by Anne Marsh
“Good girl,” he purred. Resentment flickered through her, but too late. Her nerves were on fire.
He dipped his head, and his fingers stroked through the thick folds of her sex as he parted her. Licked at her again, dragging his tongue through her sensitive flesh. The sensual rasp was her undoing.
“God, Zer.”
Her fingers clamped on the headboard with a death grip as she arched her back, giving in to the incredible pleasure.
His husky groan filled her ears as his hands cupped her ass, separating the cheeks as he devoured her. Her entire world narrowed to him and his wicked touch. She knew she was lifting herself to meet each stroke, and she sure as hell didn’t recognize the throaty moan filling the room. God, what had he done to her? She didn’t care, didn’t care, only wanted more. She wanted to touch him, but he wouldn’t allow that, so all she could do was hang on.
It was going to be so very, very good.
“One finger.” His wicked promise made her sex tighten in unfamiliar anticipation. “Let’s see if you can take that much of me, baby.”
A small cry tore from her throat as he followed up on his promise, sliding a thick finger inside her. She could feel herself opening. Parting before his gentle invasion. God, she was so wet.
His penetration was so damn good. “Zer!” She cried his name, sliding her thighs wider, arching into his touch. His mouth. The wicked press of that talented finger, seeking a hidden spot, rubbing gently.
“One more.” His heated promise was all the warning she got before he slid a second finger inside her, sheathing himself in her. “You can take this.” She could hardly hear the intimate growl of his voice over the blinding pleasure consuming her. “You can take me.”
His groan told her he wanted her, too. He wanted this. She wasn’t alone here.
Sensation exploded, a bright burst of pleasure beating behind her closed eyes. She came long and hard, riding his fingers. Drawing him deeper into her until she didn’t know where she ended and he began.
The erotic stillness of her body as she tried to make sense of an overload of sensations rocked his world, teasing all his senses with sensual promise, and then she melted into his embrace.
Good. “First time, baby,” he promised. He moved up her body, bit lightly at the smooth skin of her throat, marking her beneath her ear. Next time she wore that damn chignon of hers, the whole world would see his mark of possession. Would know that she belonged to him.
He shouldn’t be doing this, but the pleasure was a torment now. So long since he’d felt this sense of welcome. Homecoming. As if, in all the universe, this was the one place he belonged. A male could drown in this pleasure.
Christ, he wanted this to be right for her. For him to be her fantasy the way she was his.
Ruthlessly, he stripped off his boots and pants. Shot a look at the shadows. Solid as a rock, there was his boy. Nael hadn’t moved from his position in the darkness. Safe. So, he slid his weapon under the pillow but didn’t remove the pair of blades strapped to his upper arm. Nael had his back, but no way would Zer risk Nessa now. She was worth too damn much. Losing her wasn’t an option, and for reasons he didn’t want to explore. Not now.
Covering her, he deliberately bore down with his weight, pinning her to the bed. Her husky feminine moan went straight to his head.
“Bond with me,” he growled.
Her answer, when it came, rocked his world.
“Yes,” she groaned, licking at his ear. “You bond with me.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ignoring the unexpectedly primitive pang of possession he felt, he decided he would mark her. She’d never forget the Dominion who’d held her in his arms first. Zer was going to make damn sure of that.
Her hands exploring him weren’t passive. He wanted to throw back his head and howl with the pleasure of it all. Gripping her hips, he pulled her closer, his cock nudging her opening. She was soft and wet. Delicious. He knew exactly how she tasted now.
When he slid deep inside her, her hot, slick passage clung to him even as she struggled to open up to him. Her breath caught.
“Open up,” he growled, his voice rough with arousal. “Let me in, baby.”
The heat building between them was a delicious surprise, her legs wrapping around his waist, her hips rising up to meet him. Her fingers curled around his shoulders. He’d known her touch would be unforgettable, but he hadn’t expected the burning heat that was consuming them both.
