Claiming Their Royal Mate: Part One (3 page)

“This is insane.”

“Daniella—”

“You’re insane.” Her voice rose to a yell and she jumped off the bed to stand in front of him. Her fear was gone—he was glad to see that—but anger had replaced it. “What the hell are you even saying? Are you nuts or are you just messing with me?”

Shit. He had to show her. Something small, at least. Otherwise she might try to run. Hell, she might try to run after he showed her what he was, too. In that case, he’d have to wrestle her down.

Oh, yeah, smart. Wrestle down the woman in heat. See how that ends for you. You’ll be inside her in two seconds flat, fucking her for all you’re worth.

“Daniella. Look at me.” He wasn’t a royal—a tiger who could fully shift—but he wasn’t far from it.

Concentrating on his face, he forced images of his other form—a partial tiger—into the forefront of his mind. And with it, he pushed with his mind. His flesh moved, and the sensation distracted him. He almost forgot why he was shifting until a squeak of fear brought him back to himself.

Daniella had fallen back. She sat on the edge of the bed, wide-eyed and unblinking, her mouth partially open.

“You’re—”

“A weretiger. Like you.”

“But—your face.” She stared at him, fascinated, but no horror crossed her features. Instead, she simply appeared stunned, and more than a little intrigued.

He knew what his face looked like, and her reaction sent a rush of joy through him. If she hadn’t been shocked, he would have been surprised. It
wouldn’t
have surprised him, though, if she’d been disgusted.

Not that he was a bad-looking weretiger. In fact, he liked to joke with his Erick that he got the best of both creatures. Cat-like features on a very human frame, and unlike most of his kind, he could shift parts of himself without shifting into his entire partial form—handy if you needed a sharp claw but no whiskers. But he couldn’t turn into a full tiger.

Which was why she couldn’t be his. No matter how much he wanted her.

A shudder ran through her body. She glanced away from him and clutched her arms, hugging herself.

He was by her side before he could think better of it, kneeling in front of where she sat on the bed, and when she looked up, she started.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, then closed his eyes to concentrate on changing his face back to fully human.

When he opened his eyes, she stared at him, their faces only inches apart.

“That was cool.” The tiniest of grins blossomed on her face. “I wasn’t sure if I should run away or pet you.”

He smiled at her and she licked her lips.

Damn
.

“I need to make a phone call.” He pushed up from the floor. Yes, a call. Before he asked her to pet him.

“Wait.”

Barely trusting himself to not do something stupid, he turned to face her. She was so pretty in the delicate robe. So sexy. So vulnerable.

He could still taste her.

“This…heat. Or whatever. How do we make it go away?” she asked.

“Sex,” he said, simply, but he clenched his hands at his sides to keep from reaching for her. Sex wouldn’t actually bring her out of the heat, but it would give her a long reprieve. Maybe long enough to get through the heat. Maybe.

“Then why—”

“Because you aren’t meant for me. You belong to my best friend.”

“
W
hat
?” Anger rolled through her, pushing back some of the pulsating lust threatening to overwhelm her again. She jumped off his bed and stalked toward him. “What do you mean, I
belong
to your best friend? I’m my own person, Owen. No one owns me.”

“There are things happening here that you don’t understand.”

“Explain them to me.” How dare he? She was her own person. And this the twenty-first century.

“You have the ability to turn into a full tiger—or you will, with some training and practice. That’s rare, Daniella. Full tigers are known as royals among our people—even though they aren’t necessarily from the same bloodline. They breed with other royals. They keep our people strong.” Belief filled his eyes—he believed what he said was true, that this insane tradition was somehow necessary. But there was guilt there, too.

“So, what? I’m supposed to have a litter of kittens with a stranger for the good of some people I don’t even know? People I couldn’t care less about at this point?” The idea of it was so humiliating, so disgusting, she could barely wrap her mind around it.

“Yes. We’re not a fertile species—children are difficult to conceive, and impossible outside of the time when the female is in heat. Your first heat is the most powerful, and the most fertile time of your life. If we could give you more time—”

“This whole thing is bullshit.” Give her time? As if her time was theirs to give? She paced the room, finally noticing her surroundings. Other than the bed and a small dresser tucked into one corner, the room looked uninhabited. He’d been here nearly a year, since not long after she moved in. And it looked like he could have just moved in. It was all temporary for him. Just like watching her—a temporary duty. Something in her chest twisted at the thought.

“It’s the way things are done. For the good of the whole.”

“Well, screw your ways.” She stopped pacing, careful to stay a few feet away from him. Her voice softened, and she hated herself a little bit for asking because it probably sounded desperate, but it had to be said. “Why not you?”

“I have good control for a shifter—more powerful than most—but I can’t make a full change. I’m no royal. But my best friend is. That fact makes him our prime. Our leader.”

“Why is that so important? The full change thing?”

“It’s not easy to explain, but it’s not really about the form itself—it’s about the power it represents.” He paused, thinking. “Tigers don’t congregate well. We aren’t pack animals, like the wolves. It takes a powerful prime, a royal or—even better—a mated pair of royals to keep a clan together.”

