God, she craved this. Craved him. She hadn’t realized just how alone she’d been until she’d found him. The only contact she’d had in far too long had been the brush of her magic against someone else’s aura.
As satisfying as that could be, what she’d really wanted was this -- this perfect blend of physical touch, emotional closeness and the roil of his magic.
No man had ever touched her like this -- not just her heart, not just her body or her magic, but all the way down to the soul.
His hands tightened on her ass as he held her so effortlessly, making her feel like a featherweight in his arms.
Safe.
But she wanted to touch him, kiss him, run her tongue over all that smooth skin, flexing muscle and soft hair.
She rolled her hips against him, loving the thick promise of his erection butting against her belly.
“Put me down,” Genevieve breathed. “I want to touch you.”
He made a low growling sound and dropped to his knees. Her arms tightened convulsively, but where any other man might have had to put her down, Kurt was so strong, he balanced her weight easily.
God, he makes me feel… safe. Cherished.
Kurt spilled her onto her back. She lay looking up at him as he rocked back on his heels, his eyes dwelling possessively on her breasts. Her nipples ached, flushed and hard from his attentions. One corner of his mouth curled up in a wicked little smile.
He reached for the snap of her jeans. Gen canted her hips up, helping him slide them off. Catching her panties and waistband, Kurt tugged both down with one long pull. His gaze heated with hunger as he glimpsed the copper threads of her bush, intent eyes narrowing. His pupils expanded in the glowing rings of his irises.
Pausing, Kurt wrestled her shoes off with an impatient growl that made her smile. He pulled her jeans the rest of the way off, then put them aside with his own clothing.
For a moment they just stared at one another. Genevieve could feel her heart pounding so hard, her breasts juddered with the beat.
Gold glowing eyes scanned down her body, pausing at nipples and pussy while she admired the muscular width of his shoulders and the elegant jut of his cock.
Kurt looked up and met her gaze, and it seemed the world fell away under his demanding, possessive gaze.
Yet there was tenderness in it, a need for more than just sex. Looking in those eyes, Gen knew she was more than just pussy to him. More than just magic or skill or art.
He wanted her, just her. All of her.
And she wanted him right back. Not just the physical power of the magic, or the wit and intelligence, but Kurt. Just Kurt. All of Kurt.
She felt the brush of fur against her chest again, and knew Stoli wasn’t just a dangerous complication or a possible threat, but as much a part of him as that intelligence and courage. A part that made him even more than he would’ve been otherwise. He and his tiger formed a whole greater than either of them was separately.
Just as she and Kurt were more together.
He lowered himself over her, bracing on hands and knees, those broad shoulders and glowing eyes filling her vision.
She reached down his body, stroking along his ribs with one hand, and down his back with the other. Kurt’s eyes slid closed, and he chuffed -- that warm tiger sound of greeting and affection.
He bent down to kiss her again, magic and tongue swirling, until Genevieve felt like a leaf floating on currents of pleasure. His cock pressed against her, and she rolled her hips against him, caressing it with her body.
The air rumbled: Stoli again. Kurt started nibbling his way down the length of her jaw as his big hands cupped her breasts.
“Let me be on top!” she gasped. “I want to play too…”
He laughed, the rolling chuckle vibrating against her chest. “If you insist.”
Kurt rolled over onto his back as Gen sat up with a wicked surge of anticipation. She swung a leg over his hips and settled down on top of him, trapping his thick cock under her ass. She grinned down at him, savoring the moment.
Deliberately, he slid both big hands under his head, making impressive biceps bunch. Noticing the direction of her fascinated gaze, he flexed first one arm and then the other, then gave her a wicked waggle of the eyebrows. “Like what you see?”
Genevieve sat back on her heels, and rolled her shoulders back to thrust out her breasts. “Do you?”
His gaze locked on the soft globes and darkened until there was only a thin ring of gold around each pupil. “Oh, baby, do I.”
* * *
Kurt caught his breath at the sensual anticipation in her smile. “Good.” She raised herself off his aching cock and began to work her way downward. Her slick little pussy slid down his length. He grew even harder, something he wouldn’t have even thought possible.
As she moved downward, she braced her weight on her elbows. Lowering her head, she extended her tongue to give herself room to paint elegant little sigils over his skin. Each one seemed to stroke over his magic as much as his body, and he caught his breath.
A week ago, he would never have allowed a witch to work magic on him in any way, shape or form. Especially here, where the spell she’d already laid made her magic even stronger.
