Trancing the Tiger (Chinese Zodiac Romance Series Book 1) (14 page)

Mei’s eager grin dimmed. “You should sit this one out, Li.”

No one sought a repeat of Rabbit freaking out in the presence of Tiger. He scowled, but released her hand and stalked to the corner where he could keep an eye on the procedure.

“Ready?” Mei nodded to the other two and their animals leapt forth. Fur, tails, ears, claws. Rat, Monkey, and Ox cloaked their hosts. At the points of contact along Lucy’s body, Rabbit broke through.

A downy white rabbit pelt spread across her skin. The spirit didn’t uncloak fully, but it didn’t have to. The energy of the three other animals would be more than enough to heal Lucy’s body.

A nice perk of being Chosen. The energy that passed through their bodies could be transferred, flowing from one to another, mending any weak link in the chain. Together, they were strong. One Chosen alone could wither from the slightest of illnesses.

Like Snake.

It gutted Sheng every time he thought of Snake and how he’d coaxed Boar to his side. Of how Sheng had failed to join with Snake in the first place. They were both too dominant, too stubborn, and neither preferred to play second fiddle.

By nature, Sheng’s spirit was more powerful. Yet Snake was sly and he’d circumvented the rules, forming his own band. Made no fucking sense. Apart, they would never restore balance to the world.

Unfortunately, that was what Sheng feared. Snake didn’t seek balance. Born of a privileged life, the golden son of the Ghee Hin
Kongsi
, he’d never grasped the benefits of a “balanced” world, of the equality of the life within it.

Sheng’s upbringing had been the polar opposite—on the streets, getting picked up by the Hai San
Kongsi
out of sheer luck…or rather, because of the Matchmaker.

Yeah, that bitch. When the Matchmaker had found him on the streets and showed him the Tiger, he’d accepted his fate straight away—a fucking Cinderella story. If cats had nine lives, Sheng was pretty sure he’d used eight of his. So while he might not fit the part of a prince, he did his damnedest to protect his new family.

Guess he owed her, or did she owe him? He could never keep it straight. Possessing the Tiger was both a right and a privilege. He’d been raised in a traditional household until a fire destroyed his home and killed his family. Years eight to sixteen he’d spent on the streets, clashing rather roughly against the Ghee Hin.

Still did.

No such concept as a “truce” for Snake. While he possessed the wealth and privilege to build the ranks of the Ghee Hin, the Hai San focused on smaller, more lethal numbers. The Kek Lok Si monks, yeah, each of them were warriors. If need be, they’d defend this place to the last stone tile.

Lucy moaned and his attention shot back to her. The bone in her arm knit together. The grisly bruising faded from dark purple to yellow and disappeared altogether. Mei smoothed her hands over the healed wound and swept Lucy’s damp brow, whispering with Monkey’s chittering voice.

Lucy’s features twitched before settling into a deep, heavy mask.

Good. She’d sleep and her body would recover from that fucking mess-up of his.

Fighting with her? He grimaced. His plan had backfired and she’d ended up hurt. As arousing as wrestling Lucy was, he should have known better than to goad her into using her emotions. Should’ve anticipated she’d fight more with her heart than her head. More passion than strategy. Admirable, really, to anyone with a beating heart.

Been through Hell.
Her words echoed in his mind. The first true glimpse she’d bared of her soul. It made him that much more eager to uncover the rest.

“Li, you coming?” Fang shot the question from the doorway.

He shook his head and slumped into a chair. No fucking way would he leave her.

***

Lucy’s eyelids twitched. Lifting lids weighing ten pounds each and swallowing against the arid dryness of her throat, she blinked into consciousness. A white room greeted her. She registered the thin mattress cushioning her body and noted she was pressed against a wall.

Her hand glided backward along smooth, hard muscle. Yeah, not a wall.

Sheng.

