“And you want vengeance?”
“I want justice.”
“False morality serves as the only distinction between the two.”
His princess glanced sideways at him and then quickly averted her eyes, her long lashes hiding her expression.
“Tell me more, my mate.”
A flush worked its way up her neck and to her face. “I would like to discuss something else.”
“I will indulge it.”
Something fiery sparkled in her diamond eyes before amusement curved her lips. “You are arrogant Lachlan Ravenswood.”
His princess shifted, gliding the oils over her face, throat, and down her body below the water. “Why am I your mate?” Her face was averted, the curtain of silver-white hair concealing her expression from him.
A pulse of anxiety came from her but no fear.
“Fate has decreed it so.”
Her firm, elegant jaw tightened visibly. “But what does it mean?”
“By the laws of the Darkage, you are forever mine, by the primal call of the beast I am eternally enslaved, and if I should will it, so are you.”
He felt it then, the slow spiral of terror before she subdued the emotion. She made no response, and he was content to watch her as she dipped into the well of the water washing away the battle of the day. Several minutes passed in silence, and he watched and waited.
She faced him then, her skin flushed pink, her wet hair clinging to her body with heart jerking loveliness. Water droplets beaded on her shoulders. A small rivulet coursed across her collarbone.
“How are you so certain I am your mate? Could…could there be another?”
How hopeful she sounded that such a possibility existed.
“There is a fire in my soul to have you by my side always. I want to know what makes you happy and provide it to you. I am a captive to the sensation and needs you rouse in me. My darkness is pleased by your light and your scent. With every beat of your heart, I want to sink my fangs in you and consume your essence and make it a part of me. Your scent is that of peace, of solace, of promise and belonging to something other than darkness. Only a mate has such a power over one such as me, and there can only be one.”
She looked dazed, staring back at him, the scent of her pussy, heated and female, drew him, making his mouth water for her taste. His princess waded from the water and made her way up the stone steps and made her way over to him. He loved the way she moved, the sway of her hips, her purposeful yet sensual strides. She was so beautiful she took his breath away. Her high rounded breasts, gently dipping stomach, and flaring hips formed the most breath-taking body he’d ever seen. She drew a deep, shuddering breath as she halted before him. “You are a fierce and formidable warrior. Despite your savagery and even though I do not understand you…” She touched the tattoo on his chest, tracing th
e outline of a massive claw.
He closed his eyes and savored the exquisite feel of her touch.
She stared at him with a mixture of longing and apprehension. “I want you too, Lachlan Ravenswood. But I will belong to no man.”
Her soft sensual notes slid inside of him, teasing and tempting him to devour her. He pushed the long fall of silken hair from her face and back over her shoulder, not wanting any of her body hidden from him. “Your eyes appear as if the stars are forever in their depths.”
“You are trying to seduce me,” she murmured huskily.
He touched her hair, rubbing the wet silky strands between his fingers. “I only spoke the truth.”
“If I were to give in to the temptation beating in my blood I can sense I would lose myself to you. I do not have the power of foresight like my sister, Kala. But I sense it with every fiber of my being Lachlan Ravenswood. I cannot afford such an attachment, and I will be no man’s slave. Not even for this hunger burning in my soul for you,” she whispered. “I cannot stay in the Darkage. I must return to my world. I cannot fail my people.”
Her eyes were pools of denial and pain, pleading for understanding. And that anguish hit him like a mighty blow.
“By the laws of your realm, must I accept your claim?”
Fury swept through him. Ugly. Dangerous. Ashes and darkness swirled at the edge of his thoughts. She sensed it, but she did not flinch from him, meeting his regard steadily. The idea of letting her go lanced pain somewhere in his tattered soul. He had never thought he would feel that for a woman. At the sight of her looking small and fragile and apprehensive, every protective instinct he had stirred. A fierce need to protect her welled up in him, even from the darkness prowling in him to dominate her, to bend her to his will. It was so strong it shook him. He dragged her close, pulled her into the shelter of his body, needing to be close to her.
He kissed her because he had to. Framing her face with his hands, he took possession of her mouth. He was without mercy as he slanted his lips over hers. A broken cry of need escaped her as she responded with wantonness. He savored the taste of her—hot, exotic, the promise of wet, fiery passion. His thoughts spilled to her through their link, of him splitting her wide, and her riding his tongue, soaking her pussy with anticipation before he claimed her. He wanted everything about her imprinted on his soul, so he would forever remember the taste and feel of her. His mind was merged deeply in hers, feeding off her pleasure, heightening it as she intensified his.