She trembled in reaction, her gasp cutting off as he slid between her folds. But for once, she wasn’t going to be distracted. The whole problem was that he was willing to give but not receive. That was one way he kept his distance from her. So she shouldered his arm aside and dropped to her knees before him.

Finally, she got to taste! It was different than she’d expected. Salty, hot and large—yes. Those things she had read about. But he was also throbbing with energy. Like what he had done to her breasts in her kitchen, his cock felt larger than its physical space. When she licked it, she tasted his skin, but she also felt the pulse of energy flowing from him into her tongue.

It was bizarre, but it felt fabulous. He tasted like life, and she wanted more of it. She did everything she had read about and more. She licked; she nipped; she engulfed and sucked and swallowed. He put up a weak protest at first. His hands were on her shoulders, and he murmured, “We can’t.”

She didn’t bother responding because obviously they could. She could. And when his hands shifted from a gentle push away to a hard grip, she knew he was getting close. The power that she stroked was closer, too. It was swelling in her mouth and mind. She could feel it tingling all the way through her spine, and she loved it.

“Tracy…” he gasped. “Tracy!”

She liked the sound of her name cried like that. She had one hand cupping his balls, the other slid around to his tight tush. She felt everything in him clench. It was time, and she was more than eager. With a deep pull, she felt him release. His body pumped; his semen erupted, but that was nothing compared to what she felt in her mind. It was as if her head had been engulfed in an explosion of power. It was thick; it was potent and it was all Nathan.

She felt his strength in the pure white light of it, his passion in the heat that burned through her. But underneath the explosion, she felt his quiet loyalty to those he cherished, and the sweet essence that was all him. She absorbed it all, savoring every sweet, salty taste.

And when it began to fade, she felt him drop to his knees before her. “Tracy,” he whispered. “I can’t refuse you anything. God, why can’t I say no to you?”

She didn’t know, and she didn’t care. Instead, she kissed him, putting all her joy into that connection. Did he feel it? Did he know what he had given her? There wasn’t time to ask as she felt him slide his hand between her thighs. She was wet and willing there, but mostly she was too dazed from his energy to fight.

“Use it,” he whispered to her. “Combine my yang with your yin. Feel how potent it can be.”

She didn’t understand his words. She never did when he said stuff like that, but why ruin the moment with questions? Her hands were on his chest, but now she slid them higher onto his shoulders. She needed to be steadied as his fingers began their work. He slipped inside her with one finger while his thumb slid upward. His movements were quick—abrupt even—and she gasped, her bottom tightening in startled reaction. She bucked away from him, but he didn’t let her escape.

He pursued her, pushing a second finger deeper inside that he wiggled in a pattern she didn’t understand. But wow, did she feel it, especially as he began a long circle with his thumb. Her legs trembled. It was a good thing she was already on her knees or she would have fallen.

Then he twisted his head, taking her mouth with a fierce, possessive kiss. He thrust his tongue inside her while his fingers stroked in their own rhythm. In and out they slid, coiling and swirling against her internal walls in a way that only he understood. Her body bucked, thrusting against him harder and harder. She provided the force; he held the pattern—in her mouth, deep inside her belly, and then finally with his thumb against her clit.

Her climax roared through her. It began deep like the pierce of a burning arrow, but then it flew upward, flame searing up her spine and through her mind. With a single breath, she was wholly engulfed. And then it kept going. Up, up, up, her climax continued to expand, taking her mind and soul with it. She knew nothing but its heat and the joy that it brought.

She began to hover, still expanding, but not quite so rapidly. And in that moment of suspended breath, she felt Everything. Everything was warm like a velvet womb. Everything was alive with the pulsing beat of a heart—two hearts? A thousand million hearts? All totally suffused in love. Everything smelled like rich fertile earth and tasted like spring air after a rain shower. Everything was completely and totally wonderful!

