Page 120 of Bound By the Sleeper’s Harp

“I won’t argue with that.” His eyes heated with the admission. He set Teddy on the floor then came over to me, hooking an arm around my waist. “Now, didn’t you say something about sex?”

A choking sound came from across the room. “Can you please not?!”

I barely had time to shoot Vivi a grin.

“Sorry about this, sugar.” Black shadows wrapped around us again, taking both of us and the duffle bag slung over my shoulder. I was falling…falling…falling. When my feet were on solid ground, I didn’t feel as nauseous as I had before. I took a deep, steadying breath.

“You good?” Bastian studied me and I nodded. “Good.”

He pulled my bag from my shoulder and scooped me up into his arms, carrying me up the porch stairs. At the door, he punched in the code and temporarily disarmed the system, then carried me inside, kicking the door closed behind us.

“Want a drink?” he asked.

“Later,” I breathed.

He carried me to my room, then tossed my bag aside and walked me into the bathroom. My stomach bottomed out as he lifted my bloodied shirt from my body, then slid my leggings down. I stood and watched as he stripped away his own clothes, tossing them aside. Then he lifted me by my buttocks, forcing my legs around him, and carried me into the shower stall. He turned on the water, shielding me from the cold as it sprayed out and heated.

His lips found mine as he pressed me against the tile, grinding his cock against the apex of my thighs. I groaned, my hands slipping over him, looking for purchase. I pulled his long hair back behind him, then tangled my fingers in it. He growled, pressing his cock more firmly against me.

Sparks erupted at the contact.

“Mate,” he breathed. “Mine.”

Possessive words. The words of a goblin.

The muscles in my core clenched. I tightened my legs around him, rocking my hips. A hand slipped between my legs, fingers toying with me. My breaths came out shaky.

“So wet already, baby girl?” He massaged me, spreading my wetness around, coating me entirely before dipping a finger inside, pushing it deep. My hips bucked against him.

“More,” I whined, needing all of him. One finger became two. My hips continued to rock, desperately needing release.

His hands went to my thighs, and he moved me into position. The head of his cock was at my opening, then pushing in. Then he backed out and gave a single thrust, sheathing himself fully. We both groaned at the feel of it, our mouths meeting, tongues dueling in a mess of lips and teeth. His body flickered and his glamor fell away. Pointed teeth nipped at my lower lip. I felt the metal of his piercing against my clit and a shiver wracked me.

“Yes!” I breathed, clenching around him. “Yes. More.”

“So demanding, little female. I would never deny you.” He pulled out, then slammed back in, sending a tremor through my body, a zing from the piercing. My body went molten, erupting with heat as I sucked in a breath. He did it again, and again, until his hips rolled powerfully against mine.

My panting turned to gasps as the ache between my legs built. As I trembled in his arms.

I’d almost lost him—almost lost this. Things could have gone very differently today. If the authorities hadn’t shown up in time. If Bastian hadn’t overpowered Marsh’s compulsion. If the mate bond didn’t have the power to heal me. So many ifs. But I’d succeeded, and we were here now, and I intended to make the most of it. There were still things to discuss between us, but for now, here in this moment, our bodies and the primal thing between us was all that mattered.

41

Bastian carried his naked mate to her bed. It smelled like her, and that’s exactly where he wanted to be, bathed in her scent, surrounded by it, buried in her cunt. He’d come so close—so fucking close—to losing her. He’d been there the whole time, deep within the recesses of his mind, a slave to the compulsion. When she’d appeared in that warehouse, he’d felt a fear he’d never known. The fear of profound loss.

It had taken every ounce of his strength to fight Marsh Thadur’s order. Had they not been mates, had she been anyone else, he would not have hesitated. Unlike Barbara, his blade was lethal. He knew how to kill, knew how to remove a head with a single, efficient swipe. Hers would have rolled. Instead, by some grace, Barbara had stabbed her and the mate bond between them had kept her alive, had healed her.

He would have followed her to the grave. This fierce female with pink hair had changed him. Now that he’d had a taste, in no life, in no world, could he give her up.

He crushed his mouth to hers, dragging the covers up and around their bodies, still damp from the shower, cocooning her in, making her comfortable in this nest of a bed. He planned to take pristine care of her, starting with fulfilling her every desire. How many orgasms were too many? And how long could she sustain the onslaught of his tongue, his cock? He planned to find out.

She kissed him back, dragging her tongue along his, groaning and grinding against him.

She’d professed her love earlier. It was the key that allowed him to rally his strength. That had been what finally snapped him out of the artifact’s haze, bringing his consciousness to the forefront. Hearing those words on her lips, so desperate, hearing the truth in them.

Had anyone ever loved him this way before? No, not really. Sara’s love had been false. His parents’ love had been paternal. But Eleanor? She loved him, and it was a precious thing he didn’t deserve.

Pulling away, he placed open mouthed kisses along her neck, nipping at her earlobe. Her breath caught. His hands ached with the need to explore every inch of her soft skin. The sight of his against hers, silvery-gray to lightly tanned, felt erotic. She was so different from him, and it was that difference that he cherished.