Camille cut off the sound with ruthless will. Leaning forward as much as his grip allowed, she pushed at his injured arm but could not bring herself to look at it. If she stared at what she’d done to him, there was a large part of her that worried she would start stroking him, too.
Her voice was ragged and breathless when she bit out, “If you don’t let me go now, I swear to every god, I’ll tear your fucking head off!”
“Cam, I’m not letting you go until you calm down and stoprunningfrom me. Let me help.”
Viktor’s arm tightened around her middle. It was a band of hard shifter muscle. Shecouldforce the issue, but when she contemplated simply breaking it, she once more ran up against the solid wall in her psyche that was causing him pain.
Furious, Camille thrashed in his hold, hoping that if she wiggled and kicked and bucked hard enough, eventually he would be forced to drop her. “I would be calm if youleft me alone,”she bit out. “I don’t want anything from you! What about me not sticking around did you take as an invitation?”
“You want me to leave you alone when something’s obviously wrong? Not gonna happen.” It was a purely alpha bark, and so veryshifterit made her want to roll her eyes. His arm tightened around her middle when he continued, “I’m not your family, Cam. I won’t back off when you hiss and claw at me, and I’m for damn sure going to chase you when you run. I’m not leaving until you tell me how I can help you.”
And then Viktor did something unspeakable: hebither.
One sharp bite to the pointed tip of her ear, an unmistakable rebuke, made every nerve in her body short circuit. A flush of heat roared through her to settle, with profound viciousness, between her legs. Heat throbbed a low beat there.
Camille clenched her thighs reflexively and bit back a groan.
Every second in his arms, every breath laden with his scent, made the pull worse. She had to escape before she crossed that invisible line, that point of no return that would spell her grisly descent into madness — or, perhaps worse, before her rage melted into something hotter.
She needed togo.
Too bad she couldn’t. Her limbs wouldn’t cooperate, and the longer she stood there, the more muddled her thoughts became. Instinct battered at common sense with soft whispers. It told her to relax, to purr, to play rather than rage. It eased the grip of her claws on his arm and softened the muscles bracketing her spine.
It heated her blood, turned it molten, and demanded she turn, that she press her lips against the strong column of his throat in the most intimate of caresses.
Gods, she wanted the comfort of his touch so badly ithurt.
She felt Viktor’s chest expand with a huge inhale and knew the moment he caught the warm thread of her desire in the air. That should have woken her up, pushed her to break the spell. It should have compelled her to break his arm andrun.
His free hand closed over her throat, sealing her fate.
ChapterTwo
Camille suckedin a breath and melted into him. It was raw instinct. Elves, unless locked in a life or death struggle, instinctively capitulated when their throat was clasped — by claw or fang. Handled by a consort, an elvish mate, it was a sign of trust and deepest eroticism.
“Cam…” She felt his warm breath stir the short strands of her hair when he let out a hard exhale. His voice dropped an octave when he murmured, “Is this why you ran from me, sweetheart?” There was a jagged, desperate edge to his normally smooth cadence. “Do you feel it, too?”
She swallowed hard as the arm holding her to his chest sagged, allowing him to skim the tips of his fingers along the thigh-high slit in her skirt. It was a small touch, but it sent another wave of molten heat to her core, making her ache like she never had before.
He breathed again, deeper this time, and exhaled a long, sensual purr that rattled against her back. His fingers slid against the exposed skin of her thigh, tracing the seam of her skirt.
“Did you think I wouldn’t help you ease the ache?” he rasped. “Did you think I wouldn’t chase you down and stroke you like you need me to? Is that why you want to claw my eyes out? You’re all soft for me and that pisses you off, doesn’t it?”
Viktor dipped his head to press a searing kiss to the corner of her jaw. She gasped, astonished by the potency of such simple, chaste contact.
They were roughly the same height, so he didn’t have to contort himself to hold her, to smooth his lips over the curve of her cheek and swirl of her ear. Every brush of his skin against hers was torture — gorgeous, pleasurable torture.
“The best damn thing I ever smelled,” he murmured, giving her throat a tiny, proprietary squeeze. “Like wildflowers and honey. I want to lick every fucking inch of you, sweetheart, and after that, I want to soothe every worry, everything that hurts you. And then do it all again. I’mstarvedfor you.”
Camille looked down to watch the progress of his fingers as they slid under her skirt, her breaths rapidly turning to pants. She knew that she should stop this. She knew that she still could. Viktor, for all that she had against him, was not a man who would force his attention on an unwilling partner.
But she was so, so hungry for him.
Not even twenty years of separation could stop that, no matter how much she denied it and fought it and buried it. Elves were possessive, touch-hungry beings. They dug their claws in and didn’t let go — and to her body, to her instinct, Viktor washers.
Anger and grief sweetened, transforming into the rich syrup of arousal in her veins. Two years of constant stress and worry momentarily lifted from her chest, allowing her one desperate, selfish breath, and by all the gods, it tasted likehim.
Camille shuddered under the onslaught of yearning that rushed in through the gaps of her defenses. “Vik, I…”
