“Yes, I do.”
“Why?”
“Because you don’t know what I’m holding back. If I let go completely—” He broke off, jaw tight.
“What? What happens if you let go?”
“I’m not human,” he said roughly. “When a Vultor male wants a female, it consumes us.”
Curiosity sparked through her. “Consumes you how?”
“We become possessive. Territorial. The urge to claim, to mark, to make someone ours...” He shook his head. “It’s overwhelming. And you already call to me like that. If I give in to what I’m feeling, I might not be able to stop.”
She should have felt some flutter of fear at his words, at the warning in them, but all she felt was a deep, thrumming excitement.
“What if I don’t want you to stop?”
His hands tightened on her face. “Don’t say that unless you mean it.”
“I mean it.” She covered his hands with her own. “I’ve spent my whole life being safe and protected from everything. And look where it got me—a prisoner who didn’t even know she was imprisoned.” She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his. “I’m done being careful. I want to feel something real. Something that can’t be contained or controlled or measured. I want you, Baylin. However you come.”
A shudder ran through him.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he said.
“Show me.”
He lifted her the rest of the way onto the bed and followed her down until she was on her back and he was braced above her. The position should have felt vulnerable. Instead, it felt like safety. Like being sheltered by something powerful and protective.
“If you want to stop,” he said, “at any point, for any reason?—”
“I know. You’ll stop. I trust you.”
She reached up and pulled him down to her.
The kiss that followed was deeper than any that had come before. His tongue slid against hers, tasting and exploring, and she matched his movements instinctively—learning the rhythm, the give and take, the escalating intensity.
His body pressed against hers, warm and solid and impossibly strong. She could feel the muscles of his chest through the thin fabric of her dress, could feel the hard length of his thigh between her legs. The contact sent sparks shooting through her nerve endings, making her gasp against his mouth.
“Good?” he asked.
“Yes. Very good. More.”
He laughed softly—a warm sound that vibrated against her lips. “Patient.”
“I’ve been patient for twenty-one years.”
“Then a few more minutes won’t hurt.”
His mouth left hers, trailing down her jaw, along the line of her neck. Each kiss was deliberate. Purposeful. Building sensation upon sensation until her head was spinning.
When he reached the hollow of her throat, he paused to press his lips there—a gentle contact that nevertheless made her whole body arch.
“You’re sensitive here,” he observed.
“I didn’t know that.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know yet.” He kissed the spot again, then traced his tongue lightly across her collarbone. “But we have time.”