That made sense, sort of. But why did they need to keep their people together? She almost asked, but her thoughts shifted to something far more important to her, far more personal. “How do you know I’m one of you—let alone I’m a…royal, or whatever?” A small, nervous laugh escaped her. “I’ve never changed into anything. What makes you so sure? I mean, how can you be certain?” The pitch of her voice rose with every word. She was on the edge of a major freak out—she could feel the panic growing in her chest. Concentrating on the details helped.

“If only one of your parents was a pureblood, you could go either way—royal or partial shifter. Those pairings are rare, because tigers raised among the clan know the importance of keeping royal bloodlines pure, but they do happen rarely. Like with my parents.” He cleared his throat. “When two royals breed, their children are nearly guaranteed to be royals. Both of your parents were purebloods, both royals.”

Were—not are. He referred to her parents in past tense. The questions were on the tip of her tongue. She’d wondered about her birth parents off and on since she’d found out as a teenager that she’d been adopted. But the importance of it had faded as she grew older—or she thought it had.

She couldn’t form the questions. Something about it felt like a trap. Like if she opened that door, he’d have her. He’d have something else to use to convince her of this madness.

“So you got the short end of the genetic stick,” she said, instead.

“Yes, unlike Erick,” he said. “Of course, he had two royal parents, so his lineage wasn’t quite the lottery mine was.”

“Well, screw your friend.”

“That’s the idea.” He gave her a small grin, but she refused to smile at his joke.

“Oh, fuck you, Owen.” She shook her head hard. “No. I’m not having sex with some stranger.”

His smile disappeared. “You will, Daniella. You won’t have a choice.”

She stopped pacing and stared at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“He’ll be here by morning. The heat will be back by then, in full.” His tone turned almost angry and his face hardened. “You’ll want him, then. You’ll need him. Hell, you’ll be ready to beg for it.”

She flew at him and slapped him across the face with all her strength and ire. He didn’t react to the slap; his head barely moved before his gaze returned to hers. But something behind his eyes took notice. And it was feral.

Inside of her, something reacted to the thing behind his eyes. Whatever it was, it wanted to attack him again. Push him. See if he was worthy.

What the fuck?

Panic rushed through her. He was right. The way she’d felt around him the last few hours…if it got worse and she was presented with a man who elicited in her the same rush of need as Owen, she’d be lost. And some part of her wanted it. The tiger part—if she could believe Owen.

No. She wasn’t a tiger. And she definitely wasn’t going to let hormones of any kind decide her fate.

“Fine, then, I’ll leave. Unless you plan on trying to keep me here by force,” she said.

A flash of something crossed his hard features. Regret? She couldn’t be sure.

“Of course not. I’m not a kidnapper. But there are dangers out there, Daniella. Frightening things that would love the chance at a vulnerable weretiger.”

“Like what?”

“Vampires, for one. We’re rare, and quite valued as pets. And worse things.”

Her laugh was hysterical, but she was beyond caring. “Vampires. Of course. Why wouldn’t there be vampires, too?”

He didn’t reply, and she blinked back the tears threatening to blind her. Time was of the essence; even as her anger faded slightly, the lust inside of her surged. Soon, she wouldn’t be able to think clearly.

“Fine,” she said, looking away from him. She swiped at a single tear that had escaped to run down her cheek. “I thought that we had something here. Or, I did, before you quit talking to me and started treating me like some sort of pariah.”

“Daniella—”

“No.” He didn’t get to talk. Didn’t deserve the chance to placate her with his excuses—his bullshit traditions and medieval people. “If you don’t care enough to claim me for yourself, then I guess your best friend will have to do. Hopefully, he’s more of a man than you are. Or is that more of a tiger than you?” Hysteria lurked inside, barely under her control.

She looked up to see a mixture of shock and rage and lust crossing his features. His hands shook at his sides, and he looked like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hit her or fuck her.

“You don’t know how hard this is. I do care about you. It makes this a million times more difficult. But my duty—”

“Is more important than me. What I want. More important, even, than what you want. I get it.” She shook her head, pain building in her chest that had nothing to do with her so-called heat. “Stupid thing is, I wanted you before this heat thing started. And I was dumb enough to hope that you wanted me, too.”

A low growl cut through the air. Before she even registered he’d moved, he was on her. His lips met hers, ferocious and demanding. He didn’t ask—he took.

The heat surged in her, immediately reacting to his onslaught. No matter how angry she was with him, her body still wanted his. And deep down, she cared about Owen. Sex with someone she cared about, someone she wanted even without this stupid heat, was infinitely more appealing to her than sex with a total stranger, especially in this insane situation.

He pulled her against him, and for once his body felt as hot as her own. Skin crawling with need, she wrapped herself around him, molding her body to his, returning his kiss eagerly.

Then she was on the bed, his large body covering hers, his hands cradling her face.

“Do you have any idea how much I’ve wanted you?” he said, his voice gruff. “All those nights of watching old movies. The days of watching you, making sure you were safe.”

