Ah, fuck. Her plea burned away what little control he had where she was concerned.
She clung to him as he drove deeper, unable to hold back on the desire he had for her . . . or the thirst.
“I don’t ever want to let you go,” he confessed thickly, then lowered his head and sank his fangs into her yielding flesh.
She cried out, flinching in his arms. For one awful instant, panic gripped him. It was too late for doubts now; there was no turning back what he’d just done.
But she didn’t have any doubts. He could already taste that truth as the first hot rush of her Atlantean blood surged into his mouth. He had only ever drank from humans, so the electric taste of her came as a shock.
Holy hell, it was more than a shock. It was a revelation.
There were no words powerful enough to describe the flood of heat and energy and light that poured into him from her vein. She lit him up from within, her blood as sweet as nectar and as pure and bright as heaven and the stars combined.
He drank more of her, unable to get enough.
He would never be able to get enough of Phaedra. He’d known that even before his bite had now cleaved her to him in an unbreakable bond for as long as either of them lived.
And through that bond, he could feel the overwhelming wave of her oncoming release.
Her pleasure intensified his own, until he could no longer hold out against the force of it.
With a hasty swipe of his tongue over the punctures he’d made, he sealed her wound and began thrusting into her in a blind, desperate rhythm. She raked her fingernails over his shoulders as the first crash of her climax slammed into her.
He was right behind her, his release exploding inside her. Holding her in his arms as they both gave themselves over to the power of their connection, he felt invincible.
He felt complete in a way he never imagined he could.
And he couldn’t stop moving inside Phaedra. Whether he was still hard or hard again, he didn’t know. He only knew he needed to feel her around him, for the rest of his days and nights if fate would allow it.
Eventually, he would have to let her sleep. The morning was going to arrive too soon, bringing with it the mission to the Deadlands.
But for now, there was only room for pleasure.
Kissing Phaedra again, he pressed her beneath him for more of what they’d just shared.
CHAPTER 23
Phaedra woke at the edge of night and daybreak.
It was her favorite hour, when the moon and stars still shone in a sky that hung suspended between fading indigo and the lavender shades of dawn.
Wrapping a thin shawl over the ankle-length nightgown she’d slipped into before leaving her guest room with Micah yet asleep in her bed, she padded barefoot through the mansion to the courtyard garden she loved.
A layer of fog swirled in the crisp morning air. Like puffs of feathers, the mist danced over the stone tiles of the patio as she stepped outside. The gardens beckoned, their beds of red roses, pink dahlias, and gold chrysanthemums glowing like jewels against the dew-covered greenery.
She walked along the stone path, smiling to herself as she thought about the hours she’d spent with Micah. She never dreamed she’d find this kind of happiness, this kind of fullness.
Absently, she brought her hand up to the side of her neck where he’d drunk from her. To think she had long considered the Breed to be a dangerous race, one she should fear as the offspring of the marauders who had decimated her people. She hadn’t held the Order much higher.
Now, she had given her heart to one of them. She had given Micah more than that. Her blood. Her bond. Her soul.
She felt giddy in love, and as she strolled deeper into the fragrant gardens, she could hardly curb the joy that blossomed inside her. A small giggle escaped her lips as she tilted her head up to watch the stars twinkle defiantly in their last hour before morning would come and chase them away.
She was so engrossed in her own contentment she didn’t realize she wasn’t alone in the garden.
Feeling a soft stir in the air, she broke out of her reverie and looked to the path ahead of her.
A handful of yards away, the white doe stood in the swirling fog.
