Pulling in a breath, Maeve watched as her knuckle brushed against that one enticing tuft of fur that always spilled over his shirt.
“So you’re scared of your beast? Of how it feels?” she said, although it wasn’t an accusation.
“Of course I am,” he groaned, even as his hand came to cover hers on his chest. “Alukanis to be more than feared—it’s to be reviled. Kept away from civilized people. Alukanis a true beast, one that is instinct and hunger only. I want to be far more than that.”
“Is it yourturukthat dislikes me, then?” Fates, when had her voice gone so breathy?
“Oh, no,” he purred. His hand left hers, a travesty, but moved instead to cup her cheek in that warm palm, his claws sliding through her hair. It would have been a sweet touch, except for how his claws clung to her in a proprietary hold. “The beast likes you far, far too much.”
“Does it now?” Somewhere far away, she heard the lantern fall to the ground. All that mattered was she had both hands to sweep up the epic expanse of his rumbling chest.
Stepping closer, Soren’s hand came around her waist, pulling the bodies together. She didn’t know if he knew he did it, but she also didn’t really care.
The gloaming swam around them in purples and dusky blues;calm, soothing colors in stark contrast with the heated things dominating Maeve’s mind. His body heat seared her from chest to knee, and her fingers twitched to explore and pet the fur on his chest. Would it be soft? What about his mane?
A craving so strong it almost hurt clutched her middle. Fates, she needed to touch him.
Another rumbling purr shook them both, stealing Maeve’s breath in a pleased gasp. Her lips tingled for want of feeling it vibrate against them. Would it if they kissed? Did manticores kiss?
“Theturukis possessive and greedy. He wants you.” The fingers at her waist clenched, pricking his claws against her back. “He’d devour you whole.”
If he kept looking at her like that, Maeve might just let him.
“And what about you? What about the man?”
“Only a fool wouldn’t want you, Maeve. And I’m not a fool.”
“Tell me.” She wanted the words, directly.
A puff of warm breath cascaded across her cheeks. His forehead dropped to lay against hers as he said, “I fear I…I’ll lose control.”
“You wouldn’t hurt me.” Maeve knew it as surely as the backs of her hands. Soren was too gentle, too kind.
“Never,” he growled, “but theturuk…I’ve worked my whole life to control him. But just a glimpse of you, the smell of your hair…” His purr somehow deepened into something even richer, even darker. “You test my control.”
The quiet night opened up around them, and Maeve reclaimed a clarity she’d been looking for. He might be feeling out of control, but with his admission, she suddenly felt back in control. And she loved it.
Smiling up at him, she whispered, “Come with me.”
She kept his stunned gaze as she drew him off the path and into the trees. Not far, just a few trees back within the forest, butout of the possibility of prying eyes. Maeve was many things, but an exhibitionist wasn’t one of them.
A dominant lover, though—absolutely.
She felt how her lips curled seductively, and although little light penetrated the trees, she watched his pupils dilate with gratification. Those predator’s eyes snagged on her lips, and Maeve ran her tongue over the bottom one.
“Have you really never imagined being with a mate? What their touch would feel like?” Her hands slowly slid up and down his chest before a few fingers strayed to his throat. His fur was indeed soft, and the vibration of his purr here was especially strong.
“I couldn’t let myself,” he said, his voice sounding almost strangled.
So tragically noble. This man, always sacrificing, always trying to do the right thing. Tonight, Maeve wanted to see what would happen if that good, honorable man cracked. Just a little.
She wanted to make him as messy as he’d made her.
Maeve took her time trailing her right hand down his front, enjoying every contour and muscle she found. His breathing became quick, and under her other hand, she felt how his shoulders tensed as he waited to feel her next touch.
It wasn’t until she reached his belt that he seemed to realize where she aimed.
“Maeve,” he warned, his tail lashing the ground.
