“Not yet,” he said, withdrawing from her. She nearly whined at the sudden loss; it was not enough, not nearly enough. His mouth on her temple had her stilling once more.
“I want to taste you, first.”
He was moving, hands retreating from her skin, a loss that left her cold and wanting. Then he was there again, pushing her onto her back, hovering over her. The light behind her lids darkened as he blocked the morning sun, and even with her eyes closed she could feel the burn of his gaze. Could feel the way he peeled back all her layers, leaving her bare and raw andseen.
She loved it. Just as she loved him.
The mattress sank. He bent lower, pressing his lips to her jaw, her neck, the valley between her breasts. All the way downher body, worshipping every inch of her skin. It could’ve taken two seconds, two minutes, or two years, but finally he reached where she wanted him most, hot breath tickling her through the sheer material. She bucked slightly under him and he chuckled.
“Impatient, are we?” He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her underwear, pulling them off in a single, practiced motion. Her head slid off the pillows as he tugged her forward, her back flattening on the soft mattress. He hiked her legs over his shoulders, burying his head between her thighs.
And inhaled. Deeply.
He groaned, the sound rumbling through her, her toes curling against the muscles of his back.
“This scent,” he growled. “I didn’t realize—” He groaned again. “I missed it more than I thought I could.”
Mariah lifted her head, about to open her eyes, lips parting with a question.
What was he talking about? They’d always been together. This morning was the same as it’s always been.
“Eyes closed, darling. And stay quiet.”
She smiled, collapsing back onto the mattress. But something prickled beneath her skin—something strange and foreign and off.
Of all the names he had for her,darlingwas not one of them?—
Her breath left her lungs when his tongue met her core.
She buried her hand into the thick strands of his hair, her spine arching. She kept her eyes clenched closed, just as he’d commanded. The strange feeling was forgotten as he worked her higher and higher, his movements confident and sure.
“Oh, gods…” Her words faltered, caught in her throat with a gasp.
She could feel his smile against her sensitive flesh. He pulled back from her, her face twisting into a scowl. “Stop teasing me.”
He chuckled. “You may look nothing alike, but it’s amazing how similar you are to Zadione. Your smell”—he drew in a deep breath— “your taste…” His tongue met her core again and she jolted. “Even your words and the sounds you make. It’s just like her.”
That buzzing of wrongness returned, burning brighter this time. Some instinct hidden deep inside her soul screamed wildly for release. She tried to open her eyes but found a leash around her mind, one she hadn’t felt before.
Terror and anger gnashed their teeth as she found herself bound and helpless, grappling for control. He nuzzled into her deeper while she struggled, a finger slipping inside.
It was enough to make panic-laced fury bellow. She wrapped her mind around the burning, shadow-wreathed leash. With all the force she had left to her, all that broken desperation and vengeful rage she usually tried so hard to keep locked away, she cracked the collar around her will.
His command broke. Her eyes flew open.
That beloved face stared up at her with an unfamiliarly cruel smirk twisting his lips.
And instead of tanzanite, his eyes were a flaming, burning red.
Mariah shot up in bed,heart pounding and chest heaving. Her hair was plastered to her face and neck, her skin clammy and hot. The world around her tilted and she just barely managed to twist to the side before emptying the contents of her stomach on the floor.
She closed her eyes, body shuddering, waiting for the lurching in her stomach to stop. A door crashed open, followedby footsteps. A low voice muttered a curse before a calloused hand pushed back her damp, soiled hair.
“Shit, Mariah,” Trefor said. “Are you all right? Was it something you ate? I’ll get you some water and call the housekeepers?—”
“I’m fine, Trefor,” Mariah croaked. She slowly pushed herself up, sheepishly avoiding the foul mess on the floor. Trefor’s sea-green eyes were bright with concern, pale hair standing at wild angles.
She inhaled shakily, her body still settling. “It was just a really, really bad dream.”
