The Mating

The Mating

He was watching her; she knew it. She could feel his eyes in her back, the heat of his gaze that was both man and animal. The mere thought, the knowledge that he hid among the tress and observed her, made her tingle all over, one part coming deliciously alive after another, like his fingers touching each and then moving on.

She was drawn in ways more basic than a human itch, because not only did the woman ache to feel pleasure at a man’s hands again after so long, but the tigress part of her very soul sensed a virile male and would not be denied. It was an urging that had kept their species alive, more potent than any emotion.

And they both knew she had no choice where he was concerned.

--

She was sitting along in the living room, debating with herself in the cocooning dark. She no longer sensed him near, but she knew that all she had to do was step outside to catch his unique scent on the wind. Tonight was the night, her body knew it. She had forestalled the meeting for so long…there was no way to push the tigress down any more. She demanded fulfillment, and she didn’t even know anymore why she was fighting.

--

He had been waiting for her. The fire was stoked high, the bed of furs was soft and warm not far from the blaze. He had food packed away in a cooler off to the side, because he knew they both would be hungry later on.

He wasn’t surprised when she appeared out of the darkness, her hair loose, wearing a thin robe that was being pulled and teased at by the wind.

She let her cloak drop—and the nakedness underneath jerked him into painful awareness. When the wave had crested through him, he smiled, wildly aroused as he had rarely been before. She didn’t play around.

Good, he thought, pulling her softer body down to his and unfastening his jeans, neither will I….

--

She was exhausted; it was obvious in the way she slept. It wasn’t unbelievable—the night they had shared had been wild and full. They’d barely rested between bouts, their energy being drained and spent, then tossed back up to the stars, and then reduced even lower. How many times they had mated, he didn’t know because the number was beyond his recollection. But he’d never before had a night so fulfilling.

He was still tired, but watching her warmed him.

“Good morning,” he said when she opened her eyes and stretched.

“’Morning,” she replied. When she took in the state of his undress, she smiled, and a blush crept up her cheeks. Instantly he hardened, going back down to the furs with her in his arms.

--

She sighed with the memories that refused to leave her alone. It had been nearly two weeks since her fertile cycle had ended, since they had parted ways. It hadn’t been her first cycle, but she knew it would always been on of her most memorable.

The human part of her mourned the sudden abandonment of her lover. The human part of her made a connection between the sex they had had and the rest of their lives. But the tigress could only smile and purr with the satisfaction that she had ridden him as hard as he had ridden her. The tigress part of her realized that he had left and accepted it as part of the natural cycle. The tiger in him probably did as well.

But that didn’t stop the hope from bubbling up that he would be back next year.