Roar for Her: A BBW Paranormal Weretiger Shape Shifter Romance (Sassy Shifter Brides Book 4) (5 page)

The tide of her release washed over her, and all she could do was hold on tight to Slate, riding it out. Her animal moans echoed from the mountains, voicing her finish to the heavens. When she was finally released from the grips of her orgasm, Slate was right there, cradling her against him. He was rock hard, his large erection pressed against her thigh as he cuddled her.

“That was amazing,” she finally whispered, letting her head loll against his shoulder. He purred a chuckle, and the soft noise translated to safety in Teresa’s head. She nuzzled his chest, laying a kiss between the muscled pecs.

“Yes, it was, my beauty,” he said, his soft voice hugging her.

“Should we…” Teresa questioned, glancing down at the bulge against the leg of his jeans. Slate shook his head and kissed her on the forehead.

“No. This was all about you,” he said. There was an edge to his voice as he said that, one that she didn’t miss but didn’t think much of. Frankly, she was so exhausted from holding it all in for days on end that now, after being brought to her peak, she could hardly argue against anything Slate wanted. Though, the thought of having him inside of her was enough to spark her hunger once more.

There will be plenty of time,
she told herself, letting her eyes close as she lay next to Slate. Who knew that Idaho could be so damn sexy!

***

After their tryst on the field, Teresa had looked forward to many more stolen moments like that. Instead, she’d been met with disappointment. While Slate was more than happy to kiss her and smother her with affection and attention, he wouldn’t go that far again. It confused Teresa to no end. Their work continued as before – going out early each morning to explore the nearby mountains and then returning late in the evening to have dinner and go to sleep. She’d hoped that he would share the bed with her, but Slate was adamant about staying on the couch. A few times, she had snuck out of the bedroom to see if he was still up and more often than not, she found him missing entirely. Once she had caught a glimpse of his large, imposing tiger jumping out of the woods and heading towards the cabin. Teresa figured that it had to be a ‘shifter thing’ and one that Slate didn’t want her to meddle in. It was getting harder and harder not to, though.

Their conversations were as easy as before, and he sought out physical contact wherever he could. He was clearly as turned on by her as she was by him (it didn’t take a genius to figure that out, considering the bulge he was left with every time he peeled himself off of her), but he wouldn’t allow himself to act on it. Frankly, it was starting to play with Teresa’s head a little, even despite him assuring her time and time again that he thought she was the most beautiful and mesmerizing woman he had ever met. The man was a puzzle she couldn’t wait to crack. The way he pulled away from her, almost violently, angrily, would have startled her if she didn’t know that he would never hurt her. But there was something wrong, and she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.

Late one evening, they were sitting on the porch steps, watching the sunset. Teresa couldn’t get enough of the magnificent view of the sun setting over the jagged peaks of the mountain, flooding the valley with warm, sparkling light. Slate eyed it with a hint of sadness, his shoulders tense and his whole body strung tight like he was about to pounce on an enemy.

“Slate, what’s going on?” Teresa finally asked, gathering her courage. The man glanced at her, confusion and surprise muddled in his gaze.

“What do you mean?”

“You seem on edge. Like you’re expecting a piano to drop on us any moment.” He chuckled, and Teresa breathed a small sigh of relief. Being so comfortable around him otherwise, she hated the edge of tension that had crept into their communication. Any opportunity to lessen that was a welcome one.

“Maybe I am. A proverbial one, anyway. Something feels… off. Has since we came here. Like there are eyes on us, though I’m not sure what reason they would have. Or who ‘they’ could be, for that matter.”

Slate snaked an arm around Teresa’s waist, and she cuddled up next to him gladly. Feeling his warmth and strength next to her always soothed her mind. When he laid a kiss on the top of her head, she smiled a little. It was borderline ridiculous to her that she could feel so at ease with him, like she had known and loved him all her life, yet only know him for such a short time. Still, that was how she felt, and she preferred not pausing to think about it too much. Having a tendency to overthink things, Teresa was determined to just enjoy their connection for what it was – a simple moment of bliss.

