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Her mate was fascinating. Everything about him oozed strength like steel. She’d seen all of him more than once, but never indulged in this simple exploration. She’d seen images back in the human world of a statue named David which had always been heralded as the summit of male beauty.

Tarkyn looked better.

When he agreed to let her examine him and played along as if he were the subject of her study, she’d been delighted, indulging in following the lines of his muscles and spine—until she found his weak spot.

Ticklish. Her big, strong mate was ticklish—and apparently quite embarrassed about it.

“This is a secret between mates! If you tell a soul, I will… punish you! Soundly!”

Harth hadn’t been able to resist. She grinned up at him, licking her lips. “Define… punish?”

Tarkyn growled and descended on her. But she danced back out of his grip. “No, no, no! You said I could look at you! I can’t look at you if we’re kissing!”

‘I want to do a whole lot more than kiss you,’ he growled in her head, the depth and rasp of his voice making her belly flutter. But Harth enjoyed the growing tension, as if something were being stretched between them and would soon snap.

.....

“Just a few more minutes,” she said with a smile. “Please?”

With a heavy sigh and rolled eyes, as if it were a huge favor she asked, Tarkyn rolled his shoulders back and opened his hands. “I suppose,” he pretended to grumble.

Harth was delighted. And fascinated.

Not by males, but by this male. Her male.

She’d known male bodies since childhood. The Chimera bathed at communal pools. So just seeing a naked male wasn’t shocking to her. But there was something about his body that called to her in a way no one else’s did.

She’d seen erections before too, though rarely. Yet knowing that it was the sight of her, standing close with her shirt unbuttoned, that aroused him…

She felt the power of it. She felt the flutter of knowing how he would touch her, how he would kiss, the way he would make her feel…

For a moment she almost gave up and just threw herself at him. But he was facing her, his expression pleased and patient now that they weren’t pretending anymore. And she wanted to drag it out.

So she stepped up again until her belly brushed against him and he grunted. His hands twitched towards her, but he didn’t grip her. She smiled as she flattened her palms to the broad planes of his pecs, then drew her hands down, letting her fingers follow the lines of his abs.

“This part of you,” she said breathlessly, “It’s so strong. It always draws my eyes. I want to lick it.”

“Please, be my guest,” he sighed, then his abs clenched when she leaned down and licked them.

His eyes flashed and went dark in the same moment. Then she realized why and had to stifle laughter.

“Do you like that, Tarkyn?” she whispered.

“I like that a great deal,” he growled, his hands twitching again, but he fisted them at his sides and left her.

Unable to resist, Harth brought both hands up to the part of him that had grown and was now twitching close to her breasts.

With a sly smile, she trailed her fingers down, marveling again at the softness of his skin there—and yet the steel strength beneath.

Tarkyn groaned, his pupils dilating until his eyes were almost black.

Then Harth gathered her courage and did something she’d only ever heard the mated females talk about.

She put her mouth on him.

Tarkyn gave a small cry as she held him, licking first with the tip of her tongue, drawing it up underneath that sensitive head.

Her mate shuddered and one of his hands clutched at her shoulder.

She’d shocked him.

She looked up to make certain that he didn’t disapprove, but his mouth was open and he gazed at her as if she’d morphed into an angel.

Her stomach fluttered at that look, so she did it again, but this time closed her mouth over him, letting the flat of her tongue follow as much of his length as she could take, and sucking, just slightly.

“Holy shit…” He gave a strangled curse and grabbed for her as if he might topple without something to brace against.

Surprised by a small rush of salt on her tongue, Harth gripped him, but his hips drew back slightly, then forward again, pressing him into her mouth.

Ah… this was a reflection of the mating?

Fascinated, Harth began to play in the rhythm he set, her hands at the base of him, her mouth at the head. And when she moved the two in time, he almost came apart.

“Stop! Stop!” he gasped, pulling out of her grip as she straightened, worried she might have hurt him. But his chest heaved and his eyes were still dark—they flashed once to his lion, which startled her… then made her smile.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing. Nothing at all. Creator’s mane, Harth. I just… I want to have you and if you keep doing that, we’ll be done before we’ve started.”

He held his palms up as if to stop her advancing on him, but she only took one of his hands in both of hers and began to trail her fingers along the tendons at its back. “If you say so… but I’m not finished looking at you yet.”

He groaned. His hand trembled, but he submitted, sighing when she turned his hand over to trace the lines in his calloused palm, then trailed her fingers along his forearm, then back to up his hands.

“They’re a beautiful part of you, Tarkyn,” she said seriously. “Your hands are so strong. I’ve seen them at work. You are… intimidating in your strength. And yet… so gentle with me. And these hands… they give me so much pleasure,” she said, not meeting his eyes because she suddenly felt very vulnerable. “I love that this part of you that’s so strong can be so tender, too.”

Tarkyn gave a little groan and his breath got shallower.