Night of the Tiger (Hades' Carnival)

by N. J. Walters

  Her eyes widened and she smiled. It was a sleepy, siren’s smile that made his gut clench and his balls constrict to the point of pain.

  Gripping her hips, he urged her upward. She raised herself above him, placing her hands on his chest for support. She bit her bottom lip and slowly lowered herself again, taking all of him.

  Unable to stop himself, he arched his hips upward on her down stroke, driving impossibly deep. She cried out, but didn’t stop. Her cream slid out from between them, coating her tender folds and his thick shaft. The smell of sex and woman permeated the air. Roric took a deep breath, savoring the rich scent. Exquisite.

  This was life, this elemental connection between male and female. No matter what period of time in the history of the earth, this bond was the most powerful of all. Sex. Mating. Confirming life.

  Roric slid his hands over her slender torso, marveling at the softness of her skin. He cupped her breasts and she leaned into him, offering herself without reservation. He thumbed her nipples, delighting in the way they puckered under his tender ministrations.

  They were both close now. Even though it had been a long time, he knew himself well. He felt the familiar tightening of the heavy sac between his legs, the thickening of his shaft and the pressure gathering at the base. He could sense the changes in her body, the way her breathing quickened and her sheath clenched around him with each thrust. Roric pushed into a seated position and clamped his mouth over her breast. He sucked, pulling hard on the taut bud.

  She gasped and he felt her inner muscles rippling around him. Wrapping his hands around her hips, he thrust his pelvis upward, driving deep. His balls constricted, and his cock exploded, his seed spurting from the tip to fill her. Growling, he held her close as his shaft spasmed.

  Her nails dug into the slick flesh of his chest and she cried out. Her sheath clutched his turgid length, milking him until there was nothing left. Exhausted, he collapsed, his spine hitting the mattress, his head settling on the soft pillows. Such luxury, such comfort had been unheard of the last time he’d walked the earth. He allowed himself to enjoy it, even though he knew it couldn’t last. She fell forward, settling against him, snuggling against his chest as if she belonged there.

  Roric ignored the warmth that radiated from his heart. They’d pleasured one another. That was enough. His job was to save her, and himself, from the demons of Hell and free his soul. Once he’d accomplished that, he had to find a way to free his fellow warriors and the Lady to whom he’d pledged his allegiance. He would not believe she was dead.

  There was no room in his life for a woman. No matter how soft or tempting she might be.

  He wrapped his arms more firmly around her and held her to his chest, feeling the curve of her cheek rest against his heart. He’d lie here until he caught his breath. Then it was time to make plans.

  Chapter Six

  Aimee’s eyes fluttered open and then closed again. The sun was shining through her window, warming her bedroom, a clear signal that it was time for her to get up and start her day. She never closed her bedroom drapes, preferring to have the sun wake her naturally rather than having an alarm clock blare at her. Since she didn’t have to punch a time clock and often sketched and drew at odd hours. It worked for her.

  Problem was, Aimee didn’t want to move. Not this morning. She didn’t want to disturb the remnants of the wonderful dream she’d had. Never in her life had a dream been so real, so stirring. Considering how vivid her dreams were, that was saying something. Her body was still vibrating with pleasure from her orgasm.

  It was much better than the nightmares that usually plagued her sleep. She shuddered and snuggled deeper into the mattress, reveling in the heat that surrounded her.

  She frowned as a memory flickered around the edges of her awareness. Had she succumbed to another nightmare last night? She wasn’t sure. She mentally shrugged. If she didn’t remember it, that was a small blessing.

  She’d much rather focus on the good dream, her erotic fantasy featuring a most spectacular specimen of manhood. Definitely an improvement over her usual nightmare of being threatened with eternal damnation and the fires of Hell.

  Aimee concentrated on trying to remember more from last night. Her frown deepened as memories tickled the corner of her consciousness and details came seeping slowly back.