This wasn’t something they had to do to stop terrorists and save lives. This was all for his pleasure -- and hers. And that was all.
He knew Genevieve now, every bit as well as he knew Stoli or the men he’d fought and bled with in the wars.
And he knew that he loved her.
So now he lay under her as she worked her magic with tiny licks and swirls of her tongue, her hair tumbling over his body in cool copper curls that rolled over him like foam. He stroked one hand through those curls, feeling them spring and coil as he pulled at them gently.
With the other hand, Kurt traced the surprisingly strong muscle of her narrow shoulders. His gaze slid up to her ass, its sweet double curve thrust in the air by her kneeling position, pale in the light of the moon.
In the depths of his mind, Stoli growled possessive satisfaction. The tiger wanted to mount her, wanted to drive his cock into her.
And fuck and fuck and fuck.
Humans like to take their time, he told the tiger. Make it last.
Stoli’s reply was an impatient growl.
Then Gen stopped to bite his belly button with her sharp little teeth, not quite hard enough to sting. She raked her nails up the line of his ribs, and the ticklish sensation made him twist and growl. “Watch it, woman!”
Blue eyes flashed up at him, glowing with her magic. “Well,” she purred, “Is the big bad Feral ticklish?”
He narrowed his eyes at her in a mock glare. “Are you?”
She pretended to pout. “You’re no fun.” Then she turned her head and closed her mouth over the head of his cock.
He gasped. “You are.”
She pulled that talented mouth off of him. Blue flashed at him as she smiled. “I live to serve.” Her tongue did something to the curve of his dick, just a tiny little design, something intricate and swirling.
It grabbed him by the magic and reached all the way down into his balls.
He threw back his head with a gasp. “Don’t… Do that! Or this is going to take… A lot less time than either of us wants!”
“Wouldn’t want that.” She released him, and he damn near moaned in loss.
Until she blew a little puff of breath across the head of his cock and the cool sensation made his cock throb all over again. One small hand closed around his balls, caressing gently.
He waited, breath caught, for her to do that thing she did with her tongue again. Instead she turned her head and pressed a gentle bite to one of the tight tendons of his leg. Slowly, she licked another little symbol and he gasped.
Okay, he understood why the one on his cock felt like that. But that was his thigh.
Gen drew another design further down his leg, then switched to the other to nibble and taste and draw spells.
Kurt�
��s spine bowed and sweat broke out across his forehead. He clenched his fists in the thick fabric of the blanket they lay on, fighting desperately to hang on. She switched her attention to his cock again, licking those intricate designs. And with each one, the connection between her magic and his intensified.
Stoli yowled. An image flashed through his head -- tigers coupling, the male gripping the back of the female’s neck tenderly in his jaws like a tigress carrying a cub.
Not yet. His knuckles grew white as his grip tightened on the blanket.
* * *
Genevieve felt Kurt’s big body strain upward under hers. She could sense his desperate struggle to control his need. The air rumbled around them, and she suspected he didn’t even realize he was doing it.
Then again, he probably wasn’t. I seem to be in a ménage à trois with a tiger. Which was something no sane woman would really want to do; tiger dicks were barbed.
And yet she wasn’t worried in the least. She was too damn busy enjoying herself. Loving the sensation of power and pleasure she felt from having such powerful creatures so thoroughly in her control. It was wicked and kinky, and she adored every minute.
Closing her eyes, Gen contemplated the spell she was working. Glowing shapes revolved just over Kurt’s body. Sigils not to control him, not to force anything on him that he didn’t want, but to let their pleasure intensify each other’s.
Hers had always been a solitary magic, but it wasn’t now. Now the pleasure she gave him was hers too.
But the spell needed something else. Genevieve studied the glow through her closed lids, conscious of the magic rolling around them, of tiger eyes watching her.
She balanced over him, took his big shaft in hand, and positioned him against her pussy.
Then slowly, carefully, Gen sank down, impaling herself by delicious fractions.
Kurt arched his hips, thrusting upward, deepening the penetration. The spell she’d cast sprang to life, lighting up every sigil she’d painted on his body.
The glow rolled over him in a rainbow wave that spread into her hands, her pussy, radiating up her body, glowing brighter and brighter. Until…
Magic detonated through them in a blinding explosion of light and life.
Genevieve scented something wild and dark, heard Kurt’s bellow as his golden eyes blazed up into hers.
Feeling his love for her, she showed him hers in all of its delicious intensity. Soul fused with soul, fused with soul, in a three-part chain reaction even more intense than their bond.
