“You are, sweetheart,” he insisted softly. “I warned you before, and I’ll warn you again. I’m keeping you.”
She wanted so badly to argue, but he silenced her protest with another hypnotizing move of his tongue.
“You have my vow of protection,” he whispered, almost reverently. “My vow of partnership.”
She shuddered as his words settled somewhere deep inside her, in a sacred place occupied by her soul. Such intensity, spoken as a heartfelt promise she couldn’t deny.
They barely knew each other, and yet, that sacred place inside her recognized him. It bloomed and welcomed his pledge and reciprocated in kind.
Whatever the Fates had seen, whatever they believed could happen, had nothing on the power of the bond forming between them.
A part of Caro longed to hate Sethios, while the other part—the part she revered most—started to open to the possibility of a future. A forbidden blood bond.
“All right.” She barely recognized the rasp in her voice or the words falling from her lips. But he needed to hear them. Just as she needed to say them. “We’ll work together. As a team.”
His gaze captured hers as he lifted his head from between her legs. “Then I’m yours, Caro. Whatever you need.”
Her pulse raced as she nodded, agreeing to whatever pact they’d just formed between them. For the future of their child. For their future.
He cupped her face and brushed his lips over hers, finalizing their agreement. And she realized with a start that this was their first kiss.
Sethios had done unspeakable things to her body, but not this, making it a far more affectionate moment than everything else. Especially as his tongue gently entered her mouth to mate with hers.
The taste of her arousal infiltrated her senses, kicking up her heartrate even more, and the tenderness quickly turned to heat. Her thighs gripped his legs in a silent urge for more, and he grinned against her mouth.
“You want me to fuck you,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Tell me. Say the words.”
“Fuck me.” Caro didn’t expect them to be so easy to say, but they fell from her mouth without preamble. Not because he demanded it, but because the crude request felt right. From what she knew of Sethios, he didn’t make love; he fucked.
“Mmm, beautiful.” He traced her lower lip with his tongue and lightly nipped her. “Sadly, I must decline.”
Decline? “What?”
“This was for you,” he murmured, his thumb wiping the moisture away from the edge of her mouth. “And you’re not ready to beg me yet.”
“I… What?” That made no logical sense.
“Delayed gratification, Caro. Trust me.” He winked and pulled away, fixing her skirt as he went. “Now, I’ve had a delectable snack. What about you? Ready for lunch yet?”
“Lunch?” she repeated, utterly confused.
“Yes.” He touched her hot chocolate mug with the back of his hand. “This appears to have cooled enough for you to drink now. You work on that, and I’ll fix you something to eat.”
She looked at the cup and then back at him. “I want sex, not food.”
He grinned. “You have no idea how much I love hearing you say that.”
“Then fuck me.” Again it came out so easily. She might start using the word more liberally. It was quite fun.
“Oh, I intend to. But you need food first.”
Caro gaped at him. He’d practically demanded she fornicate the first night they met. Now he was saying no? “I don’t understand.”
“You require nutrients, Caro. I’m feeding you.”