  She’d gone to the carnival with Sandra, but had lost her friend at the funhouse. After searching for her, Aimee had treated herself to a hotdog, and eventually she’d found her way to the sideshows.

  She’d found a beautiful carousel with the most magnificent creatures. Had she ridden a white tiger? It was coming back to her in bits and pieces, the details few and fuzzy. She shifted, trying to get more comfortable. Her bed, usually comfortable, seemed lumpy this morning.

  The mattress moved beneath her. Aimee froze. She splayed open her fingers and felt warmth and flesh instead of cool sheets. Lifting her eyelids, she stared at the wide expanse of male skin that greeted her. There was a man in bed with her.

  There was a naked man in bed with her.

  Aimee jerked upward until she could clearly see his face. Familiar blue eyes stared back at her. It hadn’t been a dream. It was real.

  Shoving away from him, Aimee scrambled out of bed. She got tangled in the sheet and tumbled to the floor. Her butt barely had time to register a complaint before she jumped to her feet. Grabbing the edge of the sheet, she tugged it toward her and wrapped it around her trembling body. It left him totally naked, but she didn’t care. “Who the hell are you and how did you get into my bed?”

  Seemingly unconcerned by her outburst, the man stacked his hands behind his head and relaxed against the pillows. She desperately tried not to notice the way his biceps bulged. She also had to work to ignore the sexy tufts of hair beneath his armpits and the bands of muscles delineating his wide chest.

  She was losing her mind. There was a strange man in bed with her and she found his armpits sexy. What in the name of God had she done last night? She’d never brought a stranger home before. Where had she met him?

  She desperately searched through her hazy memories for a clue. He didn’t seem like a maniac or a psycho. So far, he hadn’t moved except to put his hands behind his head in a non-threatening manner.

  Slowly, almost lazily, he raked his gaze over her trembling body. He started at the top of her head and worked his way down. Aimee pulled the sheet tighter around her, desperately trying to ignore the way her nipples puckered against the thin fabric and the steady pulsing that began low in her belly.

  She felt fully aroused, completely debauched and totally disheveled, her body a sweaty, aching reminder that she hadn’t been dreaming earlier. She’d had sex with a stranger. Unprotected sex with a stranger.

  “Ohmygod, I can’t believe this is happening.” The phone. She had to get to the phone and call the cops. She inched her way around to the end of the bed. The stranger didn’t move, but his eyes tracked her every movement. He reminded her of someone.

  Of course he reminded her of someone. She’d done the mattress dance with him last night. Her skin heated as memories of exactly what she’d done last night came flooding back. She might not know his name but her body was very familiar with his.

  Her phone wasn’t on her nightstand, which meant it was in the charger downstairs. She’d have to make a break for the kitchen and pray she got there before he caught her. Although he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to stop her. With the sheet pulled away, he was totally naked and was obviously in no hurry to cover himself. Aimee swallowed hard as she noted he was also fully aroused.

  The police. She shook herself from his sensual spell. She had to call the police. And tell them what? He hadn’t raped her. She’d been a willing participant in their earlier sexual escapades. Even though she’d thought it was just a dream, he’d given her a chance to say no.

  She nibbled on her lower lip. Her reputation wasn’t the best in this town, and they’d think she was totally nuts if she called t
hem and told them her story. She could just imagine it. Officer, there’s a naked man in my bed. I thought I was dreaming but, hey, I just had to touch him. All over. And surprise, surprise, we ended up having the most amazing sex of my life. You have to come save me. Yeah, right. They’d lock her up instead of him.

  She brought her attention back to the man still sprawled naked across her bed. “Look, I don’t know who you are or how you got here, but you have to leave.” There, that was forceful and decisive. She’d even managed to say it without drooling over his incredibly hot body.

  What was wrong with her? It wasn’t like her to be ogling some guy. Of course, it wasn’t like her to wake up with some strange man in her bed. It hadn’t happened…well, ever.

