molecule of her body.

And he was doing a damned good job of it. That man could lick like nobody’s business.

Wren paused to look at her. He nudged her thighs farther apart so that he could brush his fingers over her wet cleft and stare in wonderment of her body. It was so very different from his own. Soft and inviting.

So this was what it was like to touch a woman.…

He ground his teeth as he brushed his hand over her mons. Not even his dreams could compare to the reality. His hunger overwhelming him, he sank two fingers inside her and watched as she shuddered in response.

She was more than ready for him.

But he didn’t want to take her like a human male. He wanted to claim her like the animal that he was. Tigers played with their mates.…

Marguerite whimpered as Wren withdrew from her. “What are you doing?” she asked as he picked her up.

“I’m making love to you, Maggie,” he breathed in her ear as he pulled her back to his front.

Marguerite wasn’t sure what he was doing as he lay back on the floor with her on top of him. It was so strange to be lying fully against his naked body like this. She could feel his chest against her shoulders. His thighs behind her buttocks as he hooked his ankles with hers and spread her legs wide.

“Wren…” Her words ended in a small cry as he entered her from behind. She hissed at the width and depth of him finally inside her. He was a large man who filled her completely.

She leaned her head back against his shoulder as he began to slowly thrust himself deeper into her body. She’d never felt more exposed in her life. And yet it was wildly erotic.

He cupped her breasts as he continued to thrust himself into her over and over again with a feverish rhythm that tore her apart with pleasure.

He took her hand into his, then led it down to her spread thighs so that she could feel them joined.

“Touch me, Maggie,” he growled. “I want you to feel me take you.”

How could she not? He was so hard and thick inside her. So powerful.

He left her hand on him and moved his up so that he could stroke her in time to his thrusts.

Marguerite’s head spun as pleasure pounded through her. This was the most incredible moment of her life. It didn’t feel like just a physical act, she felt connected somehow with Wren. Like she was giving him something he couldn’t get from anyone else. It didn’t make sense, but that was what she felt with him.

Wren couldn’t breathe as he felt her sleek, hot wetness surrounding him. All he wanted was to be inside his Maggie. To hear her scream out in ultimate pleasure and know that he was the one who gave it to her. He moved faster, grinding himself against her as he carefully buried his teeth against the back of her neck.

She threw her head back and cried out as she shuddered in his arms.

He laughed in triumph as she came for him. But then his own laughter died as he, too, climaxed.

He tightened his arms around her as he felt his body shuddering inside hers. He’d never known anything like this.

His head swimming, he lay back against the floor and reveled in her slight weight above him. He wanted to stay inside her forever. But all too soon his body withdrew from hers.

Marguerite slid off him, then turned to face him. “That was incredible.”

He smiled up at her, then lifted her hand to his lips so that he could gently suckle her fingers. “I love the way you taste, Maggie.”

Her heart pounded.

She watched as he laved her palm.

“I’ve never touched a woman before you,” he said, his eyes burning into hers.

“What?”

He sat up to nuzzle her neck. “You heard me, my sweet Maggie. You’re the only woman I’ve ever taken.”

Could he be serious? “How could you be a virgin and make love to me like that?”

He smiled at her. “Animal instinct.”

She arched a brow, especially as her gaze dropped and she realized he was already hard again. “Wren?”

But he wasn’t listening. He laid her back against the floor and placed his body between her thighs. “Show me how a human male loves his woman, Maggie. I want to know what it’s like to have you under me.”

She frowned at his words until he entered her again with a hard thrust that set her on fire. Marguerite sighed in satisfaction as she cupped his buttocks in her hands. “How can you be hard again?”

He nibbled her jaw. “I have a lot to make up for.”

And in the next few hours, he certainly did.

*   *   *

Wren lay snuggled with Maggie, his heart pounding. The scent of her filled his head, making him want to stay here like this forever. He was spooned up behind her while she napped in his arms. He was tired, too, but to sleep would cause him to shift to his natural beastly form.

The last thing he needed was for her to learn what he was. No doubt she would be terrified to find out she was sleeping with a tigard.

Closing his eyes, he savored the feel of her soft buttocks against his loins. Her hair tickled his lips.

For the first time in his adulthood, he almost wished he could mate. But he knew better. He was the last of his line. At least on his mother’s side.

On his father’s …

No self-respecting tiger would ever touch him. He was an abomination to them. It was bad enough to be a hybrid, but to be a white tiger was considered the worst kind of deformity among his people.

He could never belong in the Katagaria world any more than he belonged in the human.

He was alone. There was nothing he could do about it. It was the curse of his breed, and it was one he’d resigned himself to a long time ago.

Sighing, he reluctantly withdrew from the only woman he’d most likely ever know. He paused long enough to kiss her cheek.

It was best to leave her and to never look back. He now knew what he was missing. He’d tasted her once … well, okay, it’d been a lot more than once. But that would be enough. It was time to leave her to her world while he went back to his own.

Marguerite felt the dip in the bed as Wren left her. Opening her eyes, she watched as he bent over to pick up the towel she had dropped this morning in her rush to get to class.

Goodness, he had the best backside she’d ever seen on a man.

“Are you leaving?” she asked.

He straightened up to look at her. “I need to get to work.”

She laughed at the thought of a man with his kind of money worried about getting to a minimum-wage job on time. “Why don’t you call in sick?”