Hearing the sucking pop of bones reforming behind her told her that Varad had changed into a tiger. One glance over her shoulder confirmed it. The auburn-and-black-striped hair spread down from Varad’s head to cover his body. Claws bit into the white marble floor as his paws hit the ground. The hard, possessive golden eyes locked on her as the graceful cat’s muscles bunched and flowed, racing after her. Her womb contracted, juice pooling between her thighs. She hissed, facing ahead once more, pushing herself to greater speed. Faster. Faster. Don’t stop.
“Ha!”
She’d made it to the bay. Now she needed a dune-racer. There, the blue glow of exhaust rolled from one of the racers. Her boot heels rang against the hard floor, and her legs burned, but she couldn’t stop—he was getting closer, almost upon her. Sweat poured down her face, slipping down her chest and beading between her breasts. The corset bit into her flesh as she sobbed for air and her breasts almost spilled from the top with each deep breath she dragged into her lungs.
Flinging herself at the racer, the slit in her skirt allowed her to swing a leg over the side. Her hands grasped the handlebars, and she twisted the left grip to accelerate. The bottom dropped out of her stomach as the racer shot straight up into the air and then roared forward, heading right for the open bay doors. Varad’s cat shriek of frustration echoed through the immense bay, drowning out even the racer’s engine. She was almost free of the palace proper. The doors came closer and closer with every nanosecond.
Metal rang as a huge tiger’s weight slammed down on top of a large hovercraft, his paws stretched forward in a leap. Her breath caught as she watched Varad change in midair back to his human form. He was nude, the golden sinew of his muscles rippling as the fur retracted to reveal the subtle stripes on his skin. She screamed as he flipped neatly behind her onto the racer. It dipped under the added poundage, and she fought to control the machine so they didn’t crash.
The Dead Sea curved to her right, a wide swath of underground water and the lifeblood of Vesperi. Excitement spun through her as the amazing speed of the racer shot them out and across the open white sand dunes. The wind whipped at her hair, ripping it from its bindings to wave behind her.
“Mahlia.” His smooth, cultured voice was a guttural growl in her ear, and a lightning flash of pleasure zinged to her pussy.
One of Varad’s hands slid against her scalp, making gooseflesh erupt down her arms. She could feel the sharp points of his claws on her skin. He was almost feral. She had pushed him that far. Just the thought made her sex clench. His lips pressed to her shoulder, tongue laving the flesh. Then he bit her. Hard.
She sucked in a shocked breath and shoved her hips back to rub against his thick cock. All that separated her from him was the thin film of her garments—the bulbous crest of his dick teased her. Liquid heat rolled over her in waves. The claws of his other hand raked up her thigh, and he fisted his fingers in her skirt to rip it away, letting it spin off into the wind. She gasped at the slight pain and the coolness on her naked flesh. His hands fitted to her waist, shoving her up to lean over the handlebars of the dune-racer. The machine wavered as she overcorrected. Gods, she couldn’t crash them, couldn’t die without knowing the feel of him pounding within her once more.
The blunt tip of his cock brushed against the lips of her pussy as he slid beneath her raised hips. Then he forced her down to the base of his shaft in one brutal thrust. She screamed as her inner muscles stretched and convulsed around his dick. She wanted more, harder, faster. Her hands clamped on the racer’s handles, fighting to hold on to her sanity as pleasure slammed into her.
“Yes, Varad. Please.” She breathed the words, doubting he could hear her over the racer’s engine and the wind. He set a hard, driving rhythm, hammering into her wet pussy. Her cat senses could smell the musk of their combined sexes over the rush of wind. Her heart pounded loudly as exhilaration twisted inside her.
I always please you, Mahlia.
His telepathic words stroked over her mind just as his hands jerked hard on the lacings of her corset, pulling it down until her breasts sprang free of the restraint. Cold wind puckered the tips, and she arched as his hands rose to cup them, his fingers grinding her nipples, pinching them, pulling them hard. Her body bowed under the harsh lash of pleasure. She wanted it hard, swift, and rough. The heat inside her built, screaming for all he could give her.