  He shifted slightly, muscles rippling down his arms and across his chest. The movement was small, but there was no mistaking the controlled power behind it. His lips turned down at the corners, and she had the uncomfortable feeling that she’d just disappointed him somehow. Which was absolutely crazy. And seemingly right in line with the rest of this bizarre morning.

  “You don’t remember.”

  Aimee closed her eyes and said a prayer under her breath. His voice could seduce the coldest of women. Like dark, thick chocolate, it flowed through her veins, tempting her to just crawl back in bed and throw herself at him. She shook her head, refusing to look at him. She had to get him out of her house.

  Fingers stroked her cheek. Aimee’s eyes popped open, and she screamed and jumped back. She hadn’t heard him move. The bed hadn’t creaked. The sheet beneath him had made no sound. For such a large man, he was incredibly quiet when he moved. She wished she were half as graceful. Instead, she felt her left foot tangle in the sheet. Her knee began to buckle and she started to go down.

  Before she could do more than gasp, the stranger scooped her into his arms, a frown marring his rugged face. “You truly don’t remember.”

  He seemed more than a little upset by this. She ignored the heat emanating from his massive chest as he set her back on the bed. He loomed above her, large and naked, his erection heavy and thick. She should be afraid of him, shouldn’t she? He was a total stranger, and he was making himself at home in her house.

  The problem was, he didn’t seem like a stranger. With each passing moment, he felt like someone she knew…well. Of course, she’d had sex with the man. Couldn’t get much closer than that.

  But it was more than a physical connection. There was some part of her, deep in her soul, that recognized him and yearned to help him. Shaking her head, she struggled to find her voice again. “No. No, I don’t remember.” That wasn’t exactly true. “I don’t remember much.” But the longer she was awake, the more she was remembering. Aimee rubbed her fingertips over her temples, trying to beat back the headache that was starting to brew.

  “What do you remember?”

  She ignored his demand. She had a few questions of her own. “First things first. Who the heck are you?”

  He sat down on the mattress beside her, his hip brushing her thigh. The sheet separated them, but it might as well have not been there for all the protection it offered her. She could feel the heat from his body soaking into her chilled flesh.

  “My name is Roric.” He paused, as if waiting for some kind of reaction from her.

  The name stirred a memory from deep in her subconscious. She frowned as more details came back to her. That was the word the carnival people had shouted at her while she’d taken the wild ride on the carousel. But had that really happened? Aimee was no longer certain about anything.

  “You remember something,” he prompted her. He narrowed his eyes. A muscle rippled in his jaw as he watched and waited. She had a feeling he was very good at waiting.

  “I’m not sure of anything.” She could hear the rising hysteria in her voice and struggled to keep calm and composed, which wasn’t easy to do with a naked stranger sitting next to her.

  He sighed and raked his hands through his hair. Strand of white and black sifted through his fingers.

  It came to her then who he reminded her of. The white tiger from the carnival ride. He was also the same man from a dream she’d had two nights ago. She frowned. Or was it longer? Somewhere along the way she’d lost all sense of time and had no idea what day it was.

  How could she dream about a man she’d never met? Had she seen his face somewhere, and her subconscious used that memory to bring him into her dream? Didn’t seem possible. She’d certainly remember seeing a man as striking as Roric.

  “I went to a carnival last night and saw some strange things there. At least I think I did. At this point, I’m not sure what’s a dream and what’s reality.” A horrible thought occurred to her. Maybe she was the victim of some sort of scam. Had she been drugged somehow while she’d been touring the sideshows? “Did you drug me?” she blurted out.

  His face darkened, his features tightening until he looked as if they’d been carved from stone. “No.”

  She didn’t know how to respond to that. He didn’t try to convince her what he said was true. He’d just said no and left it at that. She found herself believing him and relaxed slightly. Okay, she believed that Roric hadn’t drugged her. That didn’t mean someone else hadn’t. At this point, the most important thing to figure out was what the heck had happened to her.

