Tiger's Claws

by Leslie Chase

  Despite everything, Lenore couldn’t help laughing. “It must be tough.”

  “You have no idea,” Maxwell sighed again, and walked them up to the door of her building. It was only then that Lenore realized she didn’t have her keys - they were somewhere in the wreck of the car crash, she imagined, or maybe in Sir Daniel’s lair. With a sigh of her own, she pressed the buzzer for the apartment next door to hers, hoping her neighbor Rachel was home.

  “Hello?”

  Thank goodness! “Rachel, it’s Lenore, I’m locked out! Could you let me in?”

  “Sure thing, hun! Come on up.”

  The door buzzed open, and Lenore led Maxwell into the dimly lit corridor inside. Half the lights were out, which was for the best - Lenore wouldn’t have wanted the peeling paintwork to be too clearly visible to Maxwell. The place looked bad enough in half light, let alone in full.

  He didn’t seem to care, or even look at his surroundings. As soon as the door swung shut behind them, Maxwell’s arms were around her, pushing her against the cold concrete wall. His lips met hers with a passionate kiss that Lenore felt in every fiber of her being.

  Panting, he stepped back, his amber eyes on hers. “I have been wanting to do that since I found you again.”

  Lenore’s heart raced, and it took a moment for her to gather her wits enough to reply. “Oh god, I thought I wasn’t going to see you again.”

  “You never need to worry about that,” he said fiercely. “Never. If you need me, I will be there for you, no matter what happens, or who tries to keep us apart.”

  His raw simple sincerity struck her like a lightning bolt, and she fell into his arms again. He caught her, lifting her so their faces were level, and kissed her again before setting her down. “Now, you are going to take me up to your apartment. Or one of your neighbors is going to catch us making a spectacle of ourselves in the stairway.”

  She felt her cheeks heat and shook her head, grabbing his hand and leading him towards the stairs. It was two stories up to her door, a climb which usually left her feeling grumpy and out of breath. Now she was breathless for a different reason, and practically bounding up the stairs.

  They were met outside her door by Rachel, who grinned delightedly to see her and held out the spare key she kept. “I wondered what you were doing coming home this early, Lenore,” she said, glancing past her to look Maxwell up and down. Lenore’s blush deepened, and she snatched the key.

  “It’s not -” she started, and then paused. It wasn’t what it looked like, exactly, but the truth was a lot less believable and would take far too long to explain anyway.

  “Of course not,” Rachel shook her head with a laugh. “Well, I’m pleased to meet you anyway, mister. And I’ll leave you two to have fun. We’ll catch up later, Lenore!”

  Not giving Lenore a chance to respond, she vanished back into her own flat. Lenore shook herself, fumbled the key into the lock, and let them in.

  No sooner was the door open, than Maxwell had lifted her off the ground again and carried her inside. Her heart pounded at the sheer power of him, the way he lifted her casually and paid her weight no heed - it made her feel light as air. She tried to direct him, but he didn’t pause, and to be fair, there weren’t many rooms to go to: three steps took him into her living room, where he deposited her on the sofa with a hungry growl.

  She looked up at him, feeling the joy of his presence and the longing for his touch burn inside her. But he held back, stepping away, though his eyes never left her.

  “What is it?” she asked, breathlessly. “What’s wrong?”

  “When you left,” he said, his voice growling low and hungry, “you chose to go. To be without me.”

  He seemed on the verge of losing control, and it was almost frightening. Almost. Something deep inside her knew that he would never harm her.

  “You chose to go, and now I’ve followed you home.” His eyes, so intense, looked into hers, and she could see need and longing in them. “I don’t want this to be something you don’t want it to be. If you don’t want me here, say so, and I will go.”

  What that cost him, she couldn’t imagine, but she could see that it wasn’t easy to say. Her breath caught at the control he showed and she shook her head quickly.

  “I didn’t want to leave you,” she said. “I couldn’t be there with you, but I never wanted to be away from you! Please, come here, be with me.”

