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© 2007, Camryn
Cutler Reviews For CALTHRACA: THE TIGER by Camryn Cutler "I love finding and reading new
authors. With The Tiger, Camryn Cutler has penned a novel of exquisite
passion and poignant emotions. While some scenes in the book are not
for the faint of heart, the tale would not be the same without them.
The Tiger takes place in the desert and as such, the reader is fully
immersed in a story of one man and the woman he loves. A man who demands
respect and complete obedience. A man a woman would follow into death
if asked. It is also the story of one woman's strength and love for
such a man.
Rating:
4 Stars Sample Chapter For CALTHRACA: THE TIGER by Camryn Cutler The heavy door closed firmly behind her and she swallowed hard. “Come to me.” His voice came out of the dark. He was Tengri-Khan, Prince of the Provinces of Tartak, Abd Aga Sehzade. The Tiger. She was terrified, suddenly too frightened to move. She heard the light rustle of his clothes as he moved toward her. “Do you fear me still, lovely Adama?” His voice was low. Somehow he had gotten behind her. “You are wise to do so.” She stood trembling, desperately willing herself to stop. His arm, clad in a white silk robe, reached up, and she felt his hand caress her face. She cringed away slightly, leaning into his chest—a place she didn’t want to be. He smelled clean from his bath, and there was a faint spicy smell to his skin as well. “If you please me, I will never harm you… You will be my first wife… Bear me a son, and I will raise you above all others.” He spoke softly in Lyrosian, gently running his hands up and down her arms. She shuddered. “You’ve never told me… How old are you?” he asked. “I’m eighteen,” she managed. He brought his face down beside hers, nuzzling her ear and her neck. “So young. You are lovely; we will have glorious sons and daughters, my Princess.” He took a lock of her hair between his fingers and stroked it, thinking it looked like fire captured. “I’m not your princess,” she said emphatically. “I cannot do this.” “Adama, we are beyond resistance. I do not wish to take you forcibly.” He turned her to face him, but she couldn’t raise her eyes to his. “I know you are not experienced. But I do wish to show you pleasure. Come now, you’re no virgin to shrink from my touch.” He pulled her into his embrace and she stiffened. He paid no attention and took her chin in hand, tilting her head up to face him. He bent to kiss her, forcing his tongue between her lips, bruising her mouth. He felt her teeth slightly and he drew back. “Do not bite me,” he warned, and then plundered her mouth again. Gone was the gentle lover he seemed to be earlier. She didn’t resist, but she decided she would not respond. She would totally close her mind to him, and, she told herself, it would soon be over. He knew she was trying not to respond, and he could feel her withdrawing. Her youth and inexperience prevented her from knowing that while the will might be strong, the flesh was weak. He’d soon teach her. He broke the kiss and took her by the hand, leading her to his bed. She hesitated, but his hand was like a vise on her wrist, and he pulled her forward. He had waited long enough. Tonight she was his. When he reached the bedside, he turned, pulling her around; her back was to the bed and he faced her. “You and I shall spend many pleasurable hours here. The word for pleasure in my language is zevk, Adama,” he said. She didn’t reply. She realized there was no way she was going to escape his advances. He was determined to have her. She took a deep hitching breath. It was true she’d been with Christian one time before she was stolen, but he wasn’t anything like the Tiger. They had learned together. Christian had been timid and gentle, and just as inexperienced as she was. This man was a force. She could feel the strength of him, held barely in check by sheer will. He frightened her, yet at the same time, he made her burn. He stroked her shoulders once again, and then slid the silken caftan down her arms, baring her to the waist. He caressed her soft skin and ignored her frightened moan. “Your skin is like the finest silk,” he murmured and kissed the top of her shoulder. “Soft and fragrant.” He had taken down his braids and his long hair fell across her arm, black as a raven’s. It tickled her skin and made her shiver. Her breasts were large, and that pleased him. In his experience, he found that passionate women had large breasts. He cupped one in each hand, running his thumbs lightly over her nipples, enjoying the way she gasped at his touch. He brought his hands up to her shoulders once again, and gently pushed her backwards onto the bed. She looked up at him with huge eyes, which aroused him powerfully. “You are so fine.” He marveled as he looked at her. He lay down on the bed beside her, and she stiffened once more. He began to caress her breasts again, and then bent his head to suckle upon her. Her nipples were taut, and her arousal was becoming more apparent. She gasped as he bit her and then suckled hard, enjoying her soft moan. His hand, which had been caressing her other breast, traveled down her flat belly to her thigh then down to stroke her through the sheer robe she wore. She realized what he was doing and tried to