by Dana Archer
“You felt our bond even as I ignored it, hoping to force you to seek attention from another man. I knew that was why but—”
“You wanted to torture me?” Pushing my heels harder against my eyes, I fight the bitter laugh building in my chest. It escapes anyway, the sound a little demented. “Well, it worked. I hated myself for being so pathetic I couldn’t stop dreaming about a man who obviously viewed me as unattractive or stupid or something that you wouldn’t even look at me.”
“I never viewed you as unattractive or stupid.”
Frustration builds, causing tears to well. I squeeze my eyelids, refusing to cry over this hardheaded man. “Then why? You recognized me as your true mate. You saw how I acted around you. Why did you torture me, letting me think I wasn’t good enough for you?”
“Because.” Ilan draws one of my hands down. A splash of light from the kitchen illuminates one of his eyes and a section of his mouth. The intensity in his gaze stills my breath. “I let love blind me. Turn me into a fool, exactly as my goddess warned me against. I couldn’t help it. You’re so pure, so innocent, so sweet. I wanted to save you.”
Wide-eyed, I stare at him. He can’t be serious. “You wanted to save me? From you?”
With his gaze locked on mine, he dips his head. “But there’s no hope for you now. This baby’s sealed your fate.”
“Because you need someone to take care of him.” The thought’s crossed my mind. Several times.
“Because I need what only you can give me.”
“Power.” I force the word past my lips.
“Yes, Sara.” Ilan twines our fingers and draws me close, the baby once again forcing us to keep a respectable distance. “But I’ll make your confinement pleasurable. I promise you that.”
“Confinement?” I step back, but I can’t escape. Ilan’s firm grip won’t allow me to run. I’ve lost my chance. “Do you plan on locking me up somewhere?”
A steady tug on my arm draws me forward. Ilan leads us deeper into the living room and lays the sleeping newborn in the bassinet. He skims his fingertips over the little boy’s cheek before turning and pulling me flush against his body. I let out a little oomph. He holds me close, so close every breath he takes pushes his chest to mine, then he brushes his nose over the sensitive spot right below my ear. “Yes, Sara, there’s no escape for you. Darkness owns you.”
My pulse kicks up. Fear doesn’t feed the rapid beat. Excitement does. My body’s humming, the need for Ilan’s touch unbearable. “I thought you did.”
The curve of Ilan’s mouth against my skin sends shivers down my spine. “I am the darkness.”
“You are?” Ezra called him death. An angel of death.
“Yes.” Ilan drags his hands over my sides, from my chest to my hips. “You’re not afraid of the dark, are you?”
“No.” The word slips from my mouth on a shaky exhale.
“That’s good.” Ilan lifts me, and I automatically link my ankles at the base of his spine and my hands behind his neck. The hard press of his shaft settles against me. He grabs my backside, pulling me closer and pushing his rigid length between my legs.
My eyelids flutter, the instant punch of desire overwhelming. “It is?”
“Yes, it is.” Ilan’s open mouth brushes over my skin, from my neck to my ear. “Wicked things happen in the dark. Pleasures you’d never find in the light or in another man’s arms. Only mine. And when the rays of the sun touch your skin tomorrow, you’ll reach for me, seeking the darkness, needing me.”
Warmth settles low, building an ache deep inside. I tighten my grip on Ilan’s neck, my fingers digging into his skin. “Are you sure about that?”
“Thousands of years, Sara.” Ilan carries me into my bedroom. The intensity of his gaze draws my focus to his face. “Every one has been in preparation for you, to lure you into the darkness, tempting you to the edge of the abyss. Tonight, you’ll fall, and I promise you… You’ll never find your way out.”
With the way Ilan’s looking at me, I believe him. I won’t ever want to seek out the light. Or leave him.
Fourteen
Ilan
Slow breaths do little to calm me. Each inhale fills my lungs with Sara’s scent and the sweet evidence of her desire. My mouth waters. The craving for her taste grows with each passing moment, an addiction I’ll never have to kick. An eternity to indulge my hungers. That’s what Sara offers me. I was a fool to ignore this bond between us, hoping to save her. Sara’s fate was sealed as mine was the moment my goddess plucked her soul from the billons passing through the heavens.
My salvation and Sara’s damnation.
“I’ll make it sweet.” I step forward, trapping Sara between the hard wall at her back and my chest, and cup her face between my hands. My fingers span the length of her head, jaw to hair. She’s a delicate angel, mine to corrupt. There’s no other way to survive in my world or with my soul bonded to hers. “I’ll unleash your wickedness, but you need to trust me.”
“Trust you how?”
