Page 74 of The Temptation of Roan Island

“But what about⁠—”

He sets his fingers over my lips. “Pippa,” his voice is stern. “No more arguments based on anything other than what you want. If you don’t want this, tell me now. But as far as I’m concerned, you’re my wife. Mrs. Shemaiah Roan.”

“You’re so certain?”

“About this, yes.” He wraps his arms around me, tilts my chin, and kisses me. All the disjointed pieces of my life slowly fall into place like puzzle pieces that fit perfectly. We were always supposed to end up here, even if we can’t stay here.

When he pulls back, his eyes are as dark as night. “Now, Mrs. Roan, I’d like to take you to bed.”

31

SHEMAIAH

Ihold Pippa’s hand as we walk back to our room, working hard to control the urge to drag her down the hall. Goddess, I want to shove her against the wall right here, but the anticipation is its own kind of hunt, and I relish it.

Licking my teeth, I inhale her sweet scent. My mouth waters. The air between us sparks like the electric lights in the hall. My cock pushes against the seam of my pants, eager to break free. Tonight it won’t just be Pippa’s blood I taste. I squeeze her hand and speed up. We’re still too far from the room.

“Shemaiah.” The strain in Pippa’s voice has me stopping in my tracks.

She’s flushed and breathing hard.

Fuck, I was pushing her too fast.

“Kiss me, Shemaiah.” She runs a hand up over her bodice, then reaches out to touch me. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Oh! It’s not fatigue. It’s arousal. And, goddess, it smells good.

I groan at the lustful gaze in my sweet Pippa’s eyes. Without a single drop of venom, she’s already so perfectly needy for me.

I lean toward her and press my face into the crook of her neck. “I’m not going to claim you in a dank airship hallway, Mrs. Roan. The first time my cock is in your sweet cunt, you’re going to be spread out on a bed where I can savor you for hours.”

She shivers, and I smile before pressing my lips to her hot skin. “Do you like that idea, wife?”

Pippa wraps her arms around my neck. “Kiss me, Shemaiah.”

“So impatient.”

Her hands run over my shoulders, across my chest. “I’m tired of patience and control and questioning every decision. I want to live my life while I can. I want to be daring and brave. I don’t want to wait.” She presses herself against me. “Touch me, Shemaiah.”

Walking her backward, my fangs break free, puncturing my bottom lip. I press her back against the wall, and Pippa gasps as I drag the sharp points along her neck, not hard enough to break the skin and give me what I want, but enough to make her tremble. “Is touch all you want, wife?”

Goddess, I love calling her that.

She shakes her head.

“I’m going to give you what you need, but then, you’re going to let me take my time with you.” I lower to my knees and take hold of the hem of her skirt. Her breath hitches. She looks down the hall in one direction, and then the other, biting her lower lip.

I chuckle. “Having second thoughts?”

“You’ll hear if anyone comes?”

“Yes.” I touch her ankle and drag my hand up her calf to the back of her knee. “I can stop if anyone’s coming. Unless you want me to keep going. We could give them quite a show.”

“No.” Pippa shakes her head. “Just us.”

I smile, then duck under her skirts, letting the fabric fall over my shoulders. The scent of her arousal is stronger here, nearly knocking me over, so good, so sweet. I barely scent the illness—maybe not at all. I drag my teeth up her thigh above her stocking and moan against her bare skin.

“Shemaiah.” There’s a lovely quiver in her voice.