  The carnival was very real. She and Sandra had left here last night together. She’d seen the rides and the townspeople and the carousel. The question remained, what had happened? How had she gotten from there to here? And why was Roric with her?

  As if sensing her unsettled thoughts, Roric turned and stroked his fingers down the side of her face again. The pads of his fingertips were rough, but his touch was gentle. “What is your name?”

  Embarrassment flooded her, and she felt her face growing warmer under his continued appraisal. God, she’d slept with a man who didn’t even know her name. Not that she could point her finger just at him. She hadn’t known his name until he’d told her. “Aimee. Aimee Horner.”

  “And where are we, Aimee Horner?”

  The way he said her name made her womb clench. She crossed her arms over her chest to hide the fact that her nipples were standing at attention. “We’re in my home.”

  He shook his head, making his hair sway. Her gaze followed its path as it brushed his shoulders. She curled her fingers into her palm to keep from reaching out to touch the thick strands. She suddenly had a vivid memory of that hair brushing erotically against her breasts.

  “No. What place are we?”

  Her mouth dropped open, and all thoughts of his sexy hair were forgotten. “You don’t know where you are?”

  His eyes narrowed and his face grew grim, but he didn’t respond.

  Aimee realized that he truly had no idea. This was getting weirder by the second. “You’re in Salvation. North Carolina,” she added just in case he didn’t know what state he was currently in. “Are you with the carnival?”

  “Salvation.” He said the name slowly and his entire body seemed to relax slightly. It was hard to tell for certain because his muscles were still rock hard. It was more an impression she had than any physical change in him.

  “The carnival?” she questioned, wanting him back on track. She needed to figure out what was going on.

  He came to his feet in one swift movement and slashed his arm out in front of him. She flinched away, scared by the sudden violence she sensed in him. He slowly lowered his arm back to his side. Aimee wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. There was too much sadness, too much desperation mirrored in his eyes.

  Roric went to one knee beside the bed and laid his right hand over his heart. “Everything that happened at the carnival was real.” He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts. “I would never hurt you, Aimee. I am one of seven warriors of an ancient goddess. It is my sworn duty to break the curse that has held me captive for more than five thousand years. You have set me free, and I must protect you from the demons that are coming for us bot
h. Then I must find a way to free the remaining warriors and find my Lady.”

  “Demons? Curse? Five thousand years?” Her head was spinning. Roric was obviously confused. She didn’t want to say crazy, but the word was there in the back of her mind, taunting her. Just her luck to bring home a guy who thought he’d been cursed for several thousand years and she’d set him free. He might be gorgeous, but he obviously needed help.

  Not that she was in any position to criticize. There were a lot of folks in town who thought she needed help too considering the type of artwork she’d produced over the years for the comic company. No flowers and fuzzy bunnies for her. No, she’d mostly illustrated scenes of the apocalypse, vampires, werewolves and paranormal stuff. Not to mention the hellish stuff she’d been producing lately.

  He shifted slightly, drawing her attention once again. “You don’t believe me.” His voice was flat and hard. His muscles tensed and his lips thinned.

  She had to keep him calm. “Of course I believe you.”

  Roric narrowed his eyes as he stood and placed his hands on his hips. Damn, the man was big. He had to be at least six and a half feet, and all of it solid muscle. He was also crazy. Still, for some strange reason she wasn’t afraid of him. Not really. She could sense the violence and anger swirling within him, but deep in her heart she knew it would never be turned against her.

  “No, you don’t.” He turned and strode to the window, bracing one arm on the frame as he peered out into her backyard and the forest beyond.

  Aimee sat on bed, unable to move, held captive by the vivid tattoo of a white tiger that covered Roric’s entire back. How she’d missed it last night, she’d never know. Of course, she’d been busy last night. But still. This was incredible.

  The beast stared back at her, familiar vivid blue eyes, broad nose and proud bearing. White fur striped with midnight black. Thick muscles and pure power, all controlled by a vast intelligence.