TAVRIC
When the Princess shivers under my touch, Ryker purrs, jumps, and immediately tries to seize the reins.
'Not now, big man,' I muse darkly, straining every muscle to leash him. But my control is a paper shield against the wildfire in my blood, and utterly powerless against the ache below my belt. My little man is already standing to attention, responding to the magnetic heat of my mate.
I know the exact second she notices. But instead of backing away—and I would have let her run, would have let her escape so I could beat back this swarming need—she looks down.
She stares at the microscopic distance my arousal has put between us. Then, her mouth parting just a fraction, she looks up at me with those rounded blue eyes, now swirling with dangerous flecks of gold.
Seeing her like that—seeing the desire humming in those depths, feeling the silk of her bare skin, and scenting the sharp tang of her arousal—pushes me to the brink.