Sliding his hands beneath her to cup her ass and pull her harder against him, he pressed deeper. Closer. His entire body was consumed by the building pleasure. He’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted this woman in his arms.
She whimpered, a throaty promise of pleasure as he stretched her, moving deep and hard inside her. Branding her. Shaking with his own need, he took her hard and deep, driving in and out. Her soul was wide open, and the delicious taste seduced him even more thoroughly than the woman had. He had to claim her now. Before he went over the edge. “Bond with me,” he groaned again.
His. She was all his.
“Yes!” Her hips arching up to meet his. He’d meant to make this night unforgettable for her, but now he was lost in the maelstrom of heat and dark pleasure and Nessa. There was no forgetting who he held. “Is that it?” She breathed the words against his skin. Then demanded, “Don’t stop.”
“No, baby,” he growled. “I’m not done with you yet. The favor,” he bit out. “Tell me what you want.” His body was driving into hers as he buried himself deeper with each hard thrust. Pleasure consuming him, eating him alive. Ecstasy and pleasure. Almost pain. She felt so good. So right. He never wanted to stop moving in her. And that almost scared him. Then his cock was throbbing, sinking back into her, and he couldn’t, wouldn’t stop to think about the sensations flooding him. Just held on to this woman and every moment.
“Good. I’m not done with you, either.” Her body twined around his, her teeth sinking into his shoulder. His body clenched in erotic pleasure. His fierce little human. She gave as good as she got. “I want you,” she growled. “All of you. That’s my favor.”
Shock boiled through him, with anger close on its heels. Hell. She had no idea what she was asking. Hadn’t someone warned her? Didn’t she understand how the favor worked? He stared down at her, but it was too late.
Behind them, Nael cursed foully and murmured, “Witnessed.”
The guilt and anger wasn’t enough to stop the orgasm from pounding through him. The incredible, impossible sensations tearing out of him as he poured himself out for her. To her.
“Granted,” he growled through gritted teeth, because he couldn’t refuse, wasn’t allowed to refuse. Michael’s mocking laughter played through his head as he poured himself into her, unable to stop.
The dark ink of the bonding marks blossomed on their skin, wrapping the visible sign of their pairing around their wrists. Tying them together for the whole world to know. The ink didn’t bother him. No, he had the feeling that the real problem was the invisible tendrils of something, some unfamiliar and entirely unwelcome emotion, connecting his soul to hers. With every stroke of his body, every new, dark layer of ink, he felt that connection growing. Binding him every bit as much as it bound her.
Her flesh clenched greedily around his, her hips arching up one last time as her body melted into his. Through their fledgling bond, he felt every soft, sweet clench and throb. He felt her unspeakable pleasure even as her orgasm forced a cry from her lips, and savage satisfaction filled him. She’d come for him. With him. She’d screamed, and he knew nothing, no one, had ever made Nessa St. James lose her careful composure like he had.
She wanted all of him. All. Of. Him.
No way that was a quick fuck and a favor. No way at all.
Resting his forehead against hers, he sucked air into his starving lungs. He didn’t know where to start with her request. Didn’t know how to open up and let her in. Which meant she’d tied them together for a damn long time.
He wasn’t handing her off to one of his brothers anytime soon.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Nessa woke up alone. And, after a night like last night, waking up alone pissed her off. Her body felt pleasantly sore, every inch of her exquisitely aware of the man who had rocked her world.
Unfortunately, that man was nowhere in sight.
Stalking out of the bed, wrapped in his velvet comforter, she managed to make it into his over-the-top-luxurious bathroom. Maybe hot water and soap would improve her mood. Dropping the fabric wrapper, she examined her body in the mirror. He’d been dominant but strangely gentle. Her body was almost unmarked—except for the bonding marks.
Shit.
Pulling a thick cotton towel from a nearby bar, she wrapped the towel around herself, sinking down onto a padded bench in front of the vanity. Bonding marks that were still there.