“Should I be worried?” she asked, quirking a brow at the man. He shook his head, a lock of his reddish brown hair falling on his forehead. She resisted the urge to brush it off of his face. She’d looked at him in a whole different way after having seen him in his tiger form, even if it was for just a second. Not just as an impressive man but also as a fierce protector – a predator who could inflict horrific damage but kept her safe and so close to him. She was like a bunny in the shadow of a beast, frail and delicate and protected by the fiercest of guardians. Though she wasn’t usually the type of fainting flower of a woman that needed such tender care, she didn’t mind it at all coming from Slate.

“No. Let me do the worrying,” he said, grinning that captivating smile of his. She wasn’t going to decline that offer! Her body relaxed next to his, reveling in his presence and the gorgeous view in front of them. For once, everything seemed perfect.
 

CHAPTER SIX

The early morning sunshine they had grown so accustomed to was overtaken by rolling storm clouds, rushing in from the higher peaks and hanging ominously above them. Slate considered the threat with a grim look, zipping up his jacket. They were already an hour away from the helicopter, exploring a particularly steep mountain dotted with plentiful natural caves and outcroppings. When they’d set off for their day of trekking, the weather had seemed fine, but mountain weather tended to be fickle like that. Slate glanced at Teresa, who was taking panoramic photographs of the valleys and the smaller mountaintops they could see from their vantage point. Her wavy hair was in a loose ponytail, and she was wearing a pair of pants that hugged her ass just right. For the umpteenth time that day, he had to tell himself not to jump her right then and there.

Not only was the weather getting foul, and Slate was expecting a serious thunderstorm to strike any minute, but he was also more aggravated than usual that day. He knew it was a combination of his Bonding hormones reaching their peak any day now and his sense of impending doom, which had started getting more and more powerful with each day. His sweeps of the areas surrounding the cabin had got wider and longer, and he’d gone without sleep for a few days now. His body was constantly ready to fight, to conquer and to fuck, and controlling it was becoming a chore on its own. He wanted nothing more than to take Teresa, make her legs quake and fill her with his seed, but he knew he couldn’t do that. Not without her knowing what it would mean for him, even if as far as he knew his need to find a mate should only affect weretigresses. It was confusing for him to say the least, to want so desperately to have this woman who he thought of as his mate and to logically know that his urges could only be driven by the damned hormones.

The first drop of rain fell on his leather jacket, and a morose sort of irritation washed over Slate. He didn’t mind water, but he honestly preferred it in frozen form or as a bath, if he had to choose.

“Teresa, we need to find shelter,” he said, padding over to her and putting a hand on her shoulder. Touching her made him light up immediately. God, she was sexy. Her scent filled his nostrils, and he confirmed once again that he loved the way she smelled.

“Okay,” Teresa said, packing her heavy camera into the camera bag. Slate picked it up and slung it over his shoulder. Taking her hand, they searched for a place to hide away and made it into a shallow cave just when the heavens opened up well and proper. In a matter of seconds, their view went from gorgeous mountaintop vista to the gloomy greyness of a downpour. Just as expected, the first bolt of lightning stuttered across the sky as well, lighting up the cave with an intense bright plume for a second, before being replaced by the deafening rumble of thunder. The lightning had struck close by.

Instinctively, Slate pulled Teresa close to him, cradling her in his arms and resting his chin on the top of his head. He preferred having her so close that nothing could get between them. It seemed to amuse the curvy teacher, but Slate didn’t let that stop him. His instincts told him to keep her as close as he could, protect and shield her, and that was exactly what he was going to do, whether she thought it was overkill or not. Trickling streams formed from the rainfall and snuck into the cave, snaking their paths across the rock floor. After a few minutes of rainfall, the cave had become damp and chilly. An unease fell over Slate, his ears pricked to catch any noises that were off, his nose sniffing for peculiar smells, though he kept getting distracted by the sugary sweetness of Teresa. How could he think of anything but her when she was molded against his body, delicious and kissable? Nearly impossible.