There’s wariness in her voice, but that’s not all. I hear the excitement, the anticipation, the hunger. My true mate needs what only I can give her. That does it for me, pushes my lusts higher and tempts me to throw Sara on the bed and take her, no foreplay, no warnings, no gentleness.
Sara deserves more than that. She deserves my worship, and she’ll get it, if only this first time. After that…after I feel the soft cushion of her body…
An animalistic sound crawls up my throat. I lean closer until her eyes fill my vision. “You must trust me with your body, your pleasure, your heart… I own these things. I own you.”
“And you’re mine, aren’t you?” There’s hope in her voice, as if being mine is a gift.
With my thumb under her chin, I lift her head, bringing her lips to mine. “Forever, Sara. I’m yours forever.”
“Ilan.” She slips her tongue between my parted lips and kisses me, tearing down what little control I have.
Tilting my head, I devour her, swallowing her soft sounds of surrender and leading her to the edge. She’s pushed me to this. Her innocence, mine for the taking.
Sara moves her shaky hands around my chest, grips the hem of my shirt, and tugs the material higher. The press of our bodies holds the fabric in place, all except for the section of my exposed back. My skin burns with her soft caress. Her sweeping exploration reaches from the curve of my spine to the crack of my rear. She slides a finger past the waistband of my jeans and scrapes her nail between my butt cheeks, the teasing too much, too soon.
I snatch her hand and press it to the wall by her face. “You don’t get to touch me. Not this time. Not until you prove yourself.”
“Prove myself how?” Sara’s harsh breaths betray how very innocent she is if she thinks anything she’s done sexually before me matters or prepares her for me.
“Your trust, Sara.” I grasp her other wrist and raise it, holding both her hands, our fingers interlacing, against the wall.
“You have it. I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”
What she says is the truth. I feel the conviction in my soul. I also feel her fear. Over what, I’m not sure. The piece of her soul I stole doesn’t give me an insight into her thoughts, only her emotions, but there is no room for that particular reaction in my arms. Allowing the debilitating sentiment any freedom will damn her once I fill the hole in her soul with a piece of mine. Fear will corrupt her, extinguishing the light she holds, the light I need to thrive.
Unleashing my claws, I curl my fingers, letting her feel the sharp talons along her soft skin before I embed the deadly nails into the paneling. “Prove it.”
“How?” The softly spoken word slips through me, a sign of submission I never knew I needed.
“Let go.” I nibble her chin, along her jaw to her ear, nipping her earlobe and tearing a small squeak from her throat. With a slow sweep of my tongue, I ease the sting. “Your inhibitions, your hang-ups, every disparaging thing I’ve made you feel about yoursel
f. Let everything go and put your trust in me.”
“Okay.”
One word. That’s all. Everything I’ve been waiting for is twined into it.
On a hungry groan, I take Sara’s mouth, devouring her and swallowing every soft sound she makes. Her moans, her whimpers, those feminine mewls of surrender, each one feeds the beast I am at heart. The chains keeping me tethered, forcing me to rein in my primitive instincts, flex the longer I twine my tongue with Sara’s. When they snap…I’ll feast.
I jerk back, breaking the kiss. Sara’s dilated eyes map my face, slipping from my eyes to my mouth. She leans closer, her intent clear. Her lips touch mine. Her tongue traces the contours of my mouth.
Releasing one of her hands, I wrap my fingers around her delicate throat, holding her still, and suck her lower lip into my mouth. Her moan surrounds us even as my fangs slip free, scraping her tender flesh. No pain accompanies the nip. I feel her reaction to my primitive need to bleed her and leave my scent in her body. She experiences pleasure.
Exactly what I want.
With Sara’s tender throat in my grasp, I lean close and lower my voice. “Do you like my mouth on you?”
“Yes.” Sara drags her tongue over the inside of her lip, the spot I nipped. “I like it very much.”
“Do you still trust me?” I let my fangs descend, giving her a close-up view of my primitive side, the one that’s ready to emerge. “I am a predator.”
“Who needs me.” Sara holds my gaze, no fear in her expression or in her soul. There’s a sweet satisfaction simmering in her eyes. “Only me.”
“Our bond goes both ways. Remember that. You need me to fill the hole in your soul. Only me.”
Questions flash in her intent gray eyes I have no intention of answering now. No need to mention my sin in taking a piece of her soul without permission. The deed is done.
I drag my sharpened nails down her throat, not bleeding her but letting my true mate feel them. Still no fear. Strength and desire spread from the piece of her soul in mine. I grip the collar of her shirt, then jerk my hand, ripping the flannel. Buttons ping against the hardwood floor.
Sara’s quickened breaths lift her chest, drawing my focus there. She’s curvier than when I first met her. She has a woman’s body, softness and strength. All mine. My deep groan betrays my excitement, my hunger.
