She couldn’t control herself. She wanted to rub her entire body along his. To feel every inch of his heavily muscled frame under her fingernails, her mouth, her sex.
Yes, yes, yes! Violet wanted him with something akin to violence.
She wanted to devour him with her mouth, like she was currently doing. Sucking on his tongue only made her long for that big, hard cock she knew he possessed between his thick, muscular thighs.
That deliciously hard appendage pulsed and throbbed beneath her and she pressed herself more fully against him, damning the jeans that separated them. Fucking hell, she was grinding herself on him like a cat in heat, but he didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he seemed to like it.
His python-like arms held her tightly as he angled her head to have better access to her mouth.
Fucking hell, he kissed like a god. Of course, he did, he looked like one for Pete’s sake! Their tongues twisted and tangled together. Every moan, grunt, and growl propelled her further into passion and she pulled on his hair, demanding more, wanting all of him.
Violet tasted every sweet nuance of his own personal flavors during their shared kiss and not just the hint of chocolate and rum from the cocoa he’d obviously sipped. No, she tasted him down to his pine scented, snow fresh core. That essence that was so uniquely his, and so perfectly suited to her.
Mine, growled the voice again and Violet moaned, pushing against his chest in horror as she realized she’d just jumped the guy.
“What the hell is going on?” she yelled, slapping a hand over her mouth and backing off of him until her ass hit the floor and her back leaned against the bottom of the sofa.
“There is something growling around in my head and so help me, I want to rip your clothes off and have sex with you right on this floor, but that is so not me. Now, did you spike the food? Did you roofie me? Please tell me what the hell is happening?” she demanded.
“Okay, okay. Easy, we can talk,” he said sitting up and looking deliciously rumpled.
No, bad girl! She scolded herself and raised a hand when he moved to get closer to her.
“You’re fine right there, buddy. Not one inch closer. Now talk!” she growled.
Chapter Six
“Come on, Violet, easy now. You know me,” he said trying to get that scared look off her lovely face.
“But I don’t know you, Dean. Not enough for this,” she said and gestured between them, “I don’t usually jump guys who rescue me from car wrecks!”
“It’s alright. Look at me. You are okay, little one, you are safe with me,” Dean said, trying his best to calm his mate down.
Shit. He shouldn’t have kissed her back. But how was he supposed to react when she’d jumped on him?
His cock throbbed inside his pants at the image of her slamming him down onto the area rug with that gorgeous, half-dressed body of hers.
Holy fuck.
Dean had growled lustfully when he found himself sprawled out with his arms full of his luscious mate. Her soft, sugar cookie flavored lips devoured him upon contact. Tongues tangled, teeth nipped, Dean growled and wrapped his arms around her, crushing her full breasts against his chest.
For a first kiss, it was hot, smolderingly so, and he was hard pressed not to flip her over and tear the robe from her incredible body.
Good idea, his Tiger had growled inside his mind’s eye.
Patience, he’d returned and slowed the kiss, even as she’d straddled his hips and pressed her hot core over his rock-hard cock.
Fuck, it was a trigger reaction, he knew this, but it was the best he’d felt in forever.
“What the hell is going on?” she ended the kiss abruptly and scooted off of him, slapping her hand over her mouth.
He scented her embarrassment and fear, and his Tiger didn’t like that. Not one bit. His mate should be comfortable around him, and never ever should she be embarrassed of her natural attraction to him.
She was dynamite, a firecracker and he was going to hold onto her no matter what. One thing Dean knew for sure, he was not letting Violet Martinez go anywhere but with him.
After she’d basically told him to back the fuck off, Dean found himself sitting crisscross applesauce on the area rug like a fucking toddler at story time.
Whatever. That was all fine with him. As long as he could be near her, he was perfectly happy. So was his Tiger, who right about now, was acting more like a lovesick tomcat, belly up and purring softly in his throat vying for her attention.
For fuck’s sake, have some pride!
He scolded the animal gently, but it was no good. He was already head over heels for her, and if that wasn’t love, he didn’t know what was. Had there ever been a more beautiful woman on the entire planet?
With the glow from the firelight dancing across her warm bronzed skin and the stark white snow falling outside, she looked beyond beautiful. And she was his, er, well, she would be. As soon as he told her the truth.
“Okay, let’s talk,” he began, “First, you can kiss me whenever you want. Second, you are not going crazy-”
“Well, something is wrong,” she interrupted and he could see tears glisten in her dark brown eyes and it made his heart constrict, “I don’t usually do things like that,” she tried to explain but he could only imagine how confused she felt and that was all his fault.
Shit. Time to pay the piper.
“Listen, Violet, I have to tell you something but I don’t want you to get upset,” he began.
“Well, don’t start like that,” she mumbled.
“What?”
“You can’t tell me not to get upset, I mean it’s like a red flag just went off now and of course I’m going to be upset,” she quipped back.
“Oh, um, well then I guess I should apologize,” he said and ran a hand through his hair, “You know, I run a global conglomerate, and I would prefer walking into a boardroom full of those corporate bastards than having to tell you this, but here I go,” he couldn’t believe how difficult this was.
He was the Island Stripe Pride Neta for fuck’s sake and he couldn’t tell this woman that she was his mate and he’d given her his bite to save her life, which in turn had started the Puspa.
The magical process literally meant “change” and was seen as a blessing by Tiger Shifters. It was granted by the Fates to those couples whose hearts and souls were so perfectly aligned that they would only benefit from the gift of becoming a Shifter.
“You run a global conglomerate?” she interrupted his thoughts, which was good, because Dean, Pride Neta and President of the huge international corporation, was about to have a panic attack.
“Uh, yea,” he said, “ever hear of ISP? Island Stripe Pride Inc?”
“ISP? I think I’ve seen that stamped on some of the boxes my employer gets shipped to her warehouse. She manufactures organic beauty creams, shampoos and stuff and a lot of her ingredients are imported from all over the world.”
“Who is your employer?” he asked distractedly.
“Sherry Morgan-McAllister,” she replied, “She has a few salons in New Jersey and New York, I think, but I work for the one in town. I’m a nail technician. Well,” she blushed and tucked her hair behind her ears and he found himself fascinated by her story, “I’m a writer, aspiring anyway, but doing nails pays the bills.”