“No,” she said, honestly. There had been times when she thought she’d felt the weight of his gaze, only to glance at him and find he wasn’t even looking at her. “The women I saw you bring home…you were good at hiding it. ”

“I had to be. And those women were nothing to me, but I needed…otherwise, I might have come to you, and I couldn’t risk that. But I didn’t fuck them. I couldn’t.”

The question was on the tip of her tongue. What exactly had he done with those women? Lust shifted in her chest, colored by a sudden spike of jealousy. Her rational mind knew she shouldn’t be jealous—they hadn’t been a couple, or even dating. And she’d been the epitome of off limits to him.

But she didn’t care. She was jealous anyway.

His hand slid up to cup her breast and lust rushed back. She hadn’t even noticed her robe had opened at some point while they kissed. A shudder ran through her as he slid a rough thumb over her nipple. “There wasn’t a single night you were here that I didn’t have to struggle against a hard-on.”

“You really wanted me that much?” she whispered, trying to maintain the thread of their conversation while her mind fragmented, seeking only the sensations his body could bring.

A low chuckle escaped him. “If you knew how many times I’ve thought of you. How many times I’ve had to jack off just to keep myself from breaking your door down and taking you.”

An image flashed in her mind. Owen in the shower, stroking the long, hard cock she could feel against her thigh while thinking of her. Coming with her name on his lips.

Damn
.

Her sex clenched at the thought, and she kissed him so he’d stop looking at her. So he wouldn’t see how crazed the idea made her. But he pulled back, grinning.

“You like that, don’t you?” Owen asked, not at all fooled. “The idea of me thinking of you. You want to know what I imagined? Your lips, stretched around my cock. Your pussy, hot and wet and waiting for me. Licking your pussy while you beg me to take you. I’ve got a million fantasies surrounding you, Daniella. Taking you every way possible.” His lips brushed her ear, sending a tingle down her neck. “I intend to explore every one of those fantasies. And more.”

The heat pulsed through her, mixing with her own desire, and she writhed against his hard, immoveable frame as his tongue plunged into her mouth.

He kissed and licked his way down the curve of her neck, and she slid her hands down his muscled back. Everywhere he touched, it felt like electricity flowed from him into her. Sparking and shooting pulses straight to her core.

“Need you, Owen.” She gritted her teeth against the sensation. She felt empty. Swollen. Like she might burst if he wasn’t inside of her right this instant.

But Owen wouldn’t be hurried. He pulled her nipple into his mouth and sucked hard.

As the pain mixed with pleasure almost pushed her over the edge, she cried out and gripped his hair He growled and licked her other nipple. It was almost too much, everywhere but where she needed him most. She writhed beneath him, trying to ease the unbearable pressure building in her core. But he refused to touch her between her legs; instead, he took his time with her, as if they had all the time in the world.

His rough hands and soft mouth slid down the curvature of her neck, over her breasts, and across her abdomen. He kissed her mouth softly, tasting her, before returning to his barrage on the rest of her body.

Tears pricked her eyes, the need building to such a degree that her mind wasn’t sure if it was pleasure or pain.

“Owen,” she managed, her voice carrying all the desperation she felt.

“What do you need, kitten?”

Their gazes locked. He wasn’t as unaffected as his onslaught had suggested. His irises appeared almost inhuman, and his expression was animalistic, despite his very human appearance.

“Need you. Please.”

His hand went between them and her hips surged up, trying to meet it. But he was prepared for her response, and he pulled his hand back.

“None of that,” he said, and the authority in his voice stilled her.

“Good,” he murmured, never moving his gaze from hers. Very softly, his hand slid against her, grazing her clit softly. She moaned, almost beyond thought. And when the thick digit slid inside her, she bucked against him.

“What do you want, beautiful?”

She writhed and moaned, unable to form words.

His hand moved from where he’d teased her to grab her hair and tug. The small bit of pain sent a shot of need straight to her sex, but also brought her a bit of focus.

“Say it,” he said.

What did he want her to say? She struggled to think.

“Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

Part of her rebelled against the command in his tone, but her body shivered in need, and the authority in his voice only made the need worse.

“Please,” she managed.

“Please what?” His voice offered none of the softness his gentle assault had just shown her body.

“Fuck me.”

He growled, and the next thing she knew, he’d flipped her around, onto her hands and knees. Her robe was gone. She looked over her shoulder, and saw him shimmy out of his boxer briefs. The material was wet—from her excitement or his, she wasn’t sure. His cock bobbed between his legs, hard and thick and long enough to make her knees shake.

He closed the short distance between them, his face a mask of concentration and lust. He slid a hand down her back and then gripped her hip, holding her still. She could feel him, sliding the tip of his hard dick over her entrance, and a low cry escaped her. She arched her back, trying to take him.

She let out a scream from the sudden fullness, the almost perfect rush of satisfaction that rolled over her. The orgasm hit, pounding through her from where they were joined to touch every part of her body. Distantly, she could feel him start to move.