More, Varad. More!
Yes. His voice dropped to a silken purr in her mind, the calm before a dangerous storm.
His fingers dropped to wrap tightly in the corset laces, and he used the leverage to pull her against him as he shoved his thick cock deeper into her. Her clit rode the cold metal of the racer as his hot flesh slammed into her from behind. She wanted to close her eyes and revel in the sensations exploding through her, but she had to focus on controlling their skimming flight over the dunes. The dangerous thrill of it made the sex better for her, made her want him more, made the pleasure writhe like an untamed thing through her.
Varad, I’m going to—
Come for me. Be wild for me.
He roared as he ground against her pussy, his fingers jerking her down. Harder and harder. Faster and faster until he froze behind her, shuddering as his seed spurted inside her.
Yes.
She threw her head back and screamed out her orgasm, her tiger’s roar resonating against the dunes.
“Mahlia!” Varad’s arms wrapped around her, and he leaped, pulling both of them away from the racer seconds before it exploded into the side of a massive sand dune.
He rolled them over and over, away from the smoking fire. His body settled over hers to surround her, shelter her. He buried her face in his shoulder, his big hand splayed against the base of her skull.
“Are you all right?” He pulled back, straddling her as his fingers brushed over her body, looking for injury.
“Yes,” she gasped. The heat burning within her returned full force. She needed him again. Craved him.
She arched beneath him, lifting her hands to stroke over the stripes on his chest. His skin gleamed in the light of Vesperi’s three moons. He was such a beautiful man. His auburn-and-black-striped hair brushed his shoulders, and a thick loop earring studded his left ear. Unexpected in a civilized king. Dangerous. Sexy. Even in the night, her cat’s eyes could see the details of every slope and plane of his muscled body. Her fingers brushed over his flat nipples, and they hardened under her touch. She swallowed, lust spinning wild in her, clouding her thoughts, bringing her world down to one thing, one need. To mate.
Varad, I need…
She couldn’t finish the thought, her mind an incoherent babble of begging, desperate want. Her hips twisted against the sand, and she snarled low in her throat, daring him to deny her, to claim her.
He extended the claws on one hand, slashing her corset to ribbons. Retracting his talons, he fisted his fingers in the tattered remains and ripped it from her body, baring her to his eyes. All she wore now were her long black boots. His gaze swept over her flesh in a heated caress before locking with hers. The gold of his irises bled to the corners of his eyes, his pupils expanding to see all of her.
He bent to suck her nipples into his mouth. She tangled her fingers in his soft hair, sifting through the bi-colored locks, pulling him closer. His teeth nipped at the swollen crests, making pleasure again flood her pussy with moisture. Cool air brushed over her damp nipples as he trailed his tongue down her ribcage, circling her navel. Her breath sped up in anticipation, and she parted her legs to allow him access to her core. He bit the soft swell of her belly, and she gasped. Settling between her thighs, his hard fingers shoved her legs wider for him.
A slow lick teased her dewy lips and clitoris. She panted, pushing closer to his mouth, needing satisfaction. He chuckled, flicking his tongue over her clit but not giving her the hard, insistent contact she craved.
Her fingers flexed in his hair, tugging hard.
“Varad!”
Your taste is lush
on my tongue, Mahlia. Tell me you want my fingers within you.
“Touch me,” she begged, sobbing hard. “Please, Varad.”
He purred against her pussy, and her heels dug into the sand, shoving her hips up as her torso bowed. Her pussy clenched tight on his invading tongue. His fingers pressed into her wet depths, stroking hard and fast, giving her just the kind of friction she needed. Her thighs shook as she rode the high edge of orgasm, and tears gathered at the corners of her eyes to slip down her cheeks. Excitement flashed through her, tingling over her flesh. She was so close she could taste the sweet bliss of it. He sucked her clit, and she screamed as pleasure hit her in a rush, orgasm fisting her pussy in rhythmic waves.