Her breath hitched and her pulse beat rapidly as awareness of him spread through her veins. She lay curled on her side; he spooned her from behind. One steel arm cinched her ribcage, an inch short of fondling her breasts, which plumped against his forearm. His other arm was slipped beneath her, fingers spread across her middle as though he insisted on possessing every inch of her.

His thick, muscled thigh draped over hers, and a hard, solid length was pressed along the cleft of her ass.

She froze.

His chest was bare, but the delicious gloss of silk slid across her skin, signaling that he wore pants. The smooth fabric contrasted against the scratchy material abrading the rest of her body.

A hospital gown? Wait… Hospital gowns opened. In. The. Back.

As she was about to freak out, her instincts slammed down on her anxiety. Judging from the gentle undulations of his rising and falling chest, he was asleep. He probably didn’t even realize he’d been dry humping her in his sleep—

“Lucy.” Sheng moaned against her ear, his hips rocking, gliding his hard length back and forth between her thighs.

Oh man. He wasn’t merely sleeping. He was dreaming.

About having sex with her.

Yet his movements were subtle, tender. As though he took his time making love to her, even in his dreams.

Her body softened and moisture slicked between her thighs. She was getting wet. Very wet. And so horny.

Was this what he fantasized about? Sleeping with her when he might have any other woman in the entire world? The sting of his earlier rejection eased as the flattery sang to her feminine senses.

His subconscious fulfilled what his conscious sense of honor wouldn’t permit.

Stupid virginity. She wished she’d screwed the entire football team at her university. Maybe then, Sheng would act on what he so clearly desired.

Would it be so bad to help him along?
A tiny, sinful whisper purred.

If anything, she ought to take offense that he was currently grinding against her. But they both wanted this. The stubble on his chin scraped her cheek as he nuzzled her hair. Oh, she could get used to this. Devastatingly sensual man.

But she longed for more.

Yes. She craved
him
. All of him.

Her fingers inched backward, following the treasure trail of crisp hairs downward. He didn’t wake, so she spread her fingers over the waistband of his athletic pants and tugged the material down to free his cock.

Oh my.
Her fingers closed around smooth, hot skin. He was so huge, her fingers stretched to wrap around his shaft as she brought him between her thighs once more.

His deep breathing stalled.

Shoot. Caught.

Lucy snatched her hand back to her hip, slammed her eyes shut, and slowed her breaths.

So much for being a bold, wanton seductress.

Chapter 11

Sheng whipped open his eyes. A painful tightness ached in his balls. Softness cushioned his throbbing erection.

What the fuck?

He inhaled Lucy’s scent and groaned. His brain registered the vice-like grip he’d assumed across her body, pinning her against him. It was a bloody miracle she hadn’t awakened, that he hadn’t constricted her oxygen intake.

He sighed as he lifted his cheek from her hair. Silky hair, softer than the down of a rabbit’s pelt. He snorted at the comparison. Extricating his arm from beneath her breasts, he hissed as his cock jerked in response to the fullness he’d been so close to cupping. Next was worse—disengaging from the plushness of her ass. Her bare ass.

Fuck. He groaned at the sight of the hospital gown Mei had dressed Lucy in. The floral-patterned, flimsy material wouldn’t have hidden much even if the gown didn’t gape open.

Smooth, flawless skin. A cascade of dipping and rising curves. An ass he wanted to grip hard, flick open to expose her pink pussy, and bury himself inside. Good thing he couldn’t glimpse the treasure she kept between those toned thighs. He might not make it out of here if he did.

He extracted the other hand he’d wrapped around her and eased off the bed, a cool draft chilling his bare balls. He glanced down.

Shit.

He scraped his hand along his jaw, staring at his cock, rock-hard and glistening.

Double fuck.

Her essence coated him. Her sweet honey made him all slippery and wet, and—

Hell.

He yanked his pants up and, checking to ensure Lucy was fast asleep, vacated her chamber. Before he made good on his wet dream.

In the hallway, he snuck inside the first unlocked, empty closet. He couldn’t stop himself—even if the whole world watched—from jerking off.

