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He blinked back at her, his face ruddy with emotion. His full lips parted, waiting for another of her kisses. Of all the men in the universe, why did Marco have to look like her cousin, Jared Bennett, the only man she’d ever loved? But before she had time to react to that association, Marco cupped her face roughly, pulling her close for a much hungrier kiss, his tongue heatedly exploring her mouth. She could feel his heart racing wildly against her chest while her own hammered out a twin crescendo. These feelings—this attachment-- will not do, she reminded herself. You are here for one purpose only. |
Of all the men in the universe, why did Marco have to look like her cousin, Jared Bennett, the only man she’d ever loved? But before she had time to react to that association, Marco cupped her face roughly, pulling her close for a much hungrier kiss, his tongue heatedly exploring her mouth. She could feel his heart racing wildly against her chest while her own hammered out a twin crescendo. These feelings—this attachment-- will not do, she reminded herself. You are here for one purpose only.
And with that, she silenced the unexpected, quiet voice of desire this man had spoken within her… once and for all.
***
She’d laughed at him, at his virginity and inexperience. That had been the final humiliation of this cursed day. He had felt so damn powerless against her, as her hands had kneaded his thighs, as she’d rubbed and teased his rock-hard erection until he ached beyond expression. As their kisses grew rougher and fuller, as she cradled her hips so perfectly against his, teasing him into a thrusting motion—letting him know what would come next beyond any question or doubt. As he met every gyration of her hips, he knew one fact for certain—he was totally losing control in the arms of his enemy, going over the edge, and there would be no coming back. Never again, not after tonight.
This woman didn’t just have him in the palm of her hand—she had all of him, his very soul even. No one had ever taken his body and simply pleasured it. He’d been a servant, a warrior for so long, he’d always thought of himself as the property of others. Yet tonight she was worshipping his body, and it felt achingly, powerfully, disastrously good.
The gash on his forehead throbbed painfully, and as he became aware of it, her finger traced it lightly. Had she felt his pain? Their kisses stilled, and he stared up into those blue eyes as she touched his wound. Everything about her was the opposite of him. She was all lightness, golden hair, blue eyes—where everything about him was so dark. Even in the half-light of his room, he could see how olive his skin looked next to her fair complexion. She traced the throbbing place on his forehead with the tip of her finger.
“Let me fix this,” she breathed. She lifted her hand to help him, and he captured her wrist roughly. He knew Thea Haven had been gifted with healing abilities, but he didn’t want to be healed.
“No,” he growled.
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Why not?”
He released her hand slowly, and she resumed tracing her fingers lightly across the wound until he flinched slightly in pain. The cut was physical proof of his crime—he’d kissed his queen tonight, even when he realized the advance was unwelcome. In return, Kelsey had sent him sprawling, headfirst, against her bookshelf.
“I want the scar,” he breathed. “I want to remember tonight from now on.”
“They really got to you, Marco, didn’t they?” She began trailing hot kisses across his jaw line.
He groaned softly. “Yes, but now you’re getting to me in whole new ways.”
“You’ve been lonely.” Her tongue flicked softly against his earlobe, then she tugged on it between her teeth.
How could he stand up against this? He didn’t care what she really wanted with him: This was all he needed tonight.
“Yes,” he moaned quietly into her hair, taking her full breasts in both of his hands.
She nuzzled his cheek. “You need this. Me.”
“Yes,” he agreed softly, raking his hands through her luxurious blonde hair. There was so much of it, and it was all over his face.
“What will you do to have me?” she teased, straddling his naked body with her own. God, she was so close to him, he could just slide inside her easily; he let his hand find the warm place between her legs. Earlier he’d caught a brief glimpse of a soft tuft of dark blonde hair there. She was incredibly wet for him. Could she want this as much as he did?
“What… ever,” he gasped, “I need to do.” He thrust upward clumsily, trying to push himself toward her, but she lifted, holding herself away. He had no idea how to get what he wanted, not without seeming as inexperienced as he was. His face burned with shame, and he tried to work his way into her again—she raised her hips coquettishly, lifting just out of reach.
“No, no, Marco. Tell me,” she urged with a wicked smile. She was hovering over him now, straddling him. If he weren’t careful, he might lose control before he ever came inside of her. “Tell me what you will do.”
“I’ll make love to you,” he gasped unsteadily.
She ran her fingers through his hair and laughed, a quiet, seductive sound—the sound of a devil temptress and said, “That’s not what I want, Marco. You know what I want.”
He didn’t understand what was happening at all. Not what she wanted? She was so wet for him, so seemingly full of desire. But in his heart, he did know what she was after—had known since she’d first appeared in the bar tonight.
“Then what?” he asked, sucking his breath in quickly. He felt like he was begging her now. He let his hands wander roughly across her backside, cupping her bottom, pulling her closer to him.
“I want you to make love to me, yes. But that’s not all.” She hesitated, sitting up on top of him until she gazed down at him seriously. “I want you to come to our camp. I want you on our side. Jared will never take you back—you do know that, don’t you?”
He felt something turn over in his chest, and for a moment thought he might be sick. She had put voice to the words that he hadn’t yet allowed to fully form in his mind.
Damn her.
She did know—everything about tonight; he was certain of it now. That he’d kissed his queen, and then afterward Jared-- his protected and king—had banished him from camp forever. Did their enemies have the compound wiretapped? How else could they have known what transpired in the king’s chambers, in private?
“Raedus is the true king,” she continued, softly stroking his hair away from his forehead. “Jared is only the leader of a tiny little rebellion; it’s not his destiny to rule anymore. Someone with your”—she paused, brushing her fingertips over his lips to emphasize her point—“exceptional talents belongs with a real king, Marco.”
Suddenly, she captured his hand in her own—so quickly he couldn’t stop her—and a small beam of light emitted from the palm of her hand, falling upon his own wrist. Immediately his royal seal appeared in the air between them, the one true proof that he was part of the most elite circle of royal protectors. He was among the last of the Madjin protectors, one of a dying breed.
“This is who you are, Marco,” she said, gesturing at the undulating royal emblem where it swirled in the darkness between them. “Jared never respected it, never appreciated it. But Raedus will—he needs you. Our alliance needs you,” she whispered and began trailing hot kisses across his forehead, along the edges of his painful cut. Her kisses ended on his eyebrow. “And I need you. Badly.”
He closed his eyes as he felt her stinging kisses along his forehead. They seemed to electrify his pain, intensify it. He tried to pull away from her, and she raised her head slightly, meeting his gaze. Those blue depths were so bleak, but somehow shot full of passion, just like the ocean at Mareshtakes could be—shining, tempting, and treacherous.
She touched his forehead once again. “Why would you want this scar?” Her voice was surprisingly gentle and sympathetic.
He steadied her face within his open palms, studying her thoughtfully; when he did finally answer, his voice was an electrified hush: “Because it’s who I am now, Thea.”
In the near-darkness, she smiled faintly. “Good,” she breathed, tracing her finger along his eyebrow. “So you know then.”
He could only nod. He wanted inside of her… now. No more toying with it. Mine, he thought. She can be mine…
She can never be yours, the voice disagreed, but now she owns you—all of you, from your body to the depths of your soul, they all do. For eternity.
And the worst part was… he no longer cared.