A whispered crunch of foliage caught his ear, and a snarl rose in his throat in response. He didn’t know what or who it could be, but he knew it spelled danger. He let go of Teresa and stepped in front of her, urging her towards the back of the cave.

“Stay here. Don’t come out,” he whispered urgently, taking a few steps forward. Every nerve was on edge, every fiber of his being ready for whatever was to come. His muscles were taut under the strain of preparing for battle, and his hazel gaze lay intently on the mouth of the cave.

“Slate, what is it?” Teresa asked, and he hushed her with a raised hand. Another crack outside, making the hair on Slate’s neck stand up. Then, a soft hiss. He knew that noise. Knew it all too well.

In the flash of a second, his lean, strong body had transformed from man to tiger, his long tail flicking back and forth in irritation. He filled almost the entire cave with his long, muscled body, one back leg brushing against Teresa. Slate’s mane was bristled up, and his ears were perked. Something drew him forward, something irresistible. Like a siren’s call, it sang to him, begging him to step out. The rich orange and red coat made a stark contrast against the dull grey of the cave and rainfall. With measured steps, he slunk forward a little, and his stomach fell when he saw the view in front of him. Two tigers, one as massive as he and the other smaller, slighter, stared back at him from just outside the cave, their golden eyes blazing. Slate’s maw contorted in a growl that soon fell when he realized who he was faced with.

His brother, Ash, was unmistakable with the wide scar that ran down the length of his right shoulder, a mark from their childhood and a reminder of how vicious their father was. And the other tiger, well, he couldn’t care less who she was – her being there was enough. The rich, inviting scent of a weretigress filled his nostrils and spun his mind around. His beast grumbled in confusion. Teresa was behind him, and he was overcome with the need to keep her safe, but the primal call for one of his own kind messed with his head. Slate roared, a pained sound that echoed across the drenched mountainside. His pelt was quickly becoming soaked with the rain, and the sight before him left him aggravated. His animal was standing its ground, considering the two tigers. It all made sense now. Why he had been drawn from the cabin, why his circling marches during the night kept getting longer as his Bonding became more intense. It was because of Ash and the tigress. She must have been in the area since he got there, messing with his head and senses, and Slate must have smelled trouble in the form of his brother as well.

Ash stood quietly, his head cocked to the side. They were an impressive sight, the three tigers together. Slate was the biggest of the three, but Ash matched him closely. The tigress was smaller, her coat a fainter orange and her stripes thinner. Just a few feet of ground separated the three of them, the distance seeming immeasurably long and, at the same time, so short to Slate. Finally, he could not take it any longer. His change took him, and as quickly as the man had become a tiger, the tiger became a man again, soaked to the bone by the rain. Ash followed his lead but the tigress didn’t, instead sitting back on her haunches and staring at Slate with the dull, dead eyes of a woman who knows and accepts her fate. It killed him, but the primal part of him that had been itching to tear Teresa’s clothes off all week was getting dangerously close to considering the same regarding her. It disgusted him.

“Why are you here, Ash?” Slate asked, his voice strained. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing Teresa peer out from the cave with confusion on her face. Slate reached his hand out to her, urging her closer. She stepped out, and his arm went around her reflexively. It felt good having her close again. His mind cleared, the tigress becoming more distant to him by the second. It wasn’t even a choice, Teresa was his mate, and as much as his ancestral urges told him otherwise, he could have nothing with the tigress.

“I’m here because it’s time, Sergei.” Slate grimaced at his given name, his Siberian heritage thrust back into his lap. “I’m here because father knew you would not come on your own. So he sent me. And a mate.” Ash nodded his head towards the unenthused tigress. Slate had to feel pity for her. That was how it was in the clans – the royal Alpha would choose a mate for the male, and the woman would have little to do but agree to a life of cub making with whichever tiger claimed her first. It had been so for as long as weretigers had been around. Slate hated it with all his heart.