Taming the Fire by Sydney Croft Page A

made him jump.
    He opened the door with his heart pounding, prepared to do whatever he needed to do to subdue the beast, and found Rik on the other side. One look in her eyes and he saw the beast fighting for control. But the woman, she was still there.
    Without saying a word, he moved to the side and she strode in, still in her thigh-high boots, a long leather coat swishing around her legs as she moved.
    “I came to check on you. To make sure you were all right,” she purred, the sound making his cock harden and twitch in seconds. He'd been in a half-aroused state since he'd left the dungeon, despite the intense orgasm.
    “I'm all right.”
    “Why do you keep lying to me, boy? I know you enjoyed yourself tonight, but I also know you're far from fine.” She raised her head slightly, closed her eyes and breathed in. The wounds on his chest were closing quickly now that he'd left them alone, but not quick enough. The struggle for control poured off her in waves.
    He wanted those mile-long legs wrapped around his waist, wanted his cock so deep inside her that she couldn't think of her collar or the beast—couldn't think of anyone or anything beyond him. And as he wondered where the hell that urge came from, she pushed against him with a flat palm to his chest. She was adrenaline-filled, stronger than she'd been at the club, and he smelled the power and the fear wafting off her skin.
    Once he closed the door, she hooked her hand around the back of his neck to pull him close. He complied because that's what she wanted, what she expected.
    He complied because he no longer knew what he needed anymore.
    U LRIKA WAS going to kiss him.
    She'd only kissed one other man, an Itor Seducer whose job it had been to train her in the sensual arts. Her time with Masanao had been pleasant—he had been one of the few people at Itor to show her kindness. But ultimately, she'd been a job to him, and he'd been a welcome break from the experiments and tests that seemed to go on twenty-four seven.
    Now there were no tests, no Itor and no sex club. Just Trance and his stark flat, and his lips an inch away from hers.
    She hesitated at the last moment. She didn't remember getting here, didn't truly understand why she'd come. In her culture, blood was sacred—not to be drawn lightly. And never, ever did one draw blood without a life-or-death reason. You either killed what you'd bloodied… or you mated with it.
    Until Trance opened the door, she truly hadn't been sure what she'd intended. The beast wanted to finish off what it had injured. The woman… well, she might want sex, but a true Blooded Mating, complete with a ritual to bond them together in marriage? Not so much. Oh, she wanted that, but she had long ago given up the dream.
    “Kiss me, Rik.”
    “Yes…” She brushed her lips across Trance's hard, firm mouth—and then realized he'd given her another order. And she'd followed it. With a curse, she shoved away from him. “You do not speak like that to me.”
    A flash of some emotion she couldn't name crossed his face, and then he was in hers, one hand gripping her upper arm with gentle strength. “We aren't at the club. You're in my house now.”
    Alarm tripped through her. God, this had been stupid. She shouldn't have come here, shouldn't have risked letting him take the upper hand. That she didn't remember getting here didn't matter. It was just more proof that she couldn't control herself and shouldn't be making any kind of attempt to live around humans. She should have made her way to the wilderness a long time ago, let the beast reign, survive or die as nature willed it.
    “Remove your hand,” she ground out. “Or you lose it.”
    “And then what?” He leaned in, so close his lips brushed her ear. “Will you let me do to you what I said earlier? Will you let me spank your pretty little ass, or will I have to just take the initiative?”
    She didn't have a chance to so much as gasp in outrage, because he spun her, took her