"I'm not talking about fate." His eyes were grave. "I think you saw or sensed me a month ago, wanted me, and paired us in your mind. From that moment on, your body would have accepted only my blood."
"My God. Just when I think you can't get any more egotistical, you go and prove me wrong." He didn't respond, just waited.
"This is crazy." Yes, crazy. But as she thought back to their first meeting, she remembered how she'd smelled two scents on him, both of them familiar. One had been Macy's. The other, his. Again her stomach twisted painfully.
His cell phone buzzed, disrupting the uneasy quiet. He checked the ID, muttered a curse, then placed it at his ear. "Yeah?"
A moment passed.
His expression hardened. "Don't kill them." Another pause. "Yeah, I'd love some. Tomorrow, though." There was a heavy tension-laden pause. "Later." He closed the phone and shoved it in his pocket.
As wonderfully as her ears were now working, she'd heard every word on the other end. Apparently three other slavers had entered her apartment, and Dallas had wanted to know if Devyn desired "a little alone time with them." But when Dallas had said, "Now let's talk about your promise to Mia," Devyn had replied, "Later," and hung up on him.
"What did you promise Mia?"
He blinked at her. "Excellent hearing, I see."
Had the other vampires not heard as well? Even sated with blood? "You're stalling. Tell me."
"I'm not stalling. I'm refusing to answer. Learn the difference. Right now we're in the middle of a discussion. A discussion we will finish."
Her eyes narrowed on him. "We're finished now. I'm not married to you. And if you're right and I need to drink from a man, a husband, to survive, I'll find someone else."
She never saw him move, but he was in her face a moment later, his nose pressing into hers, his warm breath fanning over her skin. "Maybe I'll let you. But not now. Not today. Today you're mine. You made sure of that."
"Fuck you," she growled up at him.
"Yes. You will. Many times, I'm sure." He grabbed her knees and pried her thighs apart, jerking her forward while inserting himself in the V. "You can't tell me some part of you isn't happy about this."
She gasped, but didn't pull away. "Believe me, happiness is not what I'm feeling right now."
A muscle twitched below his eye. "Well, then. I guess that makes you more like my first wife than I'd realized."
Wait. What? "You've been married before?”
“Yes. But again, not by choice."
Her confusion was only growing. "Then why—"
"No more talking. I've never been this angry in my life, and you're going to help me calm down." He arched into her, his erection brushing against her core. "Do you know how you're going to help me calm down, sweetheart?"
"I can guess." She hated how breathless she sounded. How needy. "No objections?"
"No. I'm angry, too."
Before the last word had emerged, his lips were meshed into hers and his body was pushing her backward, against the lounge. His c**k was long, hard, and thick, rubbing between her thighs, insistently this time, making her wet, hot.
Her hands were in his hair before she could stop them, her tongue thrusting against his. His decadent flavor filled her mouth, drugging her, luring her deeper into the darkness of his passion. Just then, she couldn't make their current situation or the future matter. Right now he was with her, in her arms, hers for the taking, kissing her, touching her just right, and she'd been without him for days, an eternity surely, craving him, hoping for this very thing.
He'd lose interest in her afterward. He wouldn't be able to help himself. That was just who he was. He'd forget the whole marriage thing, and then, so could Bride. Her life could return to what it had been. Only, now she had Macy.
His fingers pried at the waist of her pants. When the tie refused to loosen, he ripped it in half and shoved the material to her knees. He had to pull from the kiss to work them to her ankles, and she moaned at the loss.
"Not done with your mouth, sweetheart. Don't worry."
"Hurry." She didn't want to come to her senses and talk herself out of this. She wanted him pumping inside her, deep and hard and forever. No, no. Not forever. Today. Only this once. "I ache for you."
One boot, two, were discarded, the pants finally free of; her body, and then Devyn returned, pinning her down, tongue wild against hers. "I want you. Have to have you."
She tugged at his shirt, jerking it over his head before dropping it on the floor. She traced her fingers over his skull-and-dagger tattoo. Such soft, warm skin. "I'm not going to beg you for it."
"No need. That's not on the menu until tomorrow."
She almost laughed. She did plant her heels on the edge of the lounge, widening her knees and inviting him closer. With a groan of surrender, he sank against her, the fabric of his pants wonderfully abrasive against her, the panties she wore doing little to shield her.
"Have you thought of me these past few days? Doing this? Touching you?" He kissed his way down her throat.
"I was too busy."
"Bride." It was a warning. He placed his lips just over her hardened nipple, his warm breath teasing her even through her bra, as if he wouldn't give her greater contact unless she told him what he wanted to hear.
As if she'd admit to imagining the two of them together like this. "Why do you care?”
“I don't."
"I didn't think so. So shut up and finish undressing me."
His eyes, already hot, became searing. He gripped her panties and jerked them down her legs. He bunched the hem of her shirt and tugged upward, her hair falling around her in tangles as the material left her. The bra he simply ripped in half, the front clasp no more resistant than a whisper.
Then she was bare. His gaze drank her in, his pupils dilating. His fingers inched up her naked thighs and spread her for his view. "Wet," he praised. "Pretty."
"Inside. Now."
Never one to obey, he lowered his head and licked her. She cried out, her back arching, hips shooting straight in the air. Reaching back, she grabbed the edge of the chair. It was either that or fist his hair and hold him down. Strong as she was feeling, she was afraid of breaking his neck. If she broke his neck, he wouldn't be able to finish this.
"Better than honey," he said, his voice tickling her. "Better, even, than your energy."
As he continued to lick and suck and nibble at her, he kneaded her br**sts, attacking her from every angle. "Oh, God," she gasped when his wicked tongue flicked and circled in a naughty rhythm she'd never before experienced.