However, I knew my husband to be a stubborn man. “Fine,” I said. “Take the blame. You can have it.” I brushed my nose playfully against his and let a smile spread. “But that means you owe me.”
His look only darkened,deepened. And I was glad to see his hunger for me return. He cupped my breast, gently swirling the pad of his thumb over my nipple in a seductive rhythm that had my back arching. He continued in maddeningly slow circles, and the roughness of his skin over that sensitive little spot had me gasping. I rubbed the demonic relic over my other breast, enjoying the heady pleasure that came from his calloused touch and the smooth horn.
Lowering his mouth to the soft spot just below my ear, he whispered, “It seems I’m at your mercy.” Another kiss. Another breath. “What penance will suffice, my lady? Ask anything of me, and it’s yours.”
The anticipation of what came next sent tingles across my skin that settled between my thighs. My need for him was like some great beast, restrained by knots that I wanted him to untie. Retie. And untie all over again.
My throat dry, my knees weak, I spoke two words. “Kiss me.”
Holding my face, Bastien took my lips with his, kissing me so deeply that I nearly forgot how to breathe. Wanting only the feeling of his mouth against mine. Of his fingers stretching into my hair, holding me close. To be consumed by him. To drown in him until I was reborn as the woman I wanted to be.
His mouth wandered down my neck, and I turned, catching our reflection in the vanity mirror. Bastien’s pale blond hair had all but disappeared behind my curtain of copper red waves. A reminder of my new identity. If the want, the heat, and the pull of the relic weren’t enough.
Bastien slid my other sleeve down my shoulder, revealing more skin. I smiled into the mirror, and my attention drifted to the demonic horn still clutched against my chest—the only thing separating me from him—as if to say it belonged here with us. Or perhaps thatIbelonged to it.
In one easy motion, my husband scooped me into his arms, holding me against his sturdy frame as he made for the bed. I buried my face into his shoulder, drawing in the heady scent of bergamot and pine that always seemed to cling to him. He carefully laid me down on black silk sheets with delicate gold embroidery. One of the small luxuries he indulged in.
Standing over me like a statue come to life, he drank in the curves of my body. Chest heaving. Hands clenched. I drew a line from his thigh to his stomach with my toes, trying to coax him into spreading my legs. He caught my ankle in his grip and slowly, carefully, lifted it to his mouth, placing a delicate kiss there. I waited for him to continue, anticipating what else he could do with those lips. Those teeth.
But still, he hesitated.
“You’re hardly done with your penance,” I said coyly.
His pale blue eyes left mine and settled on the horn, like it was a stranger in our bed. A flush of embarrassment tinted my cheeks. I hadn’t realized I was still holding it. But… I didn’t want to let it go. Not even now. I was protective of it. Having it in my hand made me feel powerful. It made me feel…desirable.
His attention returned to me, and he let out another low, throaty growl that did nothing to stop the demanding needunder my skin. “I will spend my life in a state of penance. You have no idea what lengths I’ll go to…”
His sentence fell apart when I undid the knot of my sash and parted the silk folds, revealing my body to him. He traced every line with his eyes, his gaze as tangible as his touch. I closed mine and relished the feeling. This was what I needed. Him and his undying pledge to love me no matter what I was or wasn’t. But instead of gripping me under my knees and setting them on his shoulders, he lowered himself onto the mattress beside me and eased one of my legs over his hip. “My insatiable, beautiful wife. You need rest.”
My blood ran cold. This wasnotthe reaction I wanted. A wave of restless energy coursed up my arm and through my core, almost like I was pulling it from the horn. Magick tickled along my skin, dancing between my breasts. Suddenly, I was sweating along my hairline and overwhelmed with my need for him.
With the horn still in my hand, I shoved Bastien’s shoulder against the mattress, pinning him there, and rolled on top of him. One spark, and I was ablaze with power. He stared up at me as if he was seeing me for the first time. As if the fire raging inside me had burned away all traces of the old Claire and replaced her with this new version.
“I want you. All of you. Just as you pledged. And no bruise or scratch or moment of guilt is going to stand between us.”
“That cut on your head isnota scratch. It’s barely stopped bleeding.”
A flash of anger tore through me. I was fine. I’d show him. With my free hand, I reached between us and undid the laces on his trousers and pulled him free. The thick, hard piece of him that I wanted.
“Claire,” he groaned.
“You said you were at my mercy. You said Icould choose your penance.” I paused, my emotions finally catching up with my want. “Bastien,” I said, a heavy knot forming in my throat, “don’t you desire me?” The question sliced against my insecurities, and I knew he could feel the intensity of it. My need for him and my need to be wanted mixing together.
With the speed and strength of a vampire prince, he grabbed my wrist and held me still. Then slowly, he rose into a seated position with me on his lap, putting us face-to-face, breath-to-breath. “Did my wife,my mate, just ask if Idesireher?”
The anger burning inside me made me want to fight back. Wanted to throw a barb at him. Before he’d claimed me as his wife, he had spent many nights avoiding me. Even now, after he’d announced to his small council that I was the new Duchess of Roselyn, he’d sent me back to our room while he had private words with Tyson. Words he had not shared with me. But those angry sentiments fled like a terrified enemy in the face of his look. His darkened eyes. His clenched jaw. His uneven breath.
He wrapped my hand around his hard length, then covered it with his, holding me tight around him. Almost painfully tight. “This is what you do to me,” he choked out as he began working our hands up and down.Up and down.Using the same rhythm he used the night I found him alone in that feeding tent. When he’d called out to me through our bond without meaning to. “I do not just desire you, Claire. You are an ache thatneverdulls.”
I sucked in a breath that drew us closer, and wrapped my arm around his neck to hold myself upright, pressing our cheeks together.
He continued. Lips pressed against my ear. “One glance, one word, one breath of your delicious scent, and I’m ready to give you everything. To doanything.”Up, down. Up, down.Abead of warmth dripped between my fingers, making them slick. “And that’s how it will be until I draw my last breath. Do you understand?”
I tipped my head back, drawing in power from the horn. Sweat rolled between my breasts and down the sides of my face. And yet, it wasn’t enough. Not hardly enough.
He let go of my hand and pressed a punishing kiss to my lips. One that did not leave me questioning how he felt. I scooted closer, closing the distance between us, wanting more.
“But you need rest,” he said against my mouth. “I wasn’t gentle when I claimed you. I didn’t treat you like I should have. And neither did those witches.” He pressed a kiss to the cut across my brow. When he pulled back, he licked dark red blood from his lips as if to prove a point. With a tiny, irritating smile, he added, “There is no rush. We can wait.”
