What was one more arranged marriage? “Yes.”
He stood and carried his mug to the kitchen. She winced as he deposited it in the sink with a clatter. Bracing his hands on the lip of the sink, his shoulders bunched with tension.
She nervously followed but kept her distance. “Bishop?”
“Eleazar!”
She flinched at the sharpness in his tone and took a step back.
He pivoted and let out a harsh exhalation. “I grow tired of asking you to use my name.”
“I’m sorry. Eleazar.” She wrung her hands. “I’ll do better.”
He crossed the floor and snatched her hands, pulling them apart. “Make a fist.”
“What?”
“Make a fist. Do it.”
Her hands balled, and she looked up at him nervously.
“Now, put your hands at your side.”
She lowered her arms, disliking how exposed the position made her. She moved to cross her arms and he pushed her hands down.
“Keep them there.”
“Why?”
“Because fidgeting won’t protect you. It makes you look weak, and you’re not weak.”
“I don’t understand why you’re upset.”
The muscles in his jaw ticked and he looked as if he were about to say something, but instead, he turned away. “Do whatever you want with your hands.”
She blinked in confusion. When her fingers laced together, she forced her hands to her side and stood straight. She didn’t want to appear weak, not to him or anyone else. “It’s okay.”
He glanced over his shoulder.
She gave a stiff nod. “You’re right. I’m too old to fidget. I’ll work on it.”
Something shifted in his gaze as he fully faced her.
Keeping his gaze locked with hers, he closed the distance. “Where did that little mouse go?” he whispered, lifting her hair and shifting it behind her shoulders. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you wear your confidence?”
A smile trembled to her lips. “Thank you.”
His gaze dipped to the lapels of her robe and his hands glided down her arms. “I ache for a time when I can touch you at will.”
Her breath caught and heat gathered low in her belly, nothing like the cold chill she usually suffered at the thought of intimacy. Then, wanting to please him with another show of confidence, she reached for the robe belt and loosened the knot.
The front fell open, exposing a strip of flesh and the V of her sex. His gaze rushed to hers, questioning.
“What are you doing?”
Her chin trembled, but she lifted it anyway. “P—playing with courage. Careful. I’m delicate.”
He stepped closer, his body brushing the front of hers as he swept a hand under the back of her hair and tilted her head up to face him. “You’re irresistible like this.”
His mouth dropped to hers, soft and warm, and she lifted onto her toes. The first slide of his hot tongue over hers pulled a moan from her throat. He deepened the kiss, his hand sliding through her hair and his mouth devouring every secret it held.
She drew back, her fingers rushing to her lips and her thighs pressing tight to relieve the building pressure he created with merely a kiss.
“Did I startle you?”
Heat gathered low in her belly and her breasts ached with need—all from a kiss. “No one’s ever kissed me like that.”
“That was nothing.”
She considered what making love to him would be like. Judging by the way he kissed, he was a very sensual male. Curious visions flitted through her mind, but she wanted the truth. She wanted to know what he was really like and if there could be that much of a difference between immortal men.
She couldn’t say the suggestion, so she opened her mind. The moment he overheard her thoughts, his gaze jerked to hers.
“You’re projecting…” He frowned in question and her face heated. Her gaze jerked to the floor, and he lifted her chin. “Talk to me, little mouse. Tell me what you want.”
Her heart pounded wildly in her chest. She didn’t know how to say such things. “Please don’t make me say it.”
“Try.”
“I…” Her words clogged in her throat. “I think we should complete the bond.”
His mouth closed over hers, and he lifted her off the floor, guiding her legs around his hips. She tensed, but then his lips found a sensitive spot on her neck and her body relaxed. She laughed as he teased the delicate column of her throat with his nose, the gesture soft and playful and completely unexpected.
He carried her to the bedroom but left her adrift when he deposited her on the bed. Her instincts told her to reach for him, but her body stayed stubbornly still.
Her throat tightened when he removed his shirt. She only wore a robe and wasn’t ready to let it go. The mattress dipped under his weight as he climbed beside her, still dressed from the waist down. Leaning over her body, his lips found hers.
When he reached for her breast, she stiffened and he drew back. “I’ll be gentle, Larissa. I won’t rush you, and I’ll make sure you enjoy it.” He caressed her cheek and her body trembled. “Relax, sweet Larissa. I’ll never hurt you.”