dirty from years of use, was in front of the table. He lit that, too.
His clothes dripped water all over the floor, droplets running down his face, and when he came to stand between my legs, one of them landed on my chest, shimmering like a diamond in the glow of the soft flames. My neck burned—my heart on fire—from the desire in my veins.
He ran a finger up my arm, over my shoulder, along my neck, and then down between my breasts, before he circled my nipples, watching the entire time. “You burn for me everywhere I touch you,” he whispered.
I reached out for him, lifting the soaked shirt over his arms, over his cap, and then flung it to the floor. He kicked his boots off and unbuttoned his pants. Using my feet, I shoved them down his legs, watching as he stood before me in nothing but the cap.
“Fuck me,” I pleaded. “Please.”
“First.” He reached out and slipped the pants from my legs. His bicep bunched and his back muscles rippled as he turned to throw my pants into the pile with his shirt. “Dinner.”
“I’m not fucking hungry,” I snapped. Not for food. His shoulders were wide, strong, and I wanted to sink my teeth deep into his skin.
“I’m fucking starving,” he said, and with a hand to my chest, pushed me back onto the table.
His fingers trailed up my left leg, and I moved a little for him so he could unfasten the bodysuit. Before he did, he ran his fingers back and forth, back and forth, teasing me. My entire body felt tense, ready to go off, and I almost did when I heard the sound of a snap releasing and felt a breath of fresh air between my legs.
“Soaked,” he said, his voice low and rough. His fingers moved, a caressing brush, and then slid between my folds. My breaths came faster, the trembling coming harder. My legs parted even wider as a finger slid inside and his mouth came against me. My back arched off the table, my ass sliding down even further, wanting to be as close to his tongue as possible.
He devoured me like a man who hadn’t eaten dinner in a long time, and I came like a woman who hadn’t felt his touch in forever.
“Cash!” I screamed out, my thighs snapping shut when my orgasm tore through me, even wilder than the storm outside.
Wind howled and rain battered. Every so often the house would be lit with a shock of lightning, and I could see the pure desire in my tiger’s eyes. When a roar of thunder would rattle the walls, it seemed to echo the sound of his pounding heart, as if he were on the hunt.
Forget what he looked like. That’s what he felt like to me—a dangerous animal.
I was still riding the high when he entered me in a thrust so brutal that my eyes sprang open, a hiss escaped my lips, and my claws came out, sinking deep into his back.
“There she is,” he said, looking down on me with hooded eyes. “Mark me even deeper.”
I tore into his skin as I lifted myself up, meeting him thrust for thrust, the size of him stretching my walls until pleasure clashed with pain. “Oh fuck!” I screamed out. “Oh fuck! Yes!”
I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he lifted me up, our bodies moving together as he carried us toward another room. His back hit a wall first, though, and then he turned us, so that the face of the cold stone touched my skin. The wall was jagged, and as he pumped into me, faster, harder, it left lines of fire down my back.
He was fucking me so hard that my breasts spilled out of the bodysuit from impact and jiggled every time he made the full connection.
Then we were moving again, and after he shoved open a door on the lower floor, he set me down on the bed in the room. He felt around until he hit something solid. I heard a drawer open, a matchstick catch, and then a tiny flame came out of the darkness, lighting up his face. He lit a long taper candle and then blew out the matchstick.
His eyes journeyed over my body as the flame brought me to life. His eyes lowered to almost closed when he found my eyes. He looked higher than he had the night out on the fire escape. “My tigress,” he