Page 32 of Ignited

He was filled with a desperate need to touch that untouchable part of her, to slide underneath her fear and mistrust to a place he could sense that no one had ever been to.

To show her he could go there and not destroy her.

Slowly, he slid his cock into her, until he was sheathed all the way inside her, balls deep, his breath coming hard because he could barely hold back.

Karisma moaned, wrapping her legs around him like she wanted him even deeper, and he pulled almost all the way out and thrust in again, hearing himself make that sound that was half-growl, half moan because nothing—nothing had ever come close to feeling like this.

He drove into her again and again, holding back just a little so he could find a rhythm that would make this last forever, hitting her clit just right until she dug her claws into him again and moved against him, taking him even deeper, her purr turning to a growl to match his.

He felt the explosion building in him, the light and the heat and the need. They clung to each other, moving hard and fast now, taking and giving and touching every part of each other.

He felt her getting to the edge, felt them both getting to the edge, and then they were there, that beautiful moment where everything went up in flames, where you felt the angel of death rush over you and pass you by, and you were amazingly, gloriously alive.

They clung together, riding the shock waves, until the debris of who they used to be came floating down around them.

Chapter 15

In the middle of the night, Boomer surfaced out of sleep. Something wasn’t right. There was a buzzing in his ear, like a giant mosquito, and his bedroom smelled hot and feline. And Bro hadn’t come back. He was still out there—so far away Boomer could barely feel him.

That knowledge woke him all the way up like a tiny knife to the stomach, bringing him to a sitting position—and he realized what the buzzing sound was. He was in bed with a full-on, seven-foot Siberian tiger—and she was purring in her sleep.

Boomer sat there for a minute, running his hands through his hair. He’d just had a mind-blowing sexual experience, here in this bed with a woman he’d fantasized about for years.

And now she was a tiger. On top of that, he didn’t know how she was going to feel about him—and what just happened between them—when she was human again.

Now he had two crazy half-wild animals on his hands—her and his bro. And he felt responsible for them both, which was a thing he really didn’t need to deal with in the middle of the night.

But here he was.

He got up and padded naked out of the cabin, out to the front porch. The night was frosty-cold, but the air was fresh and clean, and his latest problems weren’t right fucking in front of him.

He Changed, tilted his head back and gave a long wolf howl, letting it spread out into the wilderness and up to the stars.

Then he waited. He didn’t think Bro was close enough to hear or answer, but if he was, Boomer wanted him to know he hadn’t forgotten him. That they were still looking out for each other.

The night was still and silent. In the distance, he heard a couple of howls from other members of the pack, just friendly acknowledgements. They knew he wasn’t talking to them.

Nothing from Bro.

Boomer Changed back, activated his dog tags, and said, “Hey, buddy. Just checking in. You okay?”

Nothing.

He bit his lips. Something was wrong. Not danger, not an injury. Nothing like that. Something inside Bro’s head. He was spiraling down, and sometimes when wolves spiraled into the dark place, they went wolf and didn’t come back.

Deep down, he’d always lived in fear that would happen to Bro one day.

Please the gods, not today. Because he couldn’t go out looking right now, even if he had to.

He had Karisma to worry about, and no idea what to do with her. Although, having sex with her had probably been the total wrong move, for at least six different reasons.

Not the least of which, it made him feel things he didn’t know how to handle.

There was still no sound from his brother—not from the dog tags, and not from a howl on the wind.

He’s fine, Boomer told himself uneasily. He does this all the time. He said into the dog tags, “Call me if you need me.”

Still nothing. He sighed, rubbed his hands through his hair, and went back inside. Karisma was still asleep, taking up three-quarters of the bed.