Page 231 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 5-8

There was a dark flush to his cheekbones and as she met his gaze, her belly tightened, then tightened again as he leaned in and fitted his mouth to hers, one hand cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing the skin there, his tongue, teasing her, stirring her senses. Making a kiss into something more than a kiss. Making it into a promise, a contract without words, that he was going to unravel her.

Heat flared inside her and she tried to deepen the kiss but he pulled back, tipped back her head to stare into her eyes.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he murmured, and, reaching up, he touched her mouth gently and she tensed for a different reason. But then he moved his thumb away and brushed his lips against hers, calming her.

‘You’re exquisite.’ His hand slid down over her collarbone to cup her breast and her nipples tightened as he caressed first one then the other, lightly, before reaching round to expertly undo her bra. No one had ever touched her like this. No one had ever made her feel so hungry and uninhibited, so confident of her power to arouse, to take, to pleasure.

She sucked in a breath as he pushed her panties down over her thighs and stepped back, and she had to stop herself from crying out as the seconds ticked by and his gaze grew harder and hotter. And then he touched her lightly between the thighs and she moaned softly, her body instantly hot and tight and aching and damp for him.

Her hands fluttered down his torso to find his hands and then she lifted them up to cup her breasts. He sucked in a breath and now he lifted his mouth from her throat and she saw that he was fighting for control.

Yes, she thought.

She pushed him backwards, and he let her, bracing himself with his elbows as she dropped onto her knees. Her head was spinning. She had never wanted to do this with Noah. But the desire to taste Tiger, to give him pleasure in the same way that he had given her pleasure, was irresistible and, dipping her head, she flicked her tongue over the blunted tip, her hand wrapping around the length of him, and she took him in her mouth.

His hips jerked and he groaned, her clumsiness and lack of expertise no obstacle to his pleasure. Quite the contrary, she thought, his lack of control evident from the uncoordinated twitches of his body.

‘Sydney.’ He breathed out her name, his hand moving through her hair to still her, and she eased back and he pulled her onto the bed. Leaning back against the pillow, he put his hands on her hips and lifted her onto his lap and slid into her smoothly.

She moaned softly and he leaned forward, his mouth closing over her nipple, and she arched against him, shuddering, her hands gripping the muscles of his arm.

He pulled back then, his golden gaze dark and narrowed. ‘Let me watch you,’ he whispered and the hoarseness in his voice kicked up sparks inside her and she rolled her hips against his.

His face was taut with concentration, the muscles in his chest and arms bunching as his dark gold gaze held her and he began to rock his hips, one hand fitting into the indent at the base of her back, the other stroking her clitoris with his thumb.

She pressed against him, panting, chasing the flickering heat that was just out of reach and then he thrust upwards, driving into her and now she was trying to grip him, to hold him, to hold back but she couldn’t.

Her body tensed, muscles tightening and tightening and tightening, in wave after wave, and he pulled her closer, burying his face against her throat as his body spasmed to a juddering climax.

A washed-out primrose light was seeping through the open shutters when Sydney blinked her eyes open. For a moment, she didn’t recognise the room, then she felt the warmth of Tiger’s body beside her and she remembered.

She remembered all of it.

Could see his body, so big and hard, moving inside her with shattering slowness. See herself, back arched like a bow, a creature of need and impulse, hardly human and yet all woman. The kind of woman she had always wanted to be. Powerful. Certain. Uninhibited and unafraid to be vulnerable.

It was different from the first time. Then their need for one another had been driven by frustration and a need to purge the jangling, seductive thing that had swirled around them.

Last night, this morning, was about desire and pleasure. Taking it and giving it. Because now she knew what desire looked like, what it felt like and tasted like. And she had wanted to feast on him, to lick every inch of his skin, to give him pleasure in the same way that he had pleasured her.

Now, though, it was time to leave. To give him space. And one less reason to regret what had happened?

Her limbs stiffened, her body protesting silently because she didn’t want to leave the gravitational pull of his heat and his strength, and his gentleness. Remembering how lightly he had used his strength, she pressed her thighs together around the softness there and for a moment she let the feeling of being close to someone and not having to wonder if the hand clasping her waist would be tightening painfully around her wrist at any moment wash over her. She could enjoy the dizzying, unthinkable freedom of being in this space, with this man.

It was an astonishing sensation. But then it had been an astonishing, transformative night.

Tiger was a generous, intuitive, expert lover and being with him was revelatory. But it was more than knowing where and how to touch. Whatever was happening, however lost he was in his own ecstasy, she had sensed that a part of him was always tuned into her heartbeat and her breath almost as if they were joined by a thread.

Last night was about more than sex. They had fought and then they had talked. Tiger had talked about his father and his disastrous failed friendship with Harris Carver and she could see why he lived as he did, never letting anyone get close, choosing instead to walk by his ‘wild lone’.

The people he had trusted had hurt him, betrayed his trust, made him feel vulnerable and powerless. No wonder he had decided that he wanted out. It was easier that way. And by easier he meant safer.

Suddenly it was hard to swallow past the lump in her throat. It was such a small ask. To feel safe. To be safe. Even for someone as rich and successful as Tiger, a life without safety meant a life not fully lived. A part of you was always curtailed by fear. Fear of failure. Fear of being hurt.

She hated that he had been hurt, was still hurting, and suddenly it was impossible not to reach out and touch his beautiful, sculpted face.

It seemed incredible to her now that back in New York she would have done anything to get out of being here with him. But it was going to end, and sooner rather than later. Much better to face that now while he slept. To draw a line now, rather than have it drawn for her as had happened so many times in the past. But also, because she was starting to care about him, and maybe she couldn’t stop how she was feeling, but she didn’t need to let it go any further.

Because last night had also been about reclaiming her power: the power to arouse; the power to act on her desire...and the power to leave.

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