Tiger's Claim

Again

Theo’s lips were a dry, deliberate press against her forehead, a gesture of closure to the raw sanctuary of the night. Sienna felt the imprint linger, a warm brand on her skin. Then, before he could pull back to the safe distance of caretaker, she shifted. Her mouth found his.

It wasn’t a deep kiss. It was soft, a question mark against the firm line of his lips, lasting only a breath. But it was hers. She initiated it. She ended it, leaning back just enough to see his face.

Theo went utterly still. The winter in his eyes thawed into pure, unguarded shock. A beat passed, silent and vast. Then, slowly, the corner of his mouth twitched. It unfurled into a full, genuine grin—a rare, sun-cracking-ice expression that transformed his harsh features. “Well,” he said, his voice a low rumble of amusement.

He didn’t move to reclaim the kiss. He just looked at her, the grin softening into something quieter, more wondering. His thumb came up to brush her lower lip, a feather-light touch. “So,” he said, the word hanging between them. “Do you want to stay in this bed? Or go look for wood for the crib?”

Sienna watched him. The early light cut across the planes of his face, highlighting the scar along his jaw, the stubble darkening his skin. His body was a solid warmth against hers, one heavy arm still draped over her waist. The cabin was silent except for their breathing. The nursery waited, empty. The forest called, a whisper she could feel in her bones.

She let her gaze drift from his eyes to his mouth, then back. A slow, deliberate journey. Her hand, which had been resting on his chest, slid upward. Her fingertips grazed the base of his throat, feeling his pulse. It was steady, but fast. “The wood is important,” she said, her voice still husky with sleep.

Theo’s pulse jumped under her touch. “It is.”

“But the bed is warm.”

“It is,” he agreed, his voice dropping.

Her fingers traced the line of his collarbone, over the ridge of a old, knotted scar. “You asked me to choose.”

“I did.”

“I’m choosing to stay.” She said it plainly, but her eyes held a challenge, a flicker of the wildfire. “For now.”

Theo’s arm tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against him. The hard length of his erection pressed against her thigh, a frank, heated demand. He made no attempt to hide it. “For now,” he echoed, a promise and a threat.

He didn’t kiss her. He studied her. His eyes traveled over her face, the sleep-tousled hair fanned across his pillow, the slope of her shoulder where the blanket had fallen. His gaze was a physical touch, slower and more thorough than his hands had been. Sienna felt her skin prickle in its wake, a flush spreading down her chest. Her own breath shallowed.

His hand left her waist. It moved up, over the curve of her hip, the dip of her waist, coming to rest just beneath the swell of her breast. He didn’t cup it. He just held his palm there, a barrier of heat. His thumb began to move, a slow, rhythmic sweep along the sensitive underside. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Sienna’s n****e tightened into a hard peak against the rough linen of his sheet. A small, sharp gasp escaped her. Theo’s eyes flicked to hers, watching the reaction his thumb was causing. He didn’t smile. His expression was one of intense focus, as if he were reading her body like a map.

“You’re so soft here,” he murmured, his thumb continuing its maddening arc. “Softer than you were.”

Her pregnancy. The changes. He was cataloging them, learning this new terrain of her. The intimacy of it, the clinical observation laced with reverence, made her ache. She arched into his hand, a silent plea.

Theo finally closed the distance. He took her mouth, and this kiss was nothing like hers. It was deep, claiming, a slow invasion that tasted of sleep and him. He licked into her, his tongue stroking hers with a lazy, possessive rhythm that mirrored the movement of his thumb. Sienna moaned into his mouth, her hands coming up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer.

He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged. He trailed his lips down her jaw, her throat, pausing to suck lightly at the frantic pulse there. “I want to taste you,” he said against her skin, the words vibrating through her. “Everywhere you’re softer.”

He shifted down the bed, the blanket dragging away with him. The cool morning air hit her skin, raising goosebumps. Theo’s hands hooked under her knees, gently spreading her legs. He settled between them, but he didn’t lower his head. He just looked.

Sienna was exposed, utterly. Her belly a gentle curve, the thatch of dark hair between her thighs glistening with her arousal. She felt a flush of self-consciousness, but it was burned away by the heat in his gaze. He wasn’t just looking. He was worshipping.

“You’re dripping,” he said, his voice thick. He reached out a single finger and ran it through her folds, from back to front. He brought that finger to his lips, never breaking eye contact, and sucked it clean. His eyes fluttered shut for a second. “f**k. Sienna.”

Then he bent his head.

