Doesn’t matter.
He was a shifter, and he was the man who’d given her a taste of paradise on earth. Not wild. Not dangerous.
Perfect pleasure.
She leaned forward and brushed her lips over a scar that twisted the flesh of his back.
Her lips had barely skimmed over his flesh when he whirled to face her. “Don’t.”
“I want to.” She wanted to kiss and touch more of him. He’d had his chance. Wasn’t it hers, now?
“You don’t understand.” He pushed her back. Took a step away from her as if he needed extra distance. His nostrils flared. “If I take you, there’ll be no going back for you. For me.”
Marna shook her head. “What does it matter? Humans have sex all the time—”
“I’m not human.”
She stared at him.
“Neither are you.”
His erection pressed against the front of his jeans. He was that aroused, and still telling her no?
“Panthers,” he spoke slowly, “we’re territorial. When something is ours, it’s ours. Nothing, no one, takes what belongs to us.” He took another step away from her. “We’re vicious, deadly, and the worst nightmares most folks have ever seen.”
Marna didn’t know what to say. It was true that the only nightmare she’d had since being on earth had been about panthers. Their claws and bloodlust. But now . . .
“For your first time, you don’t want that.”
She wanted him.
“If I have much more of you . . .” His eyes burned. His fangs elongated. His face—he was changing. Shifting. “I won’t ever let you go.”
He whirled away from her then. Marna chased after him. He was shifting before her eyes. His bones snapped, his body contorted, and he hit the landing below with a thud.
“Tanner!”
His head turned, and he stared back up at her. “Don’t . . . watch.” Gravel-rough.
But she couldn’t look away. Fur burst along his skin, perfect, black fur that lined his body. His eyes glowed, growing brighter, brighter, and the man that he’d been vanished as the beast took his place.
The panther was huge. Muscled, lethal. She’d never seen a more powerful killing machine. When he opened his mouth and roared, his razor-sharp teeth glinted. His claws, sharp enough to rip a man to shreds, flashed as he threw up his front legs.
How much of the man still remained inside of the beast? Marna crept slowly down the stairs, the end of the sheet trailing behind her like a bride’s wedding dress.
Her hand slid down the wooden banister.
He roared again.
Her panther was very, very angry.
But he wasn’t attacking her. Wasn’t even trying to come close. Instead, as she neared the bottom of the steps, he spun away and lunged toward the back of the house.
“Tanner, wait!” She rushed after him, but the panther leapt through a picture window. Glass shattered, raining down, and the panther hurtled toward the woods that waited just behind the old house.
He didn’t look back.
She didn’t call out to him again.
He was an idiot. Tanner ran through the woods until his beast had settled down. Until the wild hunger for Marna eased. Until he could breathe without tasting her.
Fucking. Idiot.
He shifted back into the form of a man and his hands dug into the earth. He’d had her beneath him. Been ready to thrust deep into her silken core, and he’d stopped.
Pulling back hadn’t been the panther’s plan. The beast had snarled and fought him, desperate for more of Marna. He’d never had a shift come on him so suddenly.
The panther didn’t like being denied what was his.
And the beast definitely thought of Marna that way.
Mine.
He’d tried to warn her. Once he’d realized—her first, her only—he’d tried to let her know the danger that faced her. Tanner wasn’t the sharing sort, and if he had that silken body, no one else would get near her.
Was she ready for the full force of his lust? The dark needs that he had? Could an angel even begin to understand what he’d want from her?
Tanner rose to his feet and began to stalk back through the woods. He owned over fifteen acres here. Plenty of room for the panther to run without worrying about prying eyes.
He’d been gentle before. Did she realize the battle he’d fought? He’d shown her only the softest of touches. Given her only a glimpse of what could be.
All the while, the panther had clawed and fought inside of him. Take. Take.
The beast recognized Marna for what she was. Oh, it wasn’t some predestined, our-souls-are-meant-as-one bullshit. He didn’t believe in that crap.