  Her words washed away the conflict in his eyes, and Maxwell pounced on her, his body pressing her down on the sofa, his hands on her body, his mouth on her lips. His touch was electric, sending sparks of need and desire flashing through her nerves, lighting up her brain with lust. Lenore arched under him, pressing her body to him as firmly as she could.

  She felt his hands slip under her top, brushing over her skin, his fingers pressing firmly as they explored her. Her own hands gripped his back as she gasped, and he chuckled, kissing her neck, his teeth gently nipping at her skin.

  “Lenore, you are so damnably sexy,” he growled into her ear. “I am going to devour you.”

  Kissing his way lower, he brought his hands up and gripped the neck of her top. As his lips reached the collar, he tore it open. With a rip, the fabric parted, and Lenore gasped and shuddered.

  Another low, eager laugh, directed into her chest as he moved his mouth lower. Kissing. His rough tongue caressing her skin. Her fingers slid into his hair, gripping, holding him to her as he kissed his way over the tops of her breasts before pulling her bra open with a snap.

  Lenore felt his warm breath across her breasts, her nipples stiffening under his lips and tongue. She moaned. Her body ached for him, every inch of skin needing his touch, his caress. His slow, deliberate progress across her was maddening.

  She shivered, gasping in delight when his mouth closed around her left nipple, and sucked, tongue rasping over her so-sensitive flesh. One of his hands gripped her right breast, finger and thumb closing around the nipple, gently squeezing as he licked. The sensation made Lenore shudder, panting with need.

  “Please, oh god, Maxwell,” she heard herself gasping, “please, I need you, I need you now!”

  He lifted his face from her body, looking up at her, meeting her eyes, his face flushed and eyes predatory. “And you will have me. When I choose. Patience.”

  She groaned. Patience?! That was an impossible demand, but she was helpless in his grip, and could do nothing but surrender to him. His powerful hands gripped the waistband of her skirt, and he resumed his slow trail of kisses downward, across her stomach. Each time his lips met her skin, she gasped. Each time he planted a kiss, she shivered under him. Each time he growled against her, she felt a pulse of need between her legs.

  He yanked at her skirt, and it parted like paper in his grip. Lenore’s body quivered under him as he tore aside her panties, and at last she felt his mouth reach her pussy, his tongue darting out to lick along her folds.

  “Oh god, oh god,” she cried out, her hands clenching in his hair. He buried his face in her, and her words turned to an incoherent howl of need and pleasure.

  Maxwell grabbed her ass, his fingers tight on her, lifting her to him as he licked hungrily. His mouth closed over her clit and she couldn’t hold back the waves of ecstasy any more, screaming her joy to the ceiling as she came on his demanding tongue.

  Her breath slowed as he let her go, and grinned up at her from between her legs.

  “This is the best, sexiest view a man could wish for,” he said, his voice hoarse with need. She shuddered again, swallowing and looking down at him.

  “Flatterer,” she replied, pulling at him, urging him closer. Her body still ached for him, and she felt his need for her like a physical presence in the room. He rose to his feet, towering over her, and grabbed his shirt, pulling it off with smooth, effortless economy of movement. Lenore watched, breathless, as he kicked off his shoes and pulled down his pants, standing naked before her.

  Once again, her eyes roamed over him, admiring him unb
elieving. She couldn’t be this lucky, could she? He was magnificent, toned and tanned, muscles rippling as he lowered himself to her again. He was hard, his gorgeous cock standing straight, and she reached out for it as he came closer.

  Maxwell groaned at her touch, her fingers squeezing gently and stroking his rod. He took her legs in his hands, spreading them wide, and she guided him to her aching, empty sex. As the head of his cock touched her, he stopped, and she gasped in frustrated need.

  “Please, Maxwell, I need you in me,” she pleaded. “Don’t - don’t tease me like this!”

  For a moment, she thought he was going to make her wait, make her beg. Then he thrust, a single powerful movement which buried him deep inside her, driving her down into the cushions of her sofa. Her cries echoed through the room as he thrust again, and again, and again, driving deeper and faster each time, filling her and sending thunderbolts of pleasure through her. She gripped him tight, holding him to her, her fingers clawing at his back, her legs wrapped around him.

