My mouth finds hers, but no matter how gentle I’m trying to be, I know it’s not gentle at all. It’s not patient or tentative. It’s intense, it’s deep, it’s claiming.
She makes needy sounds that feed my desires even more, and I move my lips to her neck, smelling the heady scent of the blood racing through her veins and pressing my lips against the frantic rhythm there. Her heartbeat stutters against my tongue when I lick at the pulsing skin.
Fuck me. Her blood.It’s my fucking drug. It’s my own personal siren’s call, and every cell inside my body wants to sink my teeth into the delicate skin of her neck.
But I don’t. Iwon’t.Not unless she wants me to. Her safety, her comfort, her well-being trump any desires I have.
She’s not just mine to claim. She’s mine to keep. To protect.
Mine, mine, mine.All mine.
In this moment, there’s no internal noise over Holland Thorne or the gofers and their plans, or the elites and their claim over Kylie and the other two ofthe three bloodlines. All of that is outside, with Kane and Cal as they trail and recon.
There’s no world outside this room.
Only this. Onlyher.
And I can see the beauty in it now—this twisted, powerful thing I’ve been fighting since turning twenty-eight—and the significance in the perfection of it all.
To be fated—destined—is a feeling like no other in this universe. Agift.
Not a curse like I previously thought at all.
“You’re so beautiful,” I tell her, meaning it in ways language can’t contain. “There will never be a more beautiful thing to me. Nothing in this world will ever compare to you.”
Her lips part, and my mouth moves to the thrum in her neck again. But this time, I just rest it there, memorizing the beat and the rhythm of the life that flows inside her.
And begging the universe to keep it that way until the world is no more.
I draw a path of kisses from her neck to her chin, and I don’t stop until I fuse our lips together again. Light and aura dance through the darkness behind my eyes, and waves of indescribable warmth roll through my chest.
I drag my mouth from her throat to her chin and back to her lips, and when I kiss her this time, it isn’t exploratory. It’s raw and primal. She pulls at my shirt like she’s trying to climb inside my skin, and when her fingers can’t move fast enough, frustration flashes across her face.
With swift motions, I tear through the fabric of her robe and her panties.
She gasps, but it’s not in protest. It’s in hunger.
“Rook,” she breathes, and the desperate, downright needy way she says my name makes something feral break open inside me.
I strip myself bare without breaking eye contact. The entire time, her gaze rakes over my body—my shoulders, my arms, my stomach,my cock.
And then, she opens her legs. Forme.
Her gaze deliberately locked with mine the whole time.
Kylie’s bare, pink, perfect pussy is right there, spread wide for my eyes—for my cock—and I can smell her arousal. I can hear the throb of her sensitive flesh.
Every inch of her body is pulling to me like gravity.
I move over her, framing her face in my hands and pressing my forehead against hers for a half second that feels eternal. The tip of my cock just barely brushes against her already wet entrance, and I swear I would forget to fucking breathe if my lungs actually needed oxygen.
Instead, a deep, guttural growl jumps from my throat.
“Show me I’m yours,” she whispers.
And I can’t deny her. Will probably never be able to deny her anything she wants for the rest of forever.
She pulls my face down to hers and kisses me with an intensity that makes my cock jolt toward her body. She moves her hips against me, and I don’t have an ounce of restraint left in my body to hold back.