Oh, Gods. Oh, Gods.
It wasn’t enough. Her mating heat pressed in on her. She needed his cock moving deep inside her. Now. Her fingers dragged at his hair, pulling him on top of her.
Come inside me.
Oh, I will, my Amira.
He lunged up, covering her with his long, muscled length. She gasped at the hot press of his flesh against hers. It had been so long since she’d felt this—six excruciating months. His chest slid against her breasts, and he shifted to guide his cock to her opening. Her breath seized at the slow, hot glide of him within her. He ground his hips lightly to stimulate her clit. She closed her eyes, hooking her booted feet under his buttocks to keep him tight to her.
He grunted as he sank deeper in her, but he stopped moving. Her palms pressed to his back, fingers curling over his shoulder from behind. His head dipped to sip the skin of her throat just where she liked it. She purred in pleasure, but wild craving bit into her. Heat swamped her, made her hiss and arch beneath him, thrashing in the harsh grains of sand.
I can’t wait, Varad. Don’t tease.
“Tease?” He pulled back, a charming grin curving his lips. His pupils contracted into thin points when she stared up at him. She knew her own eyes would have no white around the irises. The pale blue would reach from corner to corner. Her claws bared, and she raked them slowly down his back. His breath hissed out as his hips bucked against her.
Yesssss.
Her eyes closed as the heat slid over her consciousness, instinct taking over. Her legs tightened on him, her pelvis rocking against his hard, thrusting cock. He was so big it almost hurt to have him inside her even now. She loved it. She wanted it. They moved together, slick skin slapping against slick skin as a fine sheen of sweat sealed their flesh with each quick thrust. She could smell the spice of his skin mixed with their sex. His lips pressed to the side of her neck, and he bit her again. She could feel the soft prick of his fangs as he scraped gently. It was enough to shove her over the edge.
“Varad!” Her scream carried across the sand dunes.
His head bowed back, and his fangs glistened in the moonlight. He roared his orgasm, riding his cock into her soft, welcoming flesh. His warmth pumped into her, and her sex contracted to keep his seed inside.
And finally she relaxed, spent. Panting, she waited for the high to crash, for her heart to stop pounding. She pushed against his shoulders until he rolled off her. Pulling her knees to her chest, she arched into a nimble leap, landing on the balls of her feet, the heels of her boots sinking into the soft sand. She turned away from Varad and faced the direction they had come from. She couldn’t see the bulbous points of the palace. It was designed to look like the old Earthan Taj Mahal—the building rose high into the sky, a beacon for travelers, as the rest of the city was buried beneath the ground. They had gone much too far if she could not see its impressive heights. Her stomach churned in uneasy fear.
Are you certain you are well, Mahlia?
She jerked her head to the side, ignoring the concern in his tone. “I am fine.”
More than fine, she was now in control of herself again as the overwhelming waves of mating heat receded in the cold reality of near death. Gods, she was such a fool. What had she been thinking to ignore the dangers involved in handling a dune-racer? And now they were countless miles from the capital, with no way back. The sun would rise soon. She squeezed her eyes closed. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
And she was, in all likelihood, pregnant. Her stomach pitched at the thought. She would know soon enough. If she hadn’t conceived, the heat would continue until she did. It was the nature of a weretiger. Then she would have the four short months of tiger gestation to brace herself for the terror of being a mother again. Tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t do it again. Her breath escaped in ragged puffs. Gods, she wasn’t strong enough to watch the life drain bit by bit from a tiny being who’d captured her heart. To see the genetic disorder so rare among the weretigers eat her child from inside out. She remembered the silky feel of Jeevan’s skin, the milky breath as he’d cuddled against her. Nausea rolled over her, and she swallowed hard to push it back.
“How long do we have to get back before the sun rises?”
“A few hours.”
“We’ll never make it back in time.”
“We must try. Rescue is not coming.”
A bitter laugh squeezed past her tight throat. “No, you’re right. No one will be looking for us. They’ll assume we’re holed up somewhere fucking each other senseless in our quest to beget them a living heir.”
