“It’s a pity I only have the one on me,” she said sarcastically. He slapped her ass with his other hand, earning a delighted gasp from her.
He sounded like a dying man. “Fuck, Solveig, you’re killing me.”
When he threw her on the bed, her loose robe fell open. His eyes darkened as he took her in, pulling his shirt over his head to expose his defined muscles and tempting tattoos. She raked her eyes down his chest, following all the dips and valleys.
“Why not?” he said roughly.
She shook her head, her mouth curling. He moved one hand across his pants and slowly undid the belt at his waist, whipping it out and tossing it to the side. He flipped the button open and his pants fell a fraction, his hip bones jutting out. Dark hair dusted the skin above his pelvis, where muscles trailed down and disappeared below his waistband.
Her mouth went dry.
He knelt on the bed, parting her legs and climbing onto all fours overtop of her.
“How about now?” His voice was husky, his eyes dark.
She shook her head again, running her hands up the length of his chest, feeling the textured skin and hair that bloomed at his heart. It was all she allowed herself to do. Though most of her body was screaming at her, her heart insisted they needed more time. She trusted her heart more than her lady bits, so that’s the body part she would listen to.
He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath as he lowered himself. He was everywhere.
“Why are you torturing yourself?” She leaned up to whisper in his ear, her tongue licking up the side of his neck. Okay, that was all she’d allow herself.
“Because I can’t think with you this close.” He groaned with need, pressing into her. She felt his size through his pants and fought with her heart for a little more of him, wanting so much to have him inside her, to claim him.
But she couldn’t.
“West,” she said as she pushed him back a little. He removed his weight from her immediately. If only she could grab him and bring him back down, sink into his warmth.
“We have unfinished business, you and I. And adding sex, not to mention a mating bond, will just bury our problems.”
She continued to push him until he lay on his back, his eyes wild and his muscles strained, as if resisting the urge to take control. But he allowed her to lead as she pressed him into the bed. When he reached for her, she slipped off the wide mattress, readjusting her robe, closing it.
“So it’s not because you can’t stand to have me as a mate?” he asked, vulnerability shining in his eyes.
Her heart wavered in her decision, but she steeled her spine and placed herself between his legs, leaning down to kiss him. “I am honoured to be your mate, but I wish to wait until things are more settled between us.”
He nodded, a crease forming between his brows. A lock of hair fell over his face and Solveig reached up to brush it away. When she made to pull her hand back, he stopped her, pressing her palm against his cheek. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
“You already smell like mine,” he said. He opened his eyes and stared directly into her soul with those deep green irises. “Whatever you need, whatever I can do to make this right, I’ll do it.”
“I know you will. As will I. I will not let the actions of others dictate my life, and I will not turn my back on you, bond or not.”
That seemed to surprise him.
“What?” she asked, his reaction not what she’d expected.
“I just ... I guess I didn’t know if you were accepting me because I was your mate. If the bond was the only reason you were giving me a chance.”
Solveig swiped her thumb across his cheekbone. “I would have married Steffen”—she ignored the way he stiffened under her—“but I would have been miserable. He is a fine male, and I quite like him—oh, do not give me that look.” Here she was, trying to explain her feelings and his fucking male pride was getting in the way. He was going to be a nightmare to deal with while they remained unmated.
“Can you not speak of other males right now?” he said through clenched teeth.
“I’ll damn well speak of what I want to, and this is important. Without knowing about our bond, I would have married him, as was my duty. Our life would have been pleasant, and I’m sure our younglings ...”
Alright, she had to accept that she probably shouldn’t talk about having babies with someone else. The rage in his eyes, the need to claim her, had her thighs wet. His nostrils flared.
“Solveig ...” he warned. He closed his eyes again but this time held his breath, as if that would stop her scent from permeating his senses.
His own scent was overwhelming, suffocating her with need. Why couldn’t they mate? They could solidify their bond and still work on their issues. Maybe it would even help. Fuck, she couldn’t think.