The climax hit her, a furious surge of energy and magic. The orgasm shuddered through every fiber, shaking her until she lost it and screamed. And screamed, the sound blending with Kurt’s bellow and Stoli’s roar.
All around them, it seemed every cat in the park roared, screamed, screeched, a shattering feline chorus.
For a moment they both went blind, senses lost in whiteout, two humans and a tiger fused into one mind, one soul.
She collapsed over him, and they curled their arms around each other, sweating, hearts hammering in unison. They said the words in chorus: “Marry me.”
And in chorus, “Yes!”
Kurt laughed and hugged her close. “You know, we can’t keep doing the tandem thing. People are going to be creeped out.”
“Screw them. Let them get their own tiger.”
They clung to one another while their breathing eased.
At last Kurt murmured, “I’m going to have my hands full reorganizing BFS without Dad.” Genevieve knew he still had grieving to do.
Listening to his heartbeat, she smiled, slow and peaceful. “I’ll help.”
He turned his head to study her. “But you’ve got your art.”
“I can do both. After what we’ve done, we can handle anything.” She cuddled closer to him.
Which was when a snippet of a familiar song floated over the fence. “Tale as old as time, Song as old as rhyme, Beauty aaaand the Beeeast…”
Kurt lifted his head. “Dave, damn it!”
A rimshot sounded, followed by chuffing tiger laughter.
Dedication
Dear Reader: Thank you so much for your interest in my 19th novel. Arcane Kiss is the first in a new self-published paranormal series, Talents, dealing with an alternate universe where people with a variety of magical abilities search for love and survival among those who fear them.
As usual, there are many people who helped me in the creation of this book. Shelby Morgen, my editor, did her usual exemplary job, as did her copy editors, Bill Riley and Pat Sager, and line editor, Emilie Pitt. Cover artist Fiona Jayde did her habitual skilled job. My critique partner, Joey W. Hill, gave me invaluable input, as she always does.
I also added a group of wonderful beta readers, many of them romance novelists, who were kind enough to give me their opinion. They include long-time reader Virginia Ettel, my splendid Bookdragon; my personal assistant Ashley Granger; my Oz bookseller friend Rosemary Potter; Tina Mollere (one of my original Slut Puppies); fellow novelists LaVerne Thompson, Eileen Gormley, and Rena Marks; and Facebook friends Dragon, Marlena Anderson and Lise Marie.
Another resource I found invaluable was Big Cat Rescue, a Tampa, Fl. sanctuary for tigers, lions, and other exotic felines. I spent many happy hours at https://bigcatrescue.org researching tigers and lions at the site. I was surprised and horrified to learn just how vulnerable a six-hundred-pound cat can be to abuse and neglect by roadside zoos and backyard breeders.
Obviously I made up the paranormal aspects of my big cat Familiars, but I stayed as close as I could to the facts about the actual animals themselves. I hope you’ll drop by the BCR YouTube site, https://www.youtube.com/bigcatrescue, where you’ll find hours of videos featuring tigers, lions, and other cats. If you’ve watched as many cat videos as I have, you may be startled to see a huge lion do some of the same things.
Apparently a cat is a cat.
Please consider helping BCR keep their furry friends fed and healthy with a donation at https://bigcatrescue.org/donate/. I have made donations myself while writing this book, and plan to do so in the future.
However, please note that none of the staff or volunteers at Big Cat Rescue acted as technical advisers on this book, and did not approve it. I simply used the site for research purposes -- any mistakes or inaccuracies about running a rescue are my own. I mention BCR here only in hopes that you may decide to check out the site and help their cats. They do wonderful work for abused animals, and deserve your support.
Thank you so much for buying my book. I hope you enjoy reading it as I did writing it.
Best,
Angela Knight
www.angelasknights.com
Angela Knight
Angela Knight is the New York Times best selling author of books for Berkley, Red Sage, Changeling Press, and Loose Id. Her first book was written in pencil and illustrated in crayon; she was nine years old at the time. A few years later, she read The Wolf and the Dove and fell in love with romance. Besides her fiction work, Angela’s publishing career includes a stint as a comic book writer and ten years as a newspaper reporter. Several of her stories won South Carolina Press Association awards under her real name.
Angela lives in South Carolina with her husband, Michael, a hostage negotiator for the County Sheriff’s Office. Contact Angela via email at [email protected], or visit her website at www.angelasknights.com.
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