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He kissed me again. “Stay with me, Kate.”
“I love you. Where would I go?”
His hold relaxed. I turned in his arms.
“When I finished that rhino and saw you,” he said, “you were walking to me. There were two dead bodies behind you. You were splattered with blood. Your sword was in your hand. You were smiling, Kate.”
“You told me.”
“I would fight the whole world for that smile.”
My heart made a funny little jump in my chest.
“You can’t say things like that.”
“Yes, I can.”
Oh my God. He was looking at me like I was the center of his universe.
“Because you’re the Beast Lord?”
“Because I’m your husband.”
He pulled me closer, and his mouth closed on mine. It was the kind of kiss that seared itself in your memory. It was possessive and hungry, infused with love and lust, a pledge and a declaration in one. It would chase you through the years, and decades later it would remind you, Do you remember how he kissed you? Do you remember what it felt like?
My head was spinning. Every sense had jumped into overdrive. I tasted him, I smelled him, I felt the warmth of his skin and the hard muscles of his body tensing under my fingers.
The kiss ended, and I would have staggered if he weren’t holding me.
He picked me up and carried me into the bedroom, slapping the balcony door shut behind him.
I wound my arms around him and kissed him again, tracing his mouth with mine. His lips pressed against mine, deceptively light.
“Lock the other door,” I whispered into his ear.
“Locked it when I came up.” His voice was a deep rumble.
He sat on the bed, with me in his lap.
Curran’s eyes were a molten gold. We’d been together for over a decade and yet they glowed with an intense searing need.
I slid my hand along his chest, under his T-shirt, feeling the strength in the hard muscle. Strong and warm… He cupped my cheek with his hand, lifting my head at just the right angle and kissed me again, slowly, deeply.
His hands slid under my clothes, stroking my back, pulling me closer to him, and I arched against his touch. Making love with him was more than sex. It was a connection, and I craved him like a woman dying of thirst craved a drop of water.
He pulled my clothes off and let them fall on the floor. The cold air kissed my skin. I shivered.
“Cold?”
He said it like it was a challenge.
“Yes.”
He stripped. “Let me help.”
Yes. I need help. So badly.
He pushed me onto the bed, trapping me under him. The heat of his big, powerful body warmed me, his chest almost searing my nipples. His hands slid along my body, cupping my breasts, stroking, teasing, touching. His thumb brushed against my nipple, and the glide of it sent little shocks through my body. His thick, hard length pressed against me.
He nipped my neck, just below the ear. “Still cold?”
I wasn’t. I was burning up, and he was the only cure. “Yes…”
He smiled. His body slid down. His hands pushed my legs apart. His head dipped.
Oh my God.
The wet heat of his tongue shrank the world to the insistent pressure between my legs. It built with each stroke, until it was so powerful, it was almost too much.
His fingers dipped into me, into the slick heat. He licked me again, and the pressure inside me broke into ecstasy. I floated in it, reveling in the pleasure and somehow shocked it felt that good.
“Need a minute?” he asked, smug satisfaction in his voice.
I pushed him to the side and onto his back. He let me, and I took him into my mouth, sliding my tongue over his blunt head.
He groaned, and the sound of him was so male and irresistibly erotic. I wanted to hear it again.
I sucked.
His hand slid into my hair.
Growl again for me.
I moved, licking, sucking, turning, teasing, pumping…
He snarled, grabbed me, and slammed me onto the bed, caging me with his body. His eyes were two burning coals. He pushed my legs apart and thrust into me.
Yes. That’s what I want. That, right there.
He built to a furious rhythm, and I matched him, cherishing every thrust. Another climax washed over me, dissolving into a sea of bliss. I screamed my way through it.
His body tensed, his muscles shaking. He came with a growl. I opened my eyes. He kissed me.
I loved him so much. My Curran. In the whole world, there was only one of him. I would do anything for him.
Later, as I lay wrapped in his arms, all my worries seemed far away. I felt strong and happy. I didn’t care what tomorrow would bring. Tonight it was just me and him, and nothing else mattered.
11
I found Conlan on the wall. He perched on the parapet as far to the west as he could get and still keep the house in view, a small, compact shape, easy to miss in the pre-dawn light. He was looking at the woods, where a green flag marked the direction of our march.