  Maxwell’s hand lifted her head, letting him look her in the eyes, and she saw the fire there. His need for her, his lust for her, the powerful will that kept him from losing control. And the reflection of her own desire, her own need, the fire which burnt between them, engulfing both of them as they moved together. It was too much for her, and she felt the rising tide of her orgasm building quickly, her nails scratching his back as she shuddered and lost control again.

  He wouldn’t let her look away as the explosion of sensation swept away her thoughts. Instead, he kept his eyes on hers, watching her come as her body shook. His body trembled against her and even his will slipped, and with a roar he exploded inside her, her pussy clenching tight around his cock as he emptied himself into her.

  At last they were spent, collapsing, panting into a heap on the sofa, their sweat-slick bodies locked together in a tight embrace. For a minute, all they did was breathe, slowly catching their breaths and holding each other tight. Lenore felt so right, so at home in his arms, all the fear and tension of the day slipping away from her. None of it mattered, not while this man had her in his arms.

  She sighed happily, filled with a deep and inexplicable feeling that everything would be alright if only they were together.

  Her sigh stirred Maxwell from his reverie, and he kissed her tenderly on the lips. “Lenore Kimble, you are amazing.”

  “Maxwell Walters,” she said, trying to match his reverent tone and spoiling it with a happy giggle. “You are wonderful.”

  He laughed too, standing and lifting her in his arms. “Where is your shower, Lenore?”

  “Through there,” she told him, pointing. “Hey, am I not going to get to walk anywhere in my own home?”

  “Nope,” he told her, grinning and carrying her through to the bathroom. “Not tonight, anyway. Now let’s get cleaned up, and then we both need a rest.”

  4

  The Tiger Himself

  The morning light streamed in through the window, waking Lenore and making her curse that she hadn’t shut the curtains properly. It took a moment’s familiar annoyance at that before she remembered that she shouldn’t be alone in her bed.

  The space beside her was still warm from Maxwell’s body heat, and she found herself smiling goofily as she snuggled into his warmth. The last couple of days were almost dreamlike, but she wasn’t about to let herself forget that he was real, very real, and here with her.

  As though he was summoned by her thoughts, the bedroom door swung open and in walked Maxwell, carrying a tray. Lenore smiled up at him, surprised and pleased, the smell of breakfast making her aware of just how hungry she was.

  “I know we didn’t eat much yesterday, so I thought I’d make you something nice this morning,” he said, sitting on the bed beside her, his weight making the springs creak. “How you cook anything in that kitchen amazes me, though. There’s no space!”

  “There’s plenty of space for a normal kitchen,” she protested, blushing at the thought of the mess he must have found in there. She hadn’t exactly planned for company when she went out, after all. “It’s not my fault you’re used to living in a palace!”

  He laughed, and handed her the tray. She instantly forgave him his attitude towards her home, seeing the plate piled high with thick pancakes, a little dish of syrup beside them, and strawberries too. She grabbed a fork and dug in, getting a couple of mouthfuls into the meal before she frowned.

  “Wait a minute, you couldn’t have made these with what I keep in the house.”

  “No, well, I may have sent one of the security staff out for a few things. I like to work in the kitchen from time to time, it’s relaxing, and I wanted to wake you with a nice surprise.”

  Lenore blushed again, feeling a stupid grin spreading across her face. He likes to cook, too? Is there anything not to like about this man?

  That brought back the memory that he did have the disadvantage of being hunted by some kind of crazed aristocrat who wasn’t above kidnapping his girlfriend for some kind of magical ritual. And that was a bit of an appetite-killer for Lenore, so she resolved not to think about it until after she’d finished her breakfast.

  The food was lovely, and Lenore gave herself over to appreciating it. Maxwell vanished for a moment to fetch his own tray and sat beside her in companionable silence until they were both finished.

