A scream rips up her throat, and her shoulders heave.
I add another finger, then a third, dragging thrusting them in and out of her.
She arches her spine, jutting out her chest. Still I don’t stop. I will not stop, not until she comes. Not until she shatters around me.
I pull her head back then hunch over her, drag my tongue down her neck, down to her chest. Circling one breast, I nip at the glistening flesh. She moans again. All the time I don’t stop finger-fucking her. I glide my fingers in and out of her. Kissing my way back up to her mouth, I lick her lips.
Her eyes are closed.
“Look at me.” I nip at her chin.
Her shoulders spasm, her eyelids flutter, then she raises her eyes. Her pupils have expanded enough to fill her irises, leaving only a circle of silver around them.
I hold her gaze. Then curve my fingers inside her, finding that hidden core of hers.
Her mouth opens. Color flushes her cheeks. The darkness in her pupils bleeds out, covering the silver completely. She cries out. Her back arches, her body shudders, and the water from the tub spills over the edge. I hold her gaze as she comes. Her body goes limp, and she begins to slip into the tub.
I scoop her up and cradle her in my arms.
Then, standing, I walk over to the rug and set her down. Her legs shake, and she clutches at me. Holding her close, I reach for a towel and wipe her body, slowly, gently. Her legs twitch. Her chin wobbles.
I place her hands on my shoulders as if she were a child. Reaching for another towel, I wipe her hair, squeezing out all the excess moisture.
“Dante.” Her voice is low like she’s speaking through crushed ice.
“I’m here.” I tie the towel around her breasts then sweep her up in my arms.
She cuddles close to my chest, her arm folded under her chin. The sight of it does something to me. Warmth pools in my chest. My throat closes. Something like need, love, want, all of it combines into a fierce protectiveness and grips me. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I know,” she whispers, then cups her palm over my heart and closes her eyes.
29
Gia
When I wake up, I am burrowed against Dante's broad back.
His head is turned away so I can't see his features. His massive shoulders rise and fall as he breathes deeply. My gaze tracks over the planes of his back, and down to those sculpted flanks. His legs are corded muscle and peppered with dark hair.
The tender skin of my inner thighs tingles. I know how it feels when my skin chafes against his.
Desire heats my blood, and my heart stutters. My arms and legs tingle. I want to curl up against his warmth and go back to sleep. And if I do that, I'll never leave.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed, then pause. My shoulders hunch.
Maybe it’s the scent of his skin that clings to mine. Or the imprint of his fingers on my skin, the feel of his dick as it throbbed inside me. All of it calls to me, reminds me of how he'd made love to me.
I rise to my feet and take a step forward. My knees wobble. There is an ache between my thighs, and it isn’t just because I’m sore.
It’s because I am already empty. Because I miss him. How is that possible?
I had been wrapped around him just seconds ago. Now, when I have the chance to get away from him, I hesitate.
The ball of heat against my ribcage flares to life.
It’s the mating cord.
It thrums as if warning me not to leave. But I have to go, I cannot stay here. Not bonded to this Fae I don’t know.
I look around for my clothes. Oh, wait! He'd burned them off me. It had been such a turn on too. Perhaps he'd done it just to make it more difficult for me to leave? I set my jaw. Spotting the T-shirt he shrugged off earlier, I snatch it up and slip it on.
It comes to mid-thigh.
The scent of him envelops me. It's like I am wearing his skin. Hell, I have become obsessed with this Fae male. Another reason I must go.
I don’t have any footwear, too bad. I'll have to do without it. I have to leave before he imprints his presence on every cell in my body. As if he hadn't already? I snicker under my breath, then stalk to the door.
Gripping the handle, I ease the door open and step through. It closes with a soft snick. My shoulders tense. Sweat pools in my armpits.
He’s going to wake any moment now.
There’s no way he slept through that. Did he? I hold my breath and wait. Wait. There’s no movement from inside. Well, what do you know? Perhaps he’s more tired than I thought. To be fair, he hadn't slept much last night. He'd been a very busy man, and guess who had been the happy recipient of all his ministrations? That's right. Moi!
Every time I’d fallen asleep, he’d kissed me awake.
That last time he’d simply slipped inside me.
I’d opened my eyes to the feel of his hardness filling me. Then he’d kissed me and slid his hand down the back of my thighs and wrapped my legs around his waist. He’d buried himself balls deep in me, then extended until he’d seemed to hit my cervix walls.
I’ll never be so complete again.
Panic grips me. I tighten my fingers on the door handle.
Why am I leaving him? He’s my mate. He’s the one for me. He saved my life.
I didn’t ask to mate him. But if we hadn’t fucked, he’d slowly die.
So here I am, bonded to him.
Had he forced himself on me? No.
Had I lain with him willingly? I had.
Did I enjoy it? Heat flushes my cheeks.
And that is the problem: I had enjoyed it too much. I had become addicted to his touch.
To the rush of endorphins that accompanied his every action. To how it felt to be around him. High…I felt high on life. On love. I have fallen in love with him. I let go of the door handle and take a step back. When did that happen? He’d crept under my skin, and I hadn’t even noticed.
I push away from the door and stumble my way up the corridor.
I know I am making too much noise, but I don’t care anymore. I just need to get away from him. Away from the Fae who had come from nowhere and turned my life upside down.
From the time I’d seen him at the bar, I’d been attracted to him. I’d known then that my life was going to change. But I hadn’t anticipated it would turn out to be like this.
That I’d end up mated to him and yet had to leave him.
I must. I have no choice.
He’s an assassin.
And I am sworn to protect the very person he’d set out to kill. We belong on opposite sides, there can be no meeting place for us. The very fact that even now I am thinking of him makes it imperative that I should leave him. Right away. Before the bond consolidates further.
Reaching the door of the study, I try the handle and find the door is unlocked. A sliver of awareness tugs at my subconscious mind. He wouldn’t have been so careless as to leave the door unlocked, right? But then when he came out of the room after speaking to the commander, he hadn’t locked the door.
So all this time I could have simply found my way here and entered the room and left…?
I push the thought out of my head. I am here now, right? I cross the floor to the far end of the room. There’s a table pushed against one wall and a chair.
A bookshelf on the far side, floor-to-ceiling, packed with books. I walk to it and look over the spines. The Prince by Machiavelli. Sun Tzu and the Art of War.