Keep it together. Genecore’s president had been very, very explicit when he “strongly suggested” that she avoid bonding with any of them. She hadn’t worried about his little “suggestion” because she’d had no intention of doing something so stupid. God. Obviously, she needed to learn how to control her emotions.
And her mouth.
Carefully, she turned her wrists over, examining the marks. Yeah. Everything was so not right here. “What have you gotten yourself into, Nessa?”
This was supposed to be a one-night stand and a favor. She’d deliberately picked an easy favor. A simple favor. Except, clearly, it wasn’t that simple. Her gut was shrieking that she’d be lucky if this turned out to be a one-week stand. Because the damned bonding marks were still there. The marks that were supposed to be gone this morning. Be careful what you ask for.
God. What had she asked for? Reviewing the previous night’s events in her head produced only a deliciously sensual fog and some scattered snapshot memories. Dancing in the club. Pushing Zer’s buttons because she was tired of being pushed around. Succumbing to the heat he raised in her. Demanding that he bond with her—in exchange for what?
Think. How, exactly, had she worded her demand?
The bonding marks were thick, broad swirls of ink around both wrists, a gorgeous pattern of curves and lines extending from the top of her hands, around her wrists, and up her forearms.
She’d never seen this much ink before.
She was in so much trouble.
His new bond mate blew through the doors of his study as if she had hellhounds riding her ass. He considered warning her that the muttered curses preceding her had given him all the heads-up he needed if his goal had been to avoid her. Somehow, though, looking at her face as she strode across his priceless Karabagh rug and slammed her hands onto his desk, he didn’t think she was in the market for strategy tips.
Behind her, Nael looked like a male who was dying by slow inches. He jerked his head up, clearly trying to communicate something of the wordless variety. Too bad the subtlety jerk was lost on Zer. Story of his life, though.
“Leave,” she ordered, not bothering to confirm that Nael was still behind her. No, she took his bodyguards in stride, even if they were flanking her like she was the queen of Sheba.
In her next breath, his new mate fired the opening salvo in her campaign. “We need to talk,” she announced.
“Right,” he agreed, even though he probably should have made her wait. He needed to establish who was in charge here.
Still, he couldn’t stop himself from giving her a quick once-over. She wasn’t carrying concealed, that was for damn certain. He was bastard enough to appreciate the view. His mate was wearing a sexy little cashmere tank top and soft lounge pants that clung to her slim thighs and remarkable ass. Mischka hadn’t bothered finding his bond mate a bra, and the breasts he’d enjoyed so much last night were threatening to spill out of their skimpy confines with each indignant breath she took.
“You left,” she snapped.
Right. He didn’t have much experience with this morning-after stuff. Probably, he should have consulted with Brends, but that male had just shot him a knowing look earlier. When he could have given Zer a heads-up that this shit storm was en route.
Zer made a mental note to return that favor at a later date.
“We had sex. And. You. Walked. Out.” Her eyes drilled holes through his head.
Agreement seemed like the right move. “You wanted me to stay.” It wasn’t a question.
They were bound to each other now, whether they liked it or not. Bond mates, even if they were not meant to be soul mates. Somehow, he needed to work with her.
“Damn right. Or leave sooner. Like—three days ago. But, no.” She leaned forward. The tank top slid down, baring the soft upper curves of her breasts. There was a smug smile on her face. His eyes narrowed. Was she deliberately teasing him? “You waited until you’d pulled this bonding crap, and then you disappeared.” She tugged the top back in place.
“Is this about our bonding?” He propped his feet up on his desk because, Christ knew, he wasn’t interested in using it for paperwork at the moment. No, what he wanted to do was toss his uptight, indignant bond mate onto the antique surface and remind her—intimately—that she hadn’t done a whole lot of complaining last night. He didn’t think she was really in the mood, unfortunately. “Or is this about my leaving?”
