Lair of the Lion

ear. "Take me out of here, please, Nicolai."
    He lifted her into his arms, picked her up as if her weight were no more than that of a child. For a moment he was motionless, with the stillness of a predator, his face buried in her hair, and then he moved, powerful muscles bunching beneath his clothing, his stride silent and sure as he glided through the long halls to her bedchamber.
    Isabella felt his mouth on her neck, his lips velvet soft, a brush of a caress, no more, but edgy need was crawling into her body. She tilted her head up to his in blatant invitation, wanting the rush of fire, wanting to blot out everything but the feel of him, the scent of him.
    His mouth found hers instantly, hot and possessive. His fist tangled in her hair, pulling her head back as his booted foot kicked the door closed behind them, sealing them away from the rest of the household. "It was quick thinking to hold the lion from attack, but very dangerous. I don't know how you managed it, but you must never do such a foolish thing again. You terrify me with your courage." He pressed her against a wall, his body hard against hers. Nicolai kissed her again, hard and wild, hunger rising fast and furiously. "You terrify me," he whispered against the corner of her mouth.
    She slid her hands boldly beneath his tunic, wanting to feel his skin. Her mouth roamed his face, his throat, hungrily, flames racing through her bloodstream so that she could think only of him. His scent, his taste, his touch.
    His mouth captured hers in a series of long kisses, deep and elemental, a wildfire out of control. Nicolai spun her around and tipped her onto the bed, a low growl escaping from deep within his throat. The sound only inflamed her more. Kissing him wasn't enough. It could never be enough.
    His teeth tugged at her lip, her chin, the smooth line of her throat. Nicolai followed her down to the bed, his body pinning hers to the coverlet, hard and hot and very masculine.
    She could feel his every muscle imprinted on her, the thick, hard length of him urgent and demanding. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the fire of his mouth, to the need of his body and the hunger in his mind. That quickly, they seemed to be raging out of control, unable to think coherently, only to burn for one another, need one another. His tongue swirled in the hollow of her throat, trailing fire down to the swell of her breasts.
    Isabella gasped as his teeth scraped gently, teasingly over her sensitive skin. He caught at the string at the neckline of her blouse and pulled until it loosened, giving him access to satin soft skin. He pushed the material off her shoulders, his fingertips lingering on her skin.
    It wasn't enough. He wanted to see her, needed to see her. Nicolai dragged the blouse farther down her body until her breasts were completely exposed to him, thrusting upward, her nipples hard and beckoning in the coolness of the air. His gaze was hot, appreciative, moving over her with raw possessiveness and stark desire. Her breasts were lush, firm, an invitation into a world of excitement where nothing else could reach them.
    "Isabella." He breathed her name softly, gently, in reverent awe. He had such need of her, right at that moment when she brought him such terror and joy. His head pounded with need—his body roared for release. "I can't think of anything other than making you mine."
    And he couldn't. Not his honor. Or hers. Not the lions, or the curse, or propriety. He needed to taste her, to bury himself deep within her. There was so much passion in her, so much life. So much courage.
    A groan escaped his throat, and he bent his head to her lush offering. His hair brushed her skin like a thousand tongues, enclosing her in a world of sensation. His mouth, hot and strong, closed over her breast.
    Isabella gasped with sheer pleasure, a soft cry emerging from her throat, her body arcing more fully into his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and cradled his head to her while he suckled, his tongue dancing and teasing and stroking caresses. His mouth pulled strongly until she felt the sensation everywhere, a liquid heat burning low, pooling, aching, coiling tighter and tighter until she wanted to cry from sheer pleasure.
    His hands moved over her skin, cupping her breasts, his thumbs teasing one nipple while his teeth gently tugged on the other. He traced her ribs, became impatient with her gown, and simply ripped it from her body, tossing it aside, exposing her