“Mahlia—”
She slashed a hand through the air. “No. I don’t wish to speak of this. Let’s shift into tiger form. We’ll move faster that way.”
“As you desire, my Amira.” His jaw clenched as his head dipped in a sharp nod.
Chapter 2
She was so lovely in the moonlight, but it couldn’t stop the anger that licked at him for her insistence that they ignore Jeevan’s death. By ignoring it, she let it grow like a wide gulf between them. His gaze followed her pale body, his cock twitching to life once more. He groaned. He should not want her again so soon, but it had always been so with them. No other woman could compare.
He growled, stooping to change into a tiger. The suction of bone and sinew popping into a new shape sounded loud in the quiet stillness of the desert. The sound was mimicked by Mahlia’s change into her snow tiger form. Her long boots lay discarded beside her as they faced each other.
Watching her, he considered. He could obey her wishes and not speak of their lost son, or he could use the time she was trapped with him to his advantage. He dragged his tongue down a long fang and then stopped himself. He’d picked up the habit from Kesuk over the past three Turns. He shook the thought away, focusing on his mate.
It was not your fault he died, Mahlia. Or mine.
Incandescent rage burned in her blue eyes as her tail lashed behind her. She pivoted on her haunches to run for the capital city, her long white-and-brown-striped body gliding over the brilliant white sand. He pulled even with her shoulder but did not pass her. He did not want her to fall behind. Her safety was precious to him, and he would not lose her to the scorching heat of the sun. If not for the near constant twilight the moons provided by blocking the sun, Vesperi would be far too hot to inhabit. It was too close to the sun. No human could survive under its blistering heat for more than a few minutes. They would be incinerated.
I know that.
Her telepathic voice was a tight, furious cadence in his mind.
Yet you are angry with me.
You left me! You left me here to cope alone.
You told me to leave.
The pain of that still reverberated through him, but he’d had six months without her to know that he had no desire to live that way. Her quiet strength was a balm for him, and he’d craved her every day he’d spent alone.
You wanted to go. You wanted to run away, and I wasn’t going to beg you to stay.
He snorted. Beg me? You never acted as though you wanted to have anything to do with me. How was I to know, Mahlia? I am a king, not a mind reader.
You didn’t ask me to come with you.
Space travel is dangerous, Mahlia. I won’t—
And your worry is greater than mine? You t
hink I don’t fear that you’ll never return when you leave for half of each Turn?
He continued as if she hadn’t interrupted. I won’t risk your life. I won’t lose someone else it is my responsibility to protect.
Her stride faltered for a moment before she picked up her speed, stretching into a sprint. Don’t you see that you’re losing me anyway?
His breath caught. Mahlia—
She shook her head, pointed ears twitching. What of this child? If we’ve made a—
We have. And if not, we will try again.
Maybe we shouldn’t. It is not unheard of for an Amir to have multiple mates throughout his life.
His roar sounded over the sand. Never!
Varad—
He leaped in front of her, whipping around so they stood face-to-face, noses nearly touching. His eyes locked with hers, awareness spinning between them as it always did. He wanted her still, again. Always. He made his thoughts low, coaxing, seductive. Could any man please you as I do, Mahlia?
She paused, her gaze sliding away. No.
The bare whisper met his mind, but he was satisfied. She could not consider leaving him. Pain banded his chest. He shook his head. He would not stand for it. Ever. Stepping aside, he jerked his chin in the direction of the palace, indicating that she continue.
She pressed forward, and he fell in behind her, the fast rhythm of her smooth stride a pleasure to behold. You will see our babe for barely a month, and then off you’ll go, disappearing into the ether for the Gods know how long.
I do what I must for our people. Trade keeps us prosperous.
You need to also do what you must for our mating. For our family.
You think I neglect you?
I am not a mind reader either, Varad. I think you don’t care for my company enough to see me for more than a few stolen moments to roll in bed. I am merely a convenient bedmate. Even then, it is for but half the Turn. What tigress would be satisfied with that?
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