Closing his eyes, he pictured her sweet ass and pumped his hand up and down his shaft until the pressure built. Snatching a towel from the shelf, he gritted his teeth as his cock shot thick heavy spurts of cum. He hadn’t gotten off in weeks. Hadn’t ejaculated in months. With Lucy nearby, that should qualify him for sainthood.

As the last tremors released from his body, he eased his semi-hard shaft back into his pants, grimacing at the release of his
jīng
—a sexual energy that could be lost through the expulsion of semen. Dammit. He possessed better control than this. He’d had sex hundreds of times—and orgasmed—without ever ejaculating. So long as he didn’t spill his seed, he didn’t release his
jīng
energy. This practice kept him strong, powerful. In control.

After discarding the used towel in the laundry bin, he shook his head, pissed. Regret washed over him, muddying the gratification. If he hadn’t woken up, how far would he have taken things?

And Lucy. She’d been asleep. Fucking asleep. What the hell was wrong with him? Arrows of guilt shot into his chest, reprimanding his body and mind.

She’d been aroused.

Yeah, he didn’t need the devil buzzing in his ear. Lucy’s wetness on his dick didn’t mean a damn thing if she wasn’t even bloody awake.

Tiger chuffed as Sheng spun around and punched a hole in the wall. The sting in his hand helped, but he doubted Mei would be pleased with the new window from the supply closet into the office next door.

This would never happen again. Even if the Matchmaker’s warning didn’t drone in his ears, he had his own sense of honor to live up to. He would sleep with Lucy. One day. Hell, yeah. But not before he fulfilled his responsibilities. Not before she understood who and what she was. Not before she peered
inside his soul
. And didn’t fucking run away. Because there was no leashing Tiger when Sheng got down and dirty.

With Lucy? Damned impossible.

Most women didn’t notice anything other than his exceptional prowess in bed, but she would. She’d spot Tiger. The last thing he sought was for her to trance while he made love to her. That would bring him to a new low, a shame even his drowned experience with the Matchmaker wouldn’t top.

He adjusted himself and slipped from the closet, hoping Mei wouldn’t notice the hole for at least a few weeks. Rolling his shoulders, he strode toward the infirmary.

His ears perked as he stalked to Lucy’s room.

A whimper? He would have busted into the room, except her soft mewl suggested she experienced pleasure, not pain. He leaned his ear against the wooden door. Oh, yeah. The storm of attraction hadn’t been as unshared as he’d believed.

Behind this door, Lucy was getting off.

He suppressed a growl and clenched his fists to prevent them from twisting the knob and helping her finish.

The squeak of wheels distracted him. Down the hall, an orderly he hadn’t encountered before pushed a cart toward him, her gaze targeted on Lucy’s room.

He stepped in front of the entrance, blocking it, and stared down the new orderly. Lucy wasn’t done yet and he’d be damned if he didn’t let her finish. Didn’t listen to her muffled cries as her body exploded—

Okay, too much imagery. Shoving back his renewed arousal, he crossed his arms. The young woman halted ten feet from him and tucked a stray curl of red hair behind her ear. Pretty much every inhabitant of this place displayed some gesture of intimidation near him. Better to shroud a layer of mystery around himself than reveal what was on the inside. Without the Dragon, he’d only ever be half of the leader they deserved.

Flexing his biceps, he smirked as the woman’s eyes widened in admiration. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth.

Guess she liked the badass type.

“I have lunch for Miss Yeoh—”

A sharp jerk of his head cut her off. No one was going inside this room, not until his Lucy finished what he’d started. Possessiveness warmed through his chest, curling around his heart.

“Oh, okay. I’ll leave this here.” Her lips curved, her gaze straying everywhere but his, as though he were the piece of meat and she the carnivore. “I’ll be back. Around five.” She winked, bent, and adjusted the linen covering the cart as if he’d appreciate the view.

Trying too hard.

He rolled his eyes while she sashayed down the hall. He’d bet Tiger’s tail she’d be getting off tonight, dreaming about him.