She stared at him wordlessly for a moment. Yeah, score one for him. Then she inhaled and, damn, he was a dead man. “I’m pissed about all of it.” She thought for a moment, tapping a finger against the lacquered surface of his desk. “So much for bonds and connections and all that sentimental bullshit you’ve been shoveling. It’s just the same old, same old. You saw something you wanted, and you took it.”
“You had a choice last night,” he pointed out. Behind her, the door closed quietly. Nael getting the hell out of Dodge. “And you made it.”
“I was not fully informed.” Her eyes narrowed. “And you did that on purpose. Undo it. Now,” she snapped. Mmm, she tasted delicious. All that feminine anger, the sweet edge of arousal. He drank in her soul like she was a particularly fine Veuve Clicquot.
“Can’t,” he drawled. “We’re bonded, sweetheart.”
Hell. He’d known from the start that he should have steered clear of her, but she was just too great a temptation. Those long legs and the sweet soap-and-water scent of her, innocence mixed with just a bite of some more exotic scent. He liked his women with a hint of surprise. Maybe it shouldn’t surprise him, then, that all he’d been able to think about when he was around Nessa was burying his cock in her sweet depths and letting the pleasure burn them both.
If she’d known what he really was, she would not have picked him. Unfortunately, as his little professor was learning, desire wasn’t logical, and it sure as hell didn’t care about would-could-should. Even now, the faint, smoky spice of her arousal was driving him crazy. Had him jamming his fingers into his pockets before he reached out and touched her.
“This was supposed to be a one-night stand and a simple favor,” she snapped, and something stabbed him. He didn’t care what she thought about him, did he? He couldn’t feel. Good thing, too, because she was barreling on with her accusations. A lesser man would have been heading for the hills by now. “But this is not looking like a short gig. How long before we’re done?”
“I don’t know,” he gritted through his teeth. “I don’t know, okay, Nessa? What you asked for isn’t something I can pick up in a store, now, is it? You were supposed to ask for your lab. For grant funding.”
“My apologies that my shopping list didn’t match yours. I have a tattoo,” she swore, rubbing at her wrists. “You have any idea how a tenure committee feels about female academics with tattoos, Zer?”
He could guess.
Righteous indignation colored her voice, and he thought she’d come straight over the desk at him. This was not going well. Well, he wasn’t happy, either, was he? She was supposed to be a soul mate. But her choosing him meant that one of his brothers wasn’t getting a soul
mate and therefore wasn’t getting his wings back.
“You,” he said deliberately, “were supposed to be a little bit more than you turned out to be. You, darling, were supposed to be a soul mate.”
“And here I thought you were shopping for a simple bond for a favor,” she mocked.
“Maybe I was in the market for an upgrade. You know what a soul mate is? Happily-ever-after.” He smiled, and he knew he was handling this all wrong, but damned if he could stop the train wreck. The words just kept coming out. “Romance. True love. You females love that shit. You buy it by the truckload. So, what’s not to love about this? When Michael kicked our asses out of the Heavens, he gave us one out clause. Find our soul mates, and we could go back, wings and all.” She stared at him, and he had no clue what was going through her mind. “There was supposed to be one soul mate for each Fallen. One perfect female.”
She stared pointedly toward his back, looking for the damned wings he didn’t have.
“Obviously you’re not my soul mate,” he continued wearily. The bitch of it was, that had to be the truth. He’d bonded with Nessa St. James, had laid it all on the line, but here he was, the morning after, and he still didn’t have his wings back. Worse, unless he figured out an end run around her favor, he was hers for a damned long time, and so it didn’t matter that she should have been a soul mate to one of his brothers. She was stuck with him. And he’d screwed one of his brothers out of his chance of redemption.
Now, she finally looked shocked. “You didn’t really think I was a soul mate, did you?”
He shouldn’t have unloaded the happy news on her like this, but in for a penny, in for a pound, right? “We did. Your name was on Cuthah’s hit list.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “He’s gotten it right before. What did you think there was between us?”
“Pheromones.” She dismissed the strange shock of attraction between the two of them with a casual wave of her hand.
