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“But…”
“You expected me to be angry?”
She nodded faintly.
“I understand why you drew those conclusions about me.” He curled his fist around the handkerchief. “Anyone would do the same with the limited amount of information you had. I should’ve known you’d go looking—crusading—on your own. You’re not the type of woman who sits on her hands, waiting for someone to call while others are being exploited.”
He stepped forward. One corner of his lips lifted. “I, along, with most of my kind, have a trust issue. Generally, wariness has served me well. With you, it has not.”
“You did trust me.” She stepped forward until her breasts almost brushed his chest. Her eyes were luminous when she raised them to his. “You trusted me not to kill you.”
“I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go on without my mate, Caro.” His words emerged raw and without thought. He couldn’tnottouch her any longer, even if just to tuck a strand of golden hair behind her ear and graze his knuckles along her cheek. When she leaned into the caress, he lingered, her skin like satin under his fingers. Every muscle in his body tightened, aching to take her in his embrace, to sink into her soft, hot mouth, to kiss every inch of her skin, to plunder her body until she screamed his name.
For several moments she searched his face, perhaps trying to discern if he told the truth, perhaps to reject his words. Each second seemed to rip a little time from his soul. When he’d decided he would tell her he understood she could not feel the same, her face softened and she said softly, “So, that is why my spirit, my body recognized yours from the moment we met, like we were connected somehow.” She pointed at her heart, then placed her finger over his own as delicately as a hummingbird.
With the wonder in her breathy words, the air which had been trapped in his chest rushed out, and his desire for her cindered a path through his veins.
His heart hammering against his ribs, he trailed his fingers from her cheek, her neck, to the spot where her feather-light touch continued to burn a brand on his skin. He covered her hand with his. “There are some who believe a matchmaker’s word, say he can see the bond between soulmates as a red string connecting hearts.”
“I don’t need some mythical matchmaker to tell me we belong together.”
The sexy, wry twist of her lips called to him like a siren, one whom he could not resist. He lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers, almost afraid she’d be a conjured wraith and disappear with his slightest touch.
She gasped and clutched at his shoulders, pulling him closer, pushing her lips against his. She fit herself against him, rubbing her breasts against his chest, seemingly impatient with his gentleness.
Desire roared through him and with a groan, he put his hands on either side of her face and explored her hot mouth. While his tongue dueled with hers in a mating dance that his cock demanded he imitate, he maneuvered her backward several steps until her spine met the wall. He curled one hand behind her head and moved the other to her breast, kneading, then rolling her tight, furled nipple between his fingers.
Her lips fell away from his with her moan, and he shifted his mouth’s focus to her neck, trailing wet kisses down her delicate skin and adding light scrapes of his fangs. He ripped open her shirt, pulling the sides apart and capturing the hard bud underneath her bra. The strangled gasps which emerged from her when he nipped and suckled one nipple while toying with the other made his cock pulse. The tightness against his fly became gloriously unbearable.
She reached down and the squeeze of her fingers around his dick almost undid him. He would come before he even entered her, maybe even before he removed his pants.
She lifted her lids with a smile that would do a succubus proud, then put a restraining hand on his arm as he made to scoop her up, take her to bed, and do his best make sure she orgasmed before him.
Her smile stoked the heat burning through his blood. “What?” His voice, low and rough through his harsh breaths, sounded foreign to his ears.
With a secret smile, she turned away from him, the set of her shoulders proud, head unbowed. “I am ready to repay you, Ryn.”
His mouth dried while his cock jumped, straining against his pants, a pain/pleasure he would make last as long as he could.
Where had the silk gone? He scrambled to find the handkerchief he’d dropped at some point. While he took his time folding the square, he ruthlessly suppressed the shake in his fingers. He was humbled she trusted him enough to blindfold her, lead her where he will.
Doto her what he will without her knowing when the next kiss, the next stroke, the next bite would come or where.
Once he tied the knot, he trailed kisses across one shoulder, ending with a nip on the apex, which almost drew blood. Her moan and his name on a harsh exclamation urged him to do exactly what his body demanded.
Not yet. He had one more surprise for her today. He fished in his pocket and pulled out a chain with a simple moonstone pendant set in ten karat gold.
For a moment, he admired the smooth jewel which flashed bright white within a carved, floral setting. Late eighteen hundreds, if he had his guess, and worth a pretty penny back in that time. Luckily, fashion had turned away from those semi-precious stones. He smothered a laugh. He would’ve paid ten times—one hundred times—the cost to recover this piece for her. A foreign sense of doubt crept into his mind. Would she appreciate his gesture?
When he draped the delicate links around her neck, she jumped, indicating she anticipated his touch. He smiled as he hooked the clasp, then smoothed his hands down her shoulders, turning her to face him. The modest necklace clashed with her shirt’s wanton destruction. Perfect. He couldn’t imagine any other ornamentation which would suit better.
She trembled a bit under his hands, but not from fear. The musky scent of her arousal told him she wanted this as much as he. Finally, she asked, “What—what is it?”
He paced around her until he stood behind her once more, then leaned forward and murmured in her ear, “I’ll show you.”
He guided her to the tiny bathroom, where there was room enough for only her standing in front of the mirror. Her light bulbs had burned out, but she could see perfectly well in the dark. The dim light filtering from the living area would provide ample illumination.
“Take off your blindfold.”