His mouth on her cunt was not a gentle exploration. It was a claiming. A flat, broad stroke of his tongue from her entrance to her c**t that made her cry out, her back bowing off the bed. He groaned against her, the sound vibrating through her most sensitive flesh. He did it again, slower, savoring the taste, the texture.

He settled into a rhythm, his hands gripping her thighs, holding her open. His tongue was relentless. It circled her c**t, firm and precise, then lapped at her opening, drinking her in. He’d bury his face in her, his nose nudging her c**t, and breathe deep, a predator scenting his mate. Then he’d return to the slow, torturous circles.

Sienna was unraveling. Her hips rocked against his mouth, seeking more pressure, a faster pace. He denied her. He controlled the rhythm, the pressure, drawing out every sensation until she was sobbing, her fingers clenched in his hair, pulling, begging. “Theo… please…”

He pulled back, his chin slick with her. His eyes were black with want. “Please what?”

“I need…”

“You need to come?” he asked, his thumb replacing his tongue, rubbing tight, quick circles. “Is that it?”

“Yes!”

“Then come.” He said it like an order, and he dipped his head again, sucking her c**t into his mouth as his thumb continued its work.

The orgasm tore through her, violent and deep. It was a wave of pure white heat that started in her core and radiated out to her fingertips, her toes. She screamed, her body locking rigid, then convulsing against his mouth. Theo rode it out with her, his tongue gentling, lapping at her through the pulses until she was a trembling, oversensitive wreck.

He crawled back up her body, his own need evident in the strained set of his jaw, the desperate hunger in his kiss as he reclaimed her mouth. She could taste herself on him, salty and musky, and it sparked a fresh, dizzying wave of desire.

“Inside,” she panted against his lips. “I need you inside.”

Theo reached between them, his hand wrapping around his c**k. He was thick, veined, the head flushed dark and leaking. He guided himself to her entrance, pressing against her soaked, swollen flesh. He didn’t push in. He just held himself there, letting her feel the blunt pressure, the promise of the stretch.

“Look at me,” he growled.

Sienna forced her eyes open, meeting his stormy gaze.

He pushed in. An inch. A slow, burning invasion that made her gasp. He stopped, his whole body trembling with the effort. “Okay?”

She nodded, words beyond her. She was so full already, so sensitized from her climax. He pushed in another inch, then another, a relentless, slow conquest that stretched her exquisitely. When he was fully sheathed, buried to the hilt, he dropped his forehead to hers. A ragged groan was torn from his chest. “God. You feel… you’re perfect.”

He didn’t move. He just stayed there, embedded in her, letting her body adjust, letting them both feel the profound connection of it. His c**k throbbed inside her. Her cunt clenched around him in a slow, involuntary pulse. He shuddered.

Then he began to move. Not a frantic pounding, but a deep, rolling rhythm. Each withdrawal was slow, almost reluctant. Each thrust was a deliberate, measured return home. The angle was perfect, the head of his c**k stroking a spot inside her that made her see stars. The wet, slick sound of their joining filled the quiet room.

His eyes never left hers. He watched every flicker of pleasure on her face, every gasp, every whimper. He was learning her all over again, in this new way. One of his hands slid between them, his fingers finding her c**t, already swollen and sensitive. He rubbed in time with his thrusts, a gentle, persistent pressure.

“Again,” he commanded, his voice guttural. “Come for me again. With me inside you.”

The coil tightened, impossibly fast. The dual stimulation, the depth of his thrusts, the raw possession in his eyes—it was too much. Her second climax hit her, a deeper, more consuming wave than the first. It milked his c**k, her inner muscles fluttering and gripping him in tight, rhythmic spasms.

Theo’s control shattered. A raw, broken sound ripped from his throat. He drove into her once, twice more, deep and final, and she felt the hot pulse of his release filling her. He collapsed onto her, careful of her belly, his face buried in her neck, his body shuddering through the last of his pleasure.

For long minutes, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing, the beat of their hearts slowing against each other. Theo’s weight was a comforting anchor. His softening c**k was still inside her, a tender, intimate connection.

Finally, he shifted, slipping out of her. He didn’t go far. He rolled to his side, pulling her with him, tucking her back against his chest. His arm banded around her, his hand splayed possessively over her belly. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

The sun was higher now, painting a bright rectangle on the floor. The forest still waited. The crib still needed wood.

Theo’s voice was a sleepy rumble against her ear. “For now is over.”

Sienna smiled, a small, private curve of her lips. She placed her hand over his on her stomach. “Now,” she said, “we go find the perfect tree.”