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The Gripping Beast copyright 2005 Charlene Teglia
Samhain Publishing, all rights reserved
ISBN: 1-59998-005-3
Release date: Feb. 7, 2006
He started towards the shelter she’d just left, taking her arm with him and leaving her no choice but to follow along or get dragged. “Cut it out! You’re going to leave a bruise if you don’t let up!”
He adjusted his grip but otherwise gave no indication that he’d heard a word she said. Lorelei supposed she should be grateful for small favors, but as he continued dragging her back to the cabin, she didn’t see much to be grateful for. She’d just gotten out. If he wanted her back indoors, she wasn’t going to cooperate. She deliberately dragged her feet and forced him to carry her full weight in silent protest.
Being silent didn’t sit well with her, though.
“You’re acting like a barbarian,” she ground out between clenched teeth, in case his behavior had escaped his notice. “You can’t just haul me around like this.”
“I can do whatever I wish with you.”
The cold, grim voice hit right on her aggravation button, and she’d already had enough to keep her in a fighting mood for a week even without the choice of words.
“Wrong,” she snapped.
When he didn’t answer she planted her feet and leaned back until he looked at her. “Answer when I’m fighting with you, buster.”
He looked faintly incredulous.
“You demand that I fight you?”
It was kind of ridiculous, put like that. Lorelei felt her anger evaporating, and humor twitched at the corner of her mouth.
“I guess it is kind of funny,” she admitted. Then she giggled. The giggles grew to full laughter at the disbelief in his eyes. She had demanded, actually demanded, that this overgrown behemoth fight her. It was too absurd. She laughed until her side ached, and then she slumped against him, panting, while she recovered. She didn’t even protest when he finished hauling her back to her now-familiar fur.
Or when he threw her down on it and followed suit himself.
Until the grim look in his eye combined with the grip on the contested dress told her where he was headed.
She froze. Her mind was racing a million miles an hour, but her body was just frozen like a deer caught in the oncoming headlights of a semi. She’d been the focus of plenty of masculine attention. But she’d never been on the receiving end of anything like this. He looked like a conquering hero bent on taking what he wanted, and he wanted her. Some dark part of her stirred to life and wondered what it would be like to be taken by this man. To be seized and captured and sexually dominated.
Maybe she was about to find out. One thing she knew for certain, she was fully aware of him. He had her attention in a way no other man had ever managed. She knew the feminine awareness and dark curiosity showed her eyes and she didn’t care. She waited, unable to do anything else, and wondered what he would do next.
She wasn’t afraid of him, exactly, although there was a certain amount of fear and it added an erotic edge to the moment. But underneath that was something else. From the beginning she’d stood up to him without hesitation. Why? Because she was used to calling the shots? Or because on an instinctual level she knew he could be trusted?
The answer came instantly. Because he could be trusted.
He might consider her his to possess, but she didn’t really believe he would hurt her. Although she couldn’t really be sure of anything, and that uncertainty mixed with the sexually charged tension between them and ignited it.
His face was expressionless, but his eyes were burning as they held hers. He unfastened her pin with unhurried hands and set it aside. And then he lifted her slightly and stripped the gown from her in one fluid motion, leaving her naked and exposed.
But his eyes remained on hers and she held his gaze. Fascination. That was the only word for this. She was utterly focused on him, captivated by him, his captive in her mind and her unexpected physical response. In that moment, she didn’t think she could or would resist anything he wanted of her.
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