  Taking her tray and his, he put them aside and bent to kiss her on the brow. Lenore found herself grinning and blushing - breakfast in bed was a surprise, and a welcome one.

  But the questions couldn’t be put off forever.

  “So, what now,” she asked him, and he sat back with a faint frown. “I mean, this has to change things, doesn’t it?”

  “Of course it does,” he agreed, sounding unhappy about it. “It seems like I can’t keep you as safe as I promised, so we have to do something else.”

  “I could… move back to your house?” Lenore felt a little silly offering that suggestion. It had been a big decision to leave, after all, and to change her mind the next day seemed ridiculous.

  “No.” Maxwell’s answer surprised her, and hurt. Did he no longer want her? She couldn’t blame him for that, with the trouble she was being, but he’d seemed keen enough the evening before. He saw her reaction and his frown deepened. “Oh, nothing would please me more! But your reasons for leaving are still valid, and I will not allow this madman to trample over your choices. We’ll just have to do things a little differently.

  “Fortunately, I have made plans. Penelope is looking into our enemy, but I have the day to look after you. So come on, up you get - I have things arranged.”

  For a moment, Lenore felt like protesting, asking for another hour in bed. But the tone of his voice brooked no argument, and she had to admit that she was curious. With a long-suffering sigh, she pulled back the covers and got up to face the day.

  * * *

  Showered and dressed, Lenore felt as prepared as she could be without knowing what the day would bring. She looked herself up and down in the mirror, and was a little surprised to find that she rather liked what she saw. She’d picked out a simple outfit for the day, not knowing what to expect, and though the simple summer dress was one that she usually just wore for comfort, today she thought that it looked genuinely good on her.

  Perhaps Maxwell’s way of looking at her was rubbing off on her? She couldn’t look that different from the last time she’d seen herself in it, but his insistence that she was beautiful seemed to have convinced her to have a more forgiving look at herself. She smiled at her reflection, turning to admire the way she filled out the dress, and wondered what Maxwell would say on seeing her in it. The thought of his pleased reaction made her blush a little, and she went looking for him.

  Unlike his home, that wasn’t a daunting task here. He wasn’t in the bedroom or the bathroom, and that only left the kitchen and the living room. She tried the living room first, and stopped in the doorway with a gasp.

  It was full of flowers.


  Every surface was covered in them: blossoms in every color arranged in a beautiful, overwhelming display. The mixed scent was heady, strong, and wonderful, and Lenore breathed in deeply as she looked around, trying to take it all in. There were lilies, carnations, and flowers she couldn’t name, mixed with a careful artistry that fell just short of completely overwhelming, and in the middle of the room, sitting on the sofa, was Maxwell.

  Lenore took a hesitant step into the room, turning in a full circle to appreciate the whole effect. It was too much to take in, leaving her breathless as she turned back to him. While she’d turned her back, he’d picked up a bunch of roses from somewhere, and he held them out to her. His face was a picture of delight, eyes glinting as he waited for her to gather herself sufficiently to say something.

  “Wow,” was all that she could manage. She felt herself blushing, took a deep breath, and tried again. “This is… this is amazing.”

  “I want you to know that I care,” he said, a serious note in his voice. “I’ve upended your life, I’ve drawn you into trouble that you don’t need or deserve to suffer through. And I don’t want you to think for a second that you aren’t the uppermost thing in my mind.

  “We are fated for each other, Lenore. I know that, I felt it as soon as I met you. The tiger in my heart knows you for my fated mate. You may think that I take it for granted that it will work out, because of that. Well, I promise I will never take you for granted.”

  Lenore swallowed, looking down into his bright eyes, and seeing only sincerity. Wordlessly she sank down onto the sofa beside him, putting her arms around him and hugging him tightly. Their lips met in a long, passionate kiss, and she felt his arms close around him, holding her tight and safe, keeping her fears at bay.

  “There’s something else I need to do,” Maxwell said, when they eventually separated. Lenore looked up at him, blushing and grinning, and he chuckled at the glint in her eye. “Not that. Well, yes, but not right away.”