She stands, chair scraping against the floor. "Your mate. You keep using that word but then don't go farther. So why is it you keep denying what you clearly want? Why not talk to me about what I might want? What I'm feeling... what you're feeling."
There's no avoiding this now. "It's instinct... a recognition. From the moment I saw you, I knew. You were my mate, the one fated to be with me. Instant. Absolute. I didn't choose it, didn't go looking for it. It just is."
"Was I supposed to feel it?" Her pulse jumps at her throat, visible despite her controlled voice.
"Rarely. Humans have lost that ability. You might have felt something, but not know what it was." I close the distance between us, breathing in her scent. "The bond demands I claimyou, transform you, bind you to me permanently. My tiger wants to complete it every time I touch you."
"But you don't. Why?"
"Because I don't think you fully grasp what it would mean."
"Then explain it to me."
"If I claim you, you will no longer be human. My DNA will overwrite yours, and you will become a tiger-shifter, permanently. You'd gain strength, speed, healing. You'd also gain all the predatory instincts that I possess."
"You're afraid of passing those along to me?" She steps into my space, her warmth radiating against my skin.
"Yes." Lying now would be pointless when she's already seen me kill. "I've tortured people for information. I've executed threats without hesitation. I've stood aside while innocents suffered because maintaining cover mattered more than one life. That's what you'd become. Someone who makes those choices without flinching."
"You think I don't already make them?" Her palm presses against my chest, right over my heart. "I was there that night knowing it was illegal. I documented evidence while people died. The line you're afraid of crossing? I'm already standing on the other side."
My hand slides into her hair, fingers threading through the strands. "You're standing on the edge. There's a difference between one night and a lifetime of it."
"Good." Her eyes hold mine without flinching. "Because I'm tired of following rules that protect monsters. I need to be strong enough to fight beside you." Her hands slide up my chest, fingers curling into my shirt. "I want you. All of you."
My mouth crashes against hers. We've done this before at my cottage, but this is different. This time she's asking for the bite that will rewrite everything she is.
She bites my lower lip hard enough to draw blood, then licks it away while her nails rake down my back. The pain sharpens into pleasure.
I tear her shirt over her head. She attacks my belt, gets it open, shoves my jeans and boxers down in one motion. Her hand wraps around my cock and I groan, hips jerking into her grip.
I lift her. She's already wrapping her legs around my waist, grinding against me, creating friction that makes us both gasp. Her mouth finds my throat, teeth scraping over my pulse point, nipping hard enough to leave marks.
The bedroom door slams behind us. I press her against it hard enough that wood creaks, my cock trapped between our bodies. She reaches between us, guides me to her entrance. Already wet. Already ready.
"Do it." Her voice is rough, demanding. "Stop hesitating and fuck me."
I thrust into her. She gasps, nails raking down my back, drawing blood. Her hips roll, taking me deeper, meeting my rhythm.
This is what she wants. What we both need. Not gentle lovemaking but raw fucking that acknowledges what we are—predator and prey, shifter and human, criminal and cop all tangled together until the lines blur.
She meets every thrust, rolling her hips, taking me deeper. Her teeth find my shoulder and bite down hard. Blood fills her mouth and she doesn't pull away, just bites harder, marking me the way I'm about to mark her.
"Bed." She gasps it against my throat. "Need more room for this."
I carry her the three steps to the bed, still buried inside her. Teeth scrape down her throat to her collarbone, finding sensitiveskin that makes her arch and clench around me. She tangles her hands in my hair, pulling hard enough to hurt.
I pull out despite her protest and she whimpers at the loss. But then I'm flipping her onto her stomach, pulling her hips up, and she understands. Pushes up onto her hands and knees without me having to ask.
This position. The one for claiming.
I enter her from behind, deeper this time, the angle letting me hit places that make her gasp and shake. My hand slides up her spine to the base of her skull, fingers tangling in her hair. The other grips her hip as I start moving, harder now, faster, building toward the moment where instinct will demand I complete this.
She pushes back to meet every thrust, taking everything I give her and demanding more. Sweat slicks our skin. The sound of flesh meeting flesh fills the room along with our breathing, ragged and desperate.
"Do it." Her voice is raw. "Claim me."
My hand tightens in her hair, pushing her head down, exposing the vulnerable line of her nape. The place where one bite would transform her, bind us permanently, make her a tiger.
