His eyes darken as he leans closer, the air crackling with tension. "Trust isn't the issue, Angel. I promised him. Erik needed space to process this without interference." His lips curl into a knowing smirk. "Tell me honestly—would you have stayed silent or played matchmaker the second you found out?"
I open my mouth to protest, then close it. Damn him for knowing me so well.
"No," I mutter, but even I can hear the lie in my voice.
"Bullshit." He moves closer, backing me against the door. His arms cage me in, his scent driving me crazy. "You're a terrible liar, baby. We both know you'd have been plotting ways to throw them together before the sunset."
His body presses against mine, solid and warm. "Erik doesn't work that way. And Bryn?" He laughs darkly. "Your sister's got enough stubbornness to rival my stick-in-the-ass brother."
I bite back a smile, picturing them—Bryn with her 'I don't need a man' swagger, and Erik, probably short-circuiting trying to process actual emotions. But then, a darker thought hits me.
"What if she rejects him?" My voice cracks. "We both know what happens when a mate bond is denied. We could lose Erik forever. I can't—"
"Stop." His hand catches my chin, forcing me to meet his intense gaze. "We can't interfere, Angel. This is their path to walk. Trust fate. Trust them."
"When did you become the level-headed one?" I try to joke, but the slight quiver in my voice gives me away. "I thought that was Erik's job."
"Oh, I'm far from level-headed right now, Angel. Not after a week of you giving me the silent treatment." His voice drops to that dangerous growl that makes my knees weak. "In fact, I'd say I'm feeling quite... unreasonable."
"I was upset," I protest weakly, but his proximity makes it hard to think straight.
"And now?" His lips brush my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "Are you still upset, Angel?"
"I..." His mouth trails down my neck, and coherent thought becomes impossible. "That's not fair..."
"All's fair in love and war, baby." His teeth graze my pulse point. "And right now, I'm done talking."
Bastard. Using our play on words against me.
Before I can respond, his mouth crashes onto mine, hungry and demanding. And just like that, all thoughts of Erik and Bryn fade away, replaced by the burning need to get closer, feel more, and lose myself in the storm that is Rhyland.
His hands are everywhere at once, tearing at my clothes with a feverish urgency that steals my breath. The harsh sound of ripping fabric echoes through the room as buttons scatter across the floor like tiny missiles. Cool air kisses my exposed skin, immediately replaced by the scorching heat of his mouth as he strips me bare. His lips brand a path down my neck, across my collarbone, each press of his mouth leaving behind a mark that claims me as his.
"Too many fucking clothes," he growls against my skin, his voice vibrating through my body like thunder.
He steps back just long enough to tear at his own garments, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he rips the fabric from his body. The sight of him steals the air from my lungs—every inch of him carved from stone and bathed in golden firelight. The intricate tattoos that cover his torso seem to dance with each breath he takes, ancient runes and patterns shifting across his skin like living art. A roadmap of his history etched into flesh.
Myeyes travel lower, following the deep V of his hips to where his cock stands proud and thick, the head already glistening with evidence of his arousal. The sheer size of him makes my mouth water and my core clench in anticipation. He is raw masculinity personified—a warrior god in all his naked glory, ready to claim what's his.
When he steps forward again, the heat of him engulfs me. His hands slide up my ribs to cup my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples until they peak against his touch. Then his mouth replaces his fingers, hot and wet as he takes one sensitive bud between his teeth.
He bites down just hard enough to make me cry out, the exquisite blend of pleasure and pain shooting straight to my core like an electric current. My head falls back against the wooden door with a dull thud, my spine arching to offer more of myself to his hungry mouth. His tongue swirls around the tender peak, soothing the sting before he moves to lavish the same attention on my other breast.
"You taste like heaven," he murmurs against my skin, his voice rough with desire.
I'm drowning in sensation, my fingers tangling in his thick black hair as he works his way down my body. The scrape of his beard against my stomach sends shivers racing across my skin. He drops to his knees before me, his hands gripping my hips with bruising force as he presses open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin of my lower belly. Each touch of his lips moves lower, his beard rasping against the insides of my thighs as he spreads me wider.
I'm trembling now, my legs threatening to give out as the anticipation builds to an almost unbearable level. My skin feels too tight, too hot, every nerve ending alive and screaming for his touch. I need him with a desperation that borders on madness.
He surges forward, pinning me against the door. His body radiates heat like a living flame, making the wood at my back feel like ice in comparison. My skin pebbles at the contrast, a shiver running through me that has nothing to do with the cold. His hand slides between my thighs, and I gasp as his skilled fingers delve into my dripping core, the intimate touch making my hips buck against his hand. He groans in approval at finding me so ready, so desperate for his touch.
"Fuck, baby. You're dripping for me." His voice is strained as he circles my clit with the calloused pad of his thumb, the rough texture creating delicious friction against the sensitive bundle of nerves. "You can't deny it anymore—how much you need me—want me."
And I am soaked, my arousal coating his fingers as evidence of the effect he has on me. My hips rock shamelessly against his hand, seeking more pressure, more friction, more of everything he's giving me.
"No. I can't—I want you. Always." The words tumble from my lips between ragged breaths, my voice barely recognizable through the haze of lust. "I need you. Need you inside me. Now."
His eyes lock with mine, the blue of his irises nearly swallowed by the black of his pupils. There's something dangerous in his gaze, something primal and hungry that makes my heart race and my core clench with anticipation.
