Page 14 of Loving the Lion

His body—his dick—was hard as steel. He wanted more. Wanted it all.

His palms itched to explore every soft hill and valley of her curvy body. To spread those rounded legs and see the center of her, hot, pink and glistening, just waiting for his mouth to suck the nectar from her depths. He’d never wanted anything, anyone more. His cat was positive this woman was meant to be their mate, and the man was fast succumbing to the same belief.

Willpower left him faster than a dust storm rose in the desert. Frantic animal passion took over. Barely aware of his movements, the finesse and skill as a lover he’d acquired over the years left him under the eager touch of his mate. Bachar could only feel. Only touch.

He drug her to him, her full breasts pressing against his chest. Hungry. He was so hungry. For her touch, taste, scent. He pulled back and barked out an order guaranteed to make them both go up in flames. “Strip.”

He saw the fear flare in the depths of her beautiful brown eye but didn’t back down. “You need to learn how to please a man. To please me.”

She stood proud and tall before him, but still, she hesitated. He watched as she bit her lip, wondering if he was pushing her too far, too fast. She placed her hand on her throat.

“Sally,” he began. The urge to have her was so great he could barely control it.

“How do I know?”

He reached out, cupping the side of her face. “Know what?”

“That you really want me.”

Anger and jealousy warred with the need to banish the look on her face. “I do not know what you have experienced in your past with men.” He placed a finger against her lips when she started to answer. “Nor, do I want to. But I can assure you there is basically only one emotion within me at the moment. Want. I want you, Sally Wilder, never doubt that.” He knew he’d lied the moment he spoke the words, but didn’t retract them. There was so much more to what he was feeling than simple want.

He caught her hand and dragged it below his waist. Roughly, he wrapped her fingers around his rock-hard erection. He groaned as all thoughts fled his mind. Her hand squeezed, and he was barely aware of lifting the hem of her shirt and removing it. She wore no bra and the sight of her breasts had his beast clawing for control. The knowledge that she was bare and free beneath the soft cotton fabric had pushed at his control all evening. Now, there was no need to hold back.

He filled his hand with her full, rounded flesh, his mouth finding the rosy tip of one pebbled nipple. He sucked the succulent treat deep inside his mouth, mashing it against the roof. Oh, how he wanted her. Needed her as much as he needed the next breath he took. She gasped at his love play, her hand clenching around his pulsating cock. Bachar almost came right there, his control little more than a boy’s.

Needing her now, desperate to bury himself in her warm, wet depths, he picked her up and carried her to the raised platform bed he’d had installed. He knew she would not believe it if he told her she was the first woman he had taken to his bed here in this suite. Usually, he joined his lovers in their room at the hotel. This, this was his sanctuary.

In spite of the lust running hotly through his veins, Bachar held tight to his control, determined to make this, their first joining, nothing but gentle. His little dove was as innocent as the day was long. She tasted sweet, like ripe berries. She tasted… like his.

She lay beneath his mouth, her lips softening, yielding, but not returning the sweet passion.

“Kiss me back,” he demanded.

“I am.”

He pulled back until he could see her gaze. “You have much to learn about kissing, Miss Wilder.”

She smiled, her pretty mouth curving up on the ends. “Yes, I suppose I do. What are you going to do about it?”

“Teach you, of course.”

His instincts were telling him to give into his cravings, show her the dominant predator that lived within and claim her—now, here, and as fast as possible. If he did, it would be with little finesse, and that would harm her. Inside her beautiful, curvy body, he had already sensed the hurt that she had suffered from other males. Males that were stupid and weak and took their own insecurities out on women who didn’t know how to stand up for themselves.

His cat growled and he realized he needed to calm down. While he couldn’t prevent the hurt she had already experienced, he could make sure she never suffered any from this day forward.

Because from this day forward she was his. One hundred percent. No negotiations, no turning back. His mate. His to love. Forever.

He pulled her into his arms and bent his head once again. This time, his lips landed on the soft flesh of her throat. “This is for you. For us.” He punctuated his words with soft, suckling kisses. “Tonight is ours.”

He ran his fingertip from the rapid pulse in her neck down over the curve of her breast and then circled one hard bud. “You are so responsive.” He traced his fingertip across her chest to her other breast, giving it the same torturous caresses. “You excite me until I ache. Until my lion is roaring inside me to take you.”

“I ache too,” she whispered.

One dark brow rose at her shy confession. “Indeed? And what would you have me do, little one?”

She tightened her grip on his shoulders. “Make it go away. Please, Bachar.”

“Your wish is my demand.”