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Kaysar had made his choice.
Now, they would both live with it.
“What did you do with him?” he asked as his breathing evened out.
“Don’t worry. He’s alive.” It took some effort, but Cookie bottled up her hurt and placed it on a shelf in the back of her mind. Audience forgotten, she stood and molded herself against the man she loved beyond any doubt or reason, her palm flattened over his racing heart.
His breath hitched, and he tentatively wound his arms around her, as if he feared her reaction.
One last night. Desire surging, she rasped, “Take me to bed, Kaysar.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
KAYSAR FLITTERED CHANTEL to their bedroom, materializing at the foot of the bed, but he didn’t kiss her. Not yet. His instincts were pinging again, telling him trouble brewed. But she peered at him with such fervent desire as candlelight bathed her delicate features, he told himself he was mistaken. Only pleasure waited in his future, his dreams coming true right before his eyes.
He had his mate, and he would continue to have his vengeance, the two no longer at odds. Kaysar could hurt Hador Frostline during the day and enjoy Chantel at night. What male in all of Astaria would lead a better life?
His joy knew no bounds. Except for that damningly persistent ping. And a small kernel of unease...set within a larger pod also filled with kernels of disappointment and despair. And he didn’t know why.
Now wasn’t the time to dissect every thought and emotion. He’d missed Chantel too much to lose himself to fear.
Gently smoothing a lock of hair behind her ear, he told her, “You were magnificent today. A fierce protector of your land, and your male.”
“I know.” With a sensual maneuver he would forever replay in his fantasies, she shimmied out of the robe. The dark cloth puddled on the floor as Chantel stood proud before him, wearing azure lace over her breasts and between her legs. Miles and miles of creamy skin, flushed with arousal—and marked with a crimson map.
He looked her over, amazed. Humbled. Awed. When he returned his gaze to hers, her irises were set aflame, blazing with wildfire. “You drew this yourself?” he asked, voice breaking at the edges.
“I used dye the servants made with my roses. It’s the reason I was late to tonight’s festivities. Well, one of the reasons. The map details the palace. The mystical doorway. The treasure troves. I wanted to be perfect for you, no matter what you decided.” A pause. Then, “Do you like it?”
His gaze shot back to hers, the fire in his irises brighter. “I will never part from you. Woe to anyone who tries to take you from me.”
Something shuttered over her eyes, and his heart skipped a beat. Then she purred, “Do you want me naked, Kaysar?”
He forgot every thought but one. “I need you naked, sweet.”
He watched, mesmerized, as she freed her hair from confinement, the dark tresses tumbling into place. The mind-boggling things he felt in that moment... He nearly staggered at the extraordinary weight of them.
“Let me tell you what I need,” she breathed, her eyes hooding. “Your kiss. Your touch on every inch of me. Love my body in a thousand different ways and help me forget the hours we spent apart before and the hours we’ll spend apart next. Give me everything you promised. Hold nothing back.”
Next? The honeyed scent of her desire frayed his control, and he pushed aside his foreboding. “Everything. Nothing,” he croaked. She’d utterly consumed his thoughts. “Show me more.”
She trembled a little as she unhooked the upper garment, bearing her beautiful breasts and their tight ruby nipples. A groan lodged in his throat.
“The rest. Let me see the rest.” Missed her so much. Missed this. The sweet exchange. The sense of communion. The utter peace of passion, every other facet of him shut off.
She dragged her panties down with a waggle of her hips. The cutest kick flung the material away. Then she stood before him, bare.
And he’d thought her proud before. Head high, shoulders back and those lush breasts thrust up for his view, awaiting his caress. “I will play with your body until you scream for me,” he boasted. To seal his vow with a kiss, he dipped his head and sucked on one straining crest, then the other.
Her moan of surrender echoed as she shoved her fingers into his hair. He kissed his way up her sternum. The length of her throat. Straightening, he met her gaze. Dilated pupils, glassy irises. He loved how quickly and intently she desired him.
“I’ll brand your body until you never forget me,” she boasted back.
Awareness crackled in the space between them, the pull stronger than ever before. But even then, he felt as if she were slipping from his fingers. No. He wouldn’t let her. With a snarl, he cupped her backside and her nape in unison, forcing her closer.
