A Sinful Tiger

Brenda Williamson

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Escaping her abusive boyfriend is easy: just abandon him during a sailing trip to the Caribbean. But when a storm traps Devra on a sandbar of an island cove, she's forced to go ashore. There, disoriented by too much wine, and vuln...
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Escaping her abusive boyfriend is easy: just abandon him during a sailing trip to the Caribbean. But when a storm traps Devra on a sandbar of an island cove, she's forced to go ashore. There, disoriented by too much wine, and vulnerable to affection, a mysterious man seduces her into bed, and leaves her thinking he's the tiger from her erotic dreams.

Gannon lives by the curse of a voodoo priestess. By day a man, by night an animal, he struggles against the affliction that makes him especially dangerous to women. Then he encounters Devra. His instincts as the tiger demand he mate with her, but as a man, he fights the urge until her sultry plea defeats his human will.

Can passion cure a curse when an old evil surrounds the lovers? Only time will tell if her beauty can tame his beast.

  • Note:This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal sex, exhibitionism, homoerotic sex (female/female), sex while in shifted animal form, violence, voyeurism.
Devra shuffled to the bench along the back of the boat and sat. Hot and sticky because of the sun and sea air, she removed her two-piece swimsuit. She checked her sore arms and legs for signs of bruising, thankful she was still alive.

The liquor bottle from the day before rolled across the deck when the boat tilted the opposite way. She picked up the bane responsible for most of her headache, and removed the cap. Placing the mouth of the bottle to her lips, she looked for the easy way to cure a hangover, the hair of the beast, so they said. One large gulp, and she shook from head to toe. The rum had a powerful kick she hadn’t remembered. But then during the storm, she had been too frightened to think about the flavor of the liquid and how it had burned her throat.

Naked, disoriented, and tired, she had trouble focusing on her predicament. A few more swallows of the rum took the edge off her worries and dulled her headache. Needing the rest, she laid down on the tacky vinyl seat with her eyes closed. Her thoughts wandered. From stranded on an island, to her abusive boyfriend, Jerry, and how she’d left him, nothing looked good about her day. It helped when she finally directed her mind to a recurring dream -- an erotic encounter both shocking and shameful.

Devra opened her legs wider at the first rasp of his velvet tongue. Thrust into the decadent craving of an orgasm, she undulated against the wonderful sensations. Tingling nerves soon made her thighs tremble and her insides spasm.

She begged him to sate her lust by using his skilled touch to feed her addiction. “Oh, please,” she pleaded, seeking a state of euphoria that left her mind free of troubles.

The flick of his long tongue tickled the ring of her anus every time he started the tease to her sex. Unable to wait for him to nudge her into place, she lifted her hips, offering him the entrance to her yearning body. He stimulated her with one thrust, forceful and exciting. With instant shudders, she dripped with anticipation.

“Yes,” she gasped.

His tongue made contact again, taking a different route over her quivering flesh. He parted her nether lips and the silky wetness swirled around her aching clit, tempting it from the hooded sanctuary.

“Now, please, before I explode.”

She tensed -- too far into her sexual awakening to fight the shock waves of an orgasm.

The soft brush of his chest hairs gliding over her back stirred and enthused her in new ways. His delay aroused other parts of her body as the drenching release passed. She needed him.

“Please.” She pressed her bottom back into him, ready to have him take her farther into a sexual oblivion.

Sniffing her neck and licking her ear, his body weighted her down, as if she needed to be restrained. His large cock dangled between her wet thighs. His belly slid gently over her bottom. His arousal thrashed against the sensitive insides of her thighs until he leaned in and pushed the knob of his shaft upon her yawning entrance.

“Oh, yes,” she cried. “Oh, God, yes.”

Devra arched back and shoved herself onto the impact of his cock’s deep penetration. His erection expanded, widening the channel, filling her completely. A strangely foreign sound, part grunt, part whine, rushed from her open mouth.

His teeth raked her back with impassioned kisses, and she shuddered at the enthralling danger. Except as hard as he had heaved into her, his plunge didn’t reach the spot inside her vaginal walls that would bring pure ecstasy.

“Harder,” she demanded, needing to feel the pulse of his arousal.

Her shadow lover obeyed and slammed into her.

“Yes, like that,” she encouraged. “More.”

Over and over, he drove his thick cock into her hot channel, stretching her to accommodate the wide girth of his shaft. His groans steadily increased in pitch. Deep guttural reverberations quickened and fear threaded around her. She didn’t want him to climax before she was ready.

With an overwhelming blend of emotions, Devra cried out each time he withdrew and plunged. The beautiful moment of complete abandon was capped by a glorious orgasm. Every muscle within her sex constricted. But her mysterious lover never gave the slightest hesitation to her tightening core. He plunged into her abyss with solid, rhythmic strokes. The well of her body went dry, and the friction from his moves inflamed her insides.

“Don’t stop.” Her voice barely rose above a whisper.

Animalistic sounds of unbridled pleasure hummed in panting beats next to her head. Trying to keep up the same energetic verve weakened her, yet his primitive aggression made her tremble with a rejuvenating liveliness. She rubbed her bottom against him, and searched for relief to the fiery heat of sexual stimulation.

A second orgasm made Devra lightheaded. Her weary arms buckled, and her face hit the sand. In her sedated repose, she stared, entranced by the horizon of the red sky over a sea of blue.

She lay numb in a blissful rapture, listening to her lover, his ragged breath panting in tempo with her exhausted gasps. His non-stop jabs jolting her against the sand chaffed her nipples and burned her cheek; she was delighted he continued to drive into her.

His cock swelled with each penetration. Her body gave way, and her depths accepted his length. Their limbs and torsos mated like two puzzle pieces in a perfect fit.

When his caterwauling roar ripped the tranquility surrounding them, Devra shivered. He pulled her to her knees, and she dropped her head back to the pleasurable sensation of him nibbling at her jaw. Heated whispers caressed her ear and she writhed with pleasure upon the hardness of his chest.

“You’re mine,” he growled.

“Yes,” she readily agreed.

“You’ll be the tiger’s mate.”

“Yes.” She twisted her head, loving the movement of his lips down her neck.

“Forever.” His possessive hold reinforced his statement.

“Forever,” she repeated and cupped the large hand holding one of her breasts.

He squeezed and massaged her tender nipple until she wove her fingers with his and moved his hand to her other breast. She clung to his knuckles while he kneaded her flesh. He kept her arched at the right angle for his cock to stay buried in her. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the tender kisses on her shoulder. She thought how nice it would be to fall asleep as her lover held her.

His hands, moving exquisitely against her flesh, did not draw her out of the peaceful abyss she drifted toward. His purring voice comforted, and she nestled into his embrace.

Yet, even in sleep, she confused the man with a beast and vice versa. Her imagination tangled all the fibers of her being into lusting for something she didn’t understand.

Devra felt driven to desire by the touch of a sinful tiger.

Copyright © Brenda Williamson


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