LANEK
Ifreeze, waiting for her answer. Every muscle in my body is locked tight, caught between the overwhelming need to take what I know is mine and the desperate human requirement that she choose me willingly. My hands grip her hips hard enough that I know I'm leaving marks, five points of pressure on each side where my fingers dig into her soft flesh.
The silence stretches. She's breathing hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her pupils blown wide with desire. But she hasn't answered.
"Quinn." My voice comes out rougher than I intend, almost a growl. "I need the words."
Her hands are still on my chest, fingers splayed across my tattoos. I feel her tremble slightly, and for one terrible moment I think she's going to push me away. Going to tell me this was a mistake. That the human panic that made her run before is going to win again.
Then her fingers curl, nails biting into my skin, and she looks up at me with those fierce blue eyes that have been haunting my dreams since the moment she waltzed into my shop covered in sweetness and righteous fury.
"I'm yours," she whispers. "I'm yours, Lanek. I don't know what that means or how this is supposed to work between us, but I'm—I can't fight it anymore. I'm yours."
The relief that crashes through me is so intense it's almost painful. My forehead drops to hers and I have to take a shuddering breath before I can speak.
"Say it again."
"I'm yours." Her voice is stronger this time, more certain. "Now stop talking and?—"
I don't let her finish. My mouth crashes against hers and this kiss is nothing like the careful exploration from before. This is claiming. This is mine. This is every primal instinct I've been suppressing for weeks finally unleashed.
She makes a small sound of surprise that turns into a moan as I lift her completely off the table, her legs wrapping tight around my waist. I turn, pressing her back against the wall hard enough that the whole structure shudders. A rack of cooling pastries rattles somewhere to my left but I don't care. The only thing that matters is the woman in my arms, finally admitting what I've known since the beginning.
"Do you have any idea," I growl against her throat, my tusks grazing the delicate skin, "how long I've waited to hear you say that?"
"Probably about as long as I've been lying to myself about it." Her fingers thread through my hair, tugging hard enough to make me groan. "Lanek, I need?—"
"I know what you need." I nip at her pulse point, feeling it jump beneath my lips. "I know what you need, little baker. And I'm going to give it to you. But first—" I pull back just enough to look at her, to drink in the sight of her completely undone, dress rucked up around her hips, lips swollen from my kisses, eyes glazed with want. "First, I'm going to take my time. I'm goingto make you understand that you're not just mine for tonight. You're mine forever."
She shivers at the possessive promise in my voice, but instead of pulling away she arches against me. "That's a pretty big claim from someone who started this by leaving a bloody steak on my doormat."
The fact that she can still mouth off even now, even like this, makes me want her even more. "That was a courtship gift. A very traditional, very appropriate courtship gift."
"It was terrifying."
"You're not terrified now." I roll my hips against her and she gasps, her nails digging harder into my shoulders. "Are you, Quinn?"
"No." The word comes out breathless. "I'm not terrified. I'm—God, Lanek, I need you to move. I need?—"
I silence her with another kiss, slower this time but no less intense. My hands find the zipper at the back of her dress and I drag it down carefully, despite the way my fingers want to just rip the fabric away. When the dress falls loose I peel it off her shoulders, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it over her head and toss it aside.
The sight of her nearly bare in front of me, wearing nothing but a simple white bra and matching underwear, makes me roar to life. She's so small compared to me, so delicate, all soft curves and pale skin. The rational part of my brain that's been trying to be civilized, to be gentle, to follow human courtship protocols, finally goes completely quiet.
"Mine," I rumble, running my hands up her sides, feeling her shiver beneath my touch. "All of you, Quinn. Mine to protect. Mine to pleasure. Mine to keep."
"Yes." She's arching into my hands, desperate for more contact. "Yes, yours. Now will you please?—"
I hook my fingers in her underwear and drag them down her legs, letting them fall to the floor. Then I drop to my knees in front of her, ignoring her surprised gasp, and throw one of her legs over my shoulder. The new angle puts her exactly where I want her, spread open and vulnerable and completely at my mercy.
"Lanek, what are you—oh."
I don't answer with words. Instead I lean forward and taste her, one long slow drag of my tongue that makes her cry out and grab at my hair for balance. She tastes like salt and sweetness and something uniquely her, and I know instantly that I'm never going to get enough of this. Never going to get enough of her.
I take my time, learning what makes her gasp and what makes her moan. Learning which spots make her legs shake and which make her pull my hair hard enough to hurt. I hold her hips steady with my hands, keeping her exactly where I want her despite the way she's trying to rock against my mouth.
"Please," she's begging now, her fingers twisted in my hair, her other hand braced against the wall for balance. "Please, Lanek, I can't—I need?—"
I know what she needs. I slide two fingers inside her while my mouth focuses on the sensitive bundle of nerves that makes her whole body jerk, and within seconds she's coming apart above me, crying out my name as her body clenches tight around my fingers.
