Page 25 of The Witch & the Tiger

“They won’t be back for a few hours yet. Neither will my sister.” Was she implying what he thought she was implying?

He didn’t want to say it out loud, in case it sounded foolish or was too far off from her intentions.

He led the way to his house, excited, nervous, and struggling not to get too excited again. Every time he tried to banish the thought from his mind; however, it insisted on coming back, more powerful and intense than before.

Willow could’ve commented, could’ve chosen to tease him, but instead, she remained silent and smiling, and he loved her a little for that.

Inside the house, the first thing he wanted to do was offer her tea or coffee like any normal guest of the house.

Willow didn’t have the patience for that. She tugged at his hand, demanded to know where the bedroom was, and dragged him to it.

“Willow, are you sure? We don’t have to rush into things if you don’t –” His words were cut off by her lips once more. She grabbed hold of him hard, their bodies latching together as if glued. He gasped at the attack, staggered backward, and the back of his legs bumped into the bedframe, and he sat down hard. She straddled him, and having her legs on either side of him made his hands tremble, and the ache between his legs increase.

His pulse pounded faster, echoing in his ears, and it felt as if his heart thumped against his ribcage, looking for a way out.

“I don’t know why,” she whispered against his lips, “but it really turns me on to know I have that effect on you.”

Holy crap.

Yeah, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. With her positioned on his lap, there was no way she didn’t feel him hardening. “Willow,” he growled, half wanting to calm her down, half wondering if everything he did affected her. When she let out a moan, he repeated her name, and she tilted her head back, giving him full access to her chest.

He didn’t want to go straight there, however. No. He wanted to cherish, to savor everything, and he tilted her neck toward his mouth so his breath danced a fiery trail over the delicate skin.

Desire whipped like a whirlwind around them, stripping away all sense of reason and good, calm words. Just the heat of the moment mattered, the momentum of the pleasure and arousal, and their hands clumsily went to one another’s clothes. Willow ground against him with a small whimper that ignited his brain, and it flipped a primal switch within him.

An aspect of the predator took over as he stood up, flipped her onto the bed, and crawled over her. Staking his claim. He sniffed at her neck and nipped at her ear before licking and sucking at the pulse point on her neck, galvanized by the sounds she made, the gasps and moans, and sobbing whimpers.

He moved his hips as well back and forth, and her legs wrapped around him, seeking even closer contact.

Holy crap!

“Willow,” he gasped, pushing up so that his arms were `straight at her side. “Wait, hang on. This is going fast. We can slow down if you want. There’s really no rush.”

“I want you,” she said, and the words stabbed deep, hitting the beast within that wanted nothing more than to claim her and make her his.

It seemed the condoms might be needed, after all.

Jesus! I didn’t expect her to be so eager!

Not that he was complaining. It was just… a part of him thought men wanted this more than women did.

How wrong was that thinking? They tore at their clothes, ridding each other of every last scrap, not caring where exactly they flung them.

“Please,” she whimpered when they were fully naked. Her hands ran over him, from chin to chest, gliding over his own nipples, down to briefly touch his hardness.

“A moment,” he assured her, reaching over for the condoms. “If you can’t wait, touch yourself.”

She seemed to enjoy the instruction, already using her own hands now to glide over her breasts, down between her thighs, and he growled quietly to witness the decadent act.

“Already so wet…” With the condom on, he wasted little time in positioning himself, though he let her continue to self-pleasure, just watching it with hunger and lust.

“Please,” she whimpered once again, and he took that as an invitation. Sliding inside her unlocked a whole new avalanche of pleasure, of watching how her body stiffened before accepting him, how her hands gripped him tightly, and their eyes locked together and stayed that way as he began to move.

The warmth radiated all along his length, and he ached all around, feeling the pressure building and building, the heat intensifying. She gasped and writhed beneath him, barely able to string coherent words together, nails digging into his back hard enough to leave marks.

Sweat coated his forehead and skin as he worked hard, intent on driving them both to a pleasant destination, but without slowing down to do so. He eased himself out of her when he felt he was close, now using fingers to stroke her on her most sensitive part once he located it in the slick wetness. Her moans grew louder, her mouth opened, her head tilted back, and her legs began to shake.

Her body arched beneath him, still shaking, and he resumed the thrusts, taking them both together into climax, letting that sweet warmth and ecstasy swamp over. He envied her being a woman in that sensation, as it seemed to affect her entire body and leave her bereft of the ability to speak.

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