move, twisting away from him, but he held her firmly. He brought his face up even with hers as he stroked her sensitive places lightly through the fabric of the robe. His other hand had relaxed its grip around her middle, and slid up above her head while he nuzzled her neck and brushed her lips with his own. She lay there trying hard not to feel anything, but beginning to feel a distinct heat where he was stroking her despite her resolve. She shifted again attempting to get away, and felt his hand firmly entwine itself in her hair, not pulling, but the potential was there. “Do not resist me,” he commanded in a low, dangerous voice and she lay still once more. She felt him slide her robe aside entirely. His offending fingers began exploring within her body, plundering and circling her intimate parts. She moaned deeply in her throat, desire mingling with the fear. “Oh…” It felt wonderful, yet she knew it must be wrong. “You like this,” he said against her mouth. “No…” she gasped. The fire in her loins was nearly unbearable. “I think you do,” he said wickedly. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to shut him out. “Have you ever reached paradise, Adama?” “I do not know what you mean,” she whispered. He continued stroking her slowly. “Do you feel a fire burning within you?” he asked, brushing her lips with his own. She sighed sweetly. “Something you both crave and fear. A feeling that you want to keep experiencing. Your body needs it, as though it were air or water.” “Ohhh…God,” she breathed. “Why are you doing this to me?” Relentlessly he stroked, watching her face intently and knowing she was painfully close. He kissed her mouth as she began to breathe deeply. “Because it is not wrong to feel this passion, Adama,” he whispered. “Let it take you.” She moaned again quietly, and he could tell she was frightened of the new feelings she was experiencing. He watched as her eyes slipped closed, and she was swept away. This was the moment he loved the best when he took a woman. He continued to slide his fingers across her jewel gently, using light pressure, then more firmly. Slowly she felt herself begin to spiral. Her body remained where it was, yet her soul seemed to turn and twist, rising above her. Time seemed to stop, and her whole body was flooded with intense pleasure such as she had never felt before. She couldn’t stop it, and she didn’t want to. She peaked and cried out her pleasure, then tumbled down, back into her body, breathing hard as though she’d run a long distance. She could feel her heart hammering within her chest, her pulse throbbing through her. “That…is paradise,” he said quietly. Tengri rose and moved away from her. Crossing to a table near his windows, he poured a glass of wine and watched her as she lay there upon his bed, regaining her senses, slowing her racing heart, breathing deeply. He sipped the dry wine slowly, savoring it, wondering what it would taste like sipped from the hollow of her belly. He smiled to himself—that would have to wait for another time. She bent her knee and raised an arm to her face, sweeping her long hair from across her eyes, unconscious of his presence. She sighed and he watched her touch first her own breast, then just briefly her sex. He smiled. He came back to the bed with the wine, and held it out to her. She drew herself up onto her elbows and accepted the glass, then took a long drink. She looked over the top of it at him, and as he stood looking down upon her, his arousal became almost unbearable. “Does that happen every time?” she asked innocently. “It will when we make love.” He grinned and sat on the edge of the bed beside her, then stroked her thigh. “Lay back and open yourself to me.” She hesitated slightly. “Why?” He smiled wickedly. “I am your master, your prince. You belong to me. Do it now.” He took the glass from her and put it beside the bed. Although she was terrified, she lay back and spread her legs slightly. He loved the way she looked. Her long, coppery hair was slightly messy around her face, her green eyes were wide and the long strand of black pearls he had given to her fell between her breasts and down her torso as though pointing the way to her passion. She was a vision. Once again she closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to look at him. Adama was deeply embarrassed at the way she had been plunged into erotic pleasure and had so easily allowed him to lead her there. She was mortified and somewhat incensed at being ordered into such a position, but impossibly she felt quite aroused as well. The sudden rush of sensual pleasure and emotion left her confused and slightly unbalanced. How could her body react this way, when her mind clearly did not want what was happening? “Wider,” he said in a low tone. He was close to her. She couldn’t imagine what he had in mind. He hardly needed her to spread herself so wide if he were simply going to take her. Christian had just lain upon her and done it. He bent his head and kissed her thigh and she yelped. “Shhhh… You will be in heaven soon.” He moved higher, placing hot kisses up her inner thigh, finally stopping before her cleft, admiring the soft pinkness of her and the tuft of ginger hair that concealed her treasures. He deftly ran his tongue up the slit of her womanhood. “Oh God, no,” she moaned. |