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CHAPTER 14
When he’d first arrived at the villa, Jehan had imagined what Seraphina might look like unclothed and wreathed in the steam of the bathing room as he made love to her. Now he knew. And none of his fantasies were any match for the true thing.
She met his rhythm stroke for stroke. Arousal arced through him with each rotation of her hips, making his vision bleed red as fire filled his gaze. This woman had ruined him for any other. She destroyed him with a smile, with every moan and gasp, and he hadn’t even begun to show her what true pleasure was.
He rocked inside her, balanced on the edge of madness for how incredible they felt together.
Eight nights wasn’t enough.
The part of him that was more beast than man snapped at that tether. Eight nights was nothing. And they had already lost three of them.
The part of him that was nearly immortal demanded much more than that. It wanted forever.
Something he couldn’t give Seraphina.
Not when forever meant one of them would have to give up the life that waited for them on the other side of the handfast.
Real life—the one that she had devoted herself to, and the opposite one he was equally committed to. Real life, where her selflessness had nearly gotten her killed a few hours ago, and where he was the Order warrior whose work revolved around violence and death. Where cowardly men like Karsten Hemmings served diabolical groups like Opus Nostrum.
He couldn’t turn his back on the things that mattered to him any more than he could ask Seraphina to turn her back on hers.
But it was damned tempting to think about forever when they were enveloped within the fantasy of the handfast.
With his arms around her and her legs circling his waist as they moved together, joined beneath the fragrant, steaming water, forever was the only thing on his mind.
Eternity with Seraphina at his side.
As his Breedmate.
Bonded by blood.
The thought sent his gaze to the smooth column of her throat. Her pulse fluttered, beating with a rhythm he could feel echoing in his own veins. His fangs, already elongated from passion, now throbbed with an equally primal need.
A dangerous, selfish need.
One bite and there would be no other woman for him as long as he lived. All it would take was a single taste. Everything Breed in him pounded with the urge to sink his fangs into her flesh and take that binding sip.
Equally strong was his need to bind Seraphina to him by blood as well. If she drank from him, she would belong to no other male. His forever.
He couldn’t do that to her.
He wouldn’t.
Instead he guided her toward a fevered climax, driving into her body with all the hunger that rode him in his blood. He gave her pleasure, moving relentlessly until she broke apart in his arms on a scream.
Then he pivoted her around and moved in behind her to follow her over the edge.
As he came inside her on a shout, he couldn’t dismiss the cold knowledge that the clock on their time together was ticking—so fast he could feel it in his bones.
Eight nights with Seraphina wasn’t enough.
But somehow, at the end of it, he was going to have to find the strength to let her go.
CHAPTER 15
Sera woke from a long sleep later that morning feeling drowsy and sated. Sore in all the right places. She couldn’t curb the smile that crept over her face as she recalled the hours she’d spent in the bathing room making love with Jehan. Their sex had been exhausting and incredible—which, she was beginning to realize, was the norm where he was concerned.
He was a tireless, wickedly creative lover. When she’d lost count of her orgasms and was sure she couldn’t take any more pleasure, he had lifted her from the steaming pool and carried her to one of several nests of plump cushions and silk pillows on the floor for another bone-melting round.
