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“I already wear your mark.”
He took her branded hand and breezed his thumb over her palm. “This only tells people that you’re in my service and under my protection. It doesn’t signify who you are to me or who I am to you.”
Personally, Wynter didn’t see why that wasn’t nonetheless enough. But she could see that this was important to him. Maybe more important than he was letting on.
The hand holding hers slid up enough for him to swipe his thumb over her sensitive inner wrist. “The seal would go right here. It would stay there for as long as you’re mine, which means it would be permanent.”
“Would it hold any power over me or anything?”
He shook his head. “It would simply be a symbol of who you are to me and serve as a warning to others that you’re claimed.”
“Would it give you additional rights to my soul?”
“No. Unfortunately. If I could, I would officially own every piece of you.” He leaned forward and planted a hand on the mattress either side of her head. “Say yes, Wynter. I need this from you.”
She could see that he truly did need it. She just didn’t get why. But it didn’t seem to be a simple case of possessiveness. That “need” appeared to run deeper.
She placed her hands on his solid shoulders. “Why? Help me understand.”
“None of the people in my life who were or should have been important to me were really mine, just as I was never theirs. I was denied the basic right to be with my mother. My father wasn’t a father to me. With the exception of Seth, my siblings rejected me. Although Seth and I did talk to each other when we were kids, we had to keep it a secret. Adam would have punished him otherwise.”
And then she got it. For a long time, nobody had ever openly loved or laid claim to him, much as Cain had never been able to outwardly claim anyone as his own. Not even Seth, since they’d had to hide their affection for each other. Which, yeah, totally choked her up.
Wynter understood that Cain needed things to be different with her. She understood that he needed her to officially and publicly accept his claim, even to the extent that she wore proof of it on her skin for all to see. Wynter bit her lip. “If it’s that important to you . . . okay.”
Triumph bled into his dark eyes, heating them. “Okay.” He gave her a soft kiss that he ended with a nip to her bottom lip.
“How exactly will you imprint your seal on me? How does it work?”
“You’ll soon see.”
She narrowed her eyes at the oh so mysterious response. She couldn’t quite tell if he was simply aiming to make her nervous—he did love to mess with her head that way. “Answer me this: Is it going to hurt?”
“A little. You’ll be too dazed to feel the burn.”
“Dazed how? Wait, what burn?” She gasped as a surge of pure pleasure swept over her soul, warm and static . . . making her feel as if every part of her inside and out had been touched. Stroked. Electrified. The sensations were physical yet ghostly at the same time.
Little sparks pricked her skin. Her nipples went taut. Every fine hair on her body stood on end. Her inner walls clenched and dampened. And her nerve-endings felt like they were on fire.
She licked her lips. “More.” The word was a trembly plea.
Cain nuzzled her neck and circled her pulse with the tip of his tongue. “Oh, you’ll get more. More than you can take. But you’ll still take it.”
Yet another wave of bliss breezed over her soul, a hot sting to it this time that felt like a thousand, decadent suckling little bites. She fisted the bedsheet, her back bowing and her head tipping back. Oh, God.
“That’s it,” began Cain, “I like it when you hurt for me.”
More pleasure came. Lashings of it. Some were snaps of hot sensation that were like the cracking of a whip. Others were whisper soft, as if silken feathers stroked over her.
At the same time, he pleasured her body with his mouth and hands. Teeth grazed her neck. Kisses were trailed along her skin. Fingers slipped between her slick folds. His mouth sucked hard on her nipple. His warm hand possessively palmed her breast.
The air gusted out of her lungs as another surge of bliss lightly scraped over her very being . . . like the delicious drag of blunt nails. And as wave after wave of pleasure hit her, she increasingly lost all sense of the world around her—it narrowed down to the soul-deep sensations. She floated and trembled and whimpered.
Something hot and hard inched into her ultrasensitive aching pussy, bringing her back to the physical realm. Her eyes snapped open. Cain knelt above her, one hand clamped around her hip.
He brought his free hand to his mouth and bit hard into his thumb. She saw blood seep to the surface. If he was gonna ask her to drink that—
Cain’s hand gripped hers, and he pressed his bleeding thumb to her inner wrist. He snatched her gaze with his and began chanting in a language she didn’t recognize, his voice low and soft. Power slowly started to gather in the air around them, pulsing like a heartbeat.