Tracy breathed deeply, wanting to draw all of Everything inside herself. It took only a moment before she realized that she already was Everything. And what she was—what Everything was—was love. Pure, beautiful, pulsing with clarity, absolute love. She was accepted; she was perfect. Better yet, she was accepting of everything else—imperfect or perfect or perfectly imperfect. The logic of it didn’t matter. The internal voice of her mind, the part of her that constantly quantified and defined and explained faded away. And in the silence, Tracy knew total love.

NATHAN HELD HER AS SHE screamed in her climax. Her body arched, everything fully contracted before shuddering in wave after wave of ecstasy. He kept it going as long as he could, intensifying the rhythm though she tried to pull away from him. He wanted her to feel, to fly, as long as possible. He wanted to give her that gift.

And then her cry stopped on a gasp. She was arched in full extension, her belly rippling and contracting about his fingers. But her breath abruptly stilled to short breathless pants.

He stared at her, seeing her frozen state and yet feeling her still gripping his fingers in the steady pump of orgasm. It wasn’t possible. She couldn’t be in a tigress trance, could she? And yet, the sight was unmistakable.

Tracy was ascending to heaven right this moment, and he felt a burst of fierce pride at her accomplishment. But that was quickly followed by a moment of sheer panic. She was in a trance while kneeling on a bathroom floor. A tigress in full ascent was not aware of anything beyond the blessings of the divine. She had no control of her body, was not even aware that it existed. He would have to hold her gently throughout her trance. But they were on cold tiles. Water was everywhere. And he—idiot that he was—had his pants still down by his ankles.

She needed to be lying down. She was to be kept warm and protected because a trance could last hours. But how? The scrolls said it was dangerous to disturb a tigress in such a state. He might be able to support Tracy’s body for a few hours, but he couldn’t guarantee it. And what if she took a chill? He had to get her to a bed and wrap her in dry towels.

As gently as possible, he withdrew from where her yin pump continued to pulse. It was as strong as when she’d first convulsed, and he repressed a groan of regret. How he wished he could be with her at this moment, his dragon deep inside her. They could fly together to the immortal realm. But that of course was not his path.

First thing he did was kick out of his pants. It was awkward and difficult with his other hand still supporting her body, but he managed it. Then he shifted her gently into his arms. She went easily, her body becoming lax except for the continuing contraction of womb and belly. He could feel the steady ripple where her abdomen pressed against him.

He lifted her slowly, doing his best not to break her meditative trance. It was difficult and took a lot of steady strength, but thankfully he had lifted many heavy things in his lifetime: firewood, buckets of water, even sick women—but none as precious as a tigress in full trance.

He walked without jarring her, his steps small glides to his bed where he set her down carefully. He dared not dry her body for fear of disrupting the trance, so he wrapped her in his sheets. He peered at her face, alert for signs of distress. None. Her eyes beneath her lids were in the steady left and right motion of deepest trance.

Without turning away, he grabbed a pair of shorts and pulled them on. He was cold. His shirt was wet where it plastered against his skin, but he didn’t want to abandon her even for that short moment to change. So he knelt down on the floor beside her, watching and waiting in silent awe.

It took twenty minutes before he noticed that his knees were numb. His back began to ache soon afterward. Then awe slipped away into other thoughts. That was when it hit him. That was when Nathan realized what he had done.

He’d convinced himself that she could resist the call of a tigress. He’d told himself that they could be friends, sharing their time together outside of her sexual needs. But all he had done was let down his guard. Tracy had no understanding of how a tigress called unconsciously to a man. It was in her energy, and it slipped into a man’s soul and led him along until it could pounce.

Her shower had gone on too long. He had begun to worry and had pushed open the bathroom door to see if she was okay. That was all it took. One look at her sleek, wet body and he was lost. Perhaps he could have resisted. He had told himself to step away, to back into his living room though the vision of her beneath the shower had already branded itself in his mind. He’d even learned from years in a tigress temple that sometimes a man simply had to stimulate himself or lose his mind when surrounded by so many gorgeous women. He could do that alone and never risk a deeper connection with Tracy.

But then she had begun to soap herself. Her one leg extended as her hands slipped up and over her calf, her knee, until…He could not resist that sight. He had to watch. He didn’t even remember opening his pants. All he knew was a desperate hunger for her.