~ EXCERPT BELOW ~
Rogue Panther shifter Aramond encounters a female from his past, one who etched an unstoppable ache deep in his soul. As she opens old wounds, Aramond must overcome his fears and set aside both their pasts if he is to win her heart.
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“Aramond, please, remove your coat and your shirt, so I can tend to your injuries.” Danae’s words were tight, strained.
He did as she asked and slid the coat from his shoulders.
Her gaze flicked from his face to his chest as he gripped the edge of his T-shirt between his hands.
Primal and raw, his cat longed to preen for her, but he forced himself to maintain his composure. With a quick tug, he ripped the material over his head. His skin screamed in protest, pain flickering over the open wounds, but it was worth it to see the look of appreciation in her eyes.
The shirt slipped to the floor.
She motioned for him to sit.
He gripped the back of a chair, flipped it around, and straddled the seat, placing his arms along the chair’s back.
A quick, feminine intake of breath echoed from behind.
He peered over his shoulder.
Danae’s brow furrowed with a worried crease.
Rawness coated the back of his throat. If only she would care for him, but he was as unworthy of her now as he was then.
“Your wounds are much worse than I imagined. How are you…” She pursed her lips, and he had the sudden urge to kiss them, feel the plump flesh, warm and inviting against his.
His gaze flicked to the mark on her throat.
Faded, the twin scars were barely visible. “What happened to Dradon?”
She stiffened then grabbed several cotton balls and a plastic bottle filled with a white liquid. “He’s dead.”
“How did he die—” He inhaled.
Gently, she pressed the wet cotton ball against his back. The astringent stung, burning along the wounds.
“The medicine will work quickly. Along with your Lemurian blood, you’ll be fine.” Her fingers, deft and nimble, worked their magic, brushing the cotton over his skin in long strokes. Despite the pain, her touch burned like sensual fire, lighting him up on a whole different level.
His inner cat purred, and he couldn’t stop the rumble in his chest.
She stilled, her hand on the small of his back.
Before he could think about his actions, he flipped around in the chair, pulling her on top of him.
She squealed, and her hands landed on his chest.
The plastic bottle crashed against the floor, fluid spilling from the spout.
He wrapped one arm around her waist. With his free hand, he brushed a few stray strands of hair away from her ear and toyed with the studs along her lobe. “Time away from you seems like an eternity, but I remember your touch like it was yesterday.”