* * *
“Ilan, please.”
Sara doesn’t specify what she wants. She leaves the choice up to me. The trust in her open plea snaps the chains confining my baser side.
A quick look into her face shows me what I need to see: utter abandon. Head resting against the wall, eyes closed and lips parted, she’s gorgeous. She’ll be even more beautiful when she’s coming for me, her cries of release in my ear.
The image spurs me into action. I carry Sara to the bed, setting her on her feet next to the tall mattress. The moment I release her, she snags my shirt, yanking it up. I help her, jerking it off and tossing the shirt behind me, then kick off my boots.
I reach for my jeans. Sara’s small fingers are already there, popping the button and pulling the zipper. I grasp her wrists, pulling her hands behind her and holding both in one of my hands. A sharp tug arches her back.
I lean over her.
With my face inches from hers, I hold Sara’s gaze. “You were made for me, Sara. Your body, your soul, your heart—you’re everything I could ever need. Remember that, little one. Two halves of a whole. I won’t break you.”
“You’re scaring me, Ilan.”
She lies. I feel no fear. Anticipation leaves her primed, ready to explode. It won’t take much either.
“Yeah?” I lean closer, my nose touching hers and our breaths mixing. “Tell me to stop.”
“It won’t do any good.” The skin by her eyes crinkles with a smile I’m too close to see. “There’s no escape for you, Ilan Kane. You’re mine.”
A laugh shakes my chest, surprising me. I hadn’t expected to like Sara. Maybe if I hadn’t tried to push her away for so long, I would’ve realized this aspect to my true mate’s personality.
Too late for regrets.
“Yes, every inch of me.” I spin her body and push her forward, tumbling her onto the bed.
Her legs tremble under my hands, but she doesn’t try to escape me. Not yet, anyway. She’s still too blinded by love, the same intense infatuation that’s left her following my every move for years. Not my problem. I warned her.
Sara rolls onto her back and reaches for me, pulling me on top of her. Her boldness feeds the beast I am at heart. Any hope of prepping my innocent mate, gone. All that’s left is the hunger no female has ever been able to squelch.
With her face between my hands, I capture Sara’s gaze. “You trust me.”
A question or a statement? I’m not sure.
Sara nods. “With my soul.”
She has no idea how close her declaration is to the truth. They’re the words I need, though.
With my arms wrapped around my true mate, I use her, pushing her limits and bringing her pleasure. And once she calls out my name, I give myself over to the instincts I’ve never allowed out. Thousands of years I’ve refined them, turning the baser side of my persona into pure wickedness, pure sin.
Sweat drips from my brow, slickening our bodies. Still I love her. Over and over. All night long.
Finally, I collapse, pulling Sara with me and holding her close as she drifts into sleep. Thousands of years I’ve waited for this moment and this woman. Sara’s my salvation, my…heaven.
There’s no other word to describe it. I’ve found heaven. It’s here, in Sara’s arms. No one will take her from me. No one. Not even death.
Fifteen
Sara
Ilan’s voice draws me from sleep. My eyes open, and my gaze zeroes in on the baby monitor. The newborn’s murmurs greet me as the light flashes on the small box. I fling the blanket off my naked body and turn to Ilan. Wrinkled sheets mark the spot where he’d slept.
The baby’s annoyed cry pierces the room along with Ilan’s shushing sound and his whispered complaint that they were going to wake me.
My cheeks ache from my huge smile. I get out of bed and grab the short robe off the hook on the closet door, then make my way to the darkened living room. The splash of light from the kitchen illuminates part of the room, enough for me to see the dangerous predator who claimed me, body and soul, covered in baby powder and kneeling next to the sofa.
Ilan’s hand stills midair with a diaper clutched in his fingers. He glances over his shoulder. Then grins. “Hey, little mate. Go back to bed. I’ve got this.”
My heart turns over, and my shaky exhale leaves me gripping the doorframe to support my weakened legs. I’ve never seen a more beautiful and sexy man. The dusting of baby powder in the stubble of his beard and over his bare chest adds to his raw masculinity. I want to worship him as he did for me. Every inch of my body aches for his touch and the wicked things he can do with his mouth. A punch of desire hits, warming my body and leaving me eager for our next round of loving. Now’s not the time for indulging in such things. Reality looms over us, along with a heaping number of unanswered questions.
Pushing the lustful thoughts away, I step into the room and turn on the small table light. With the room brightened, the full scene of what I slept through is clear. The dirty diaper, half a pack of used wipes in a pile, an upturned bottle amidst a pile of baby powder, and dozens of clean, folded diapers spilling from the tossed package in the middle of the floor paint the battle scene Ilan waded through so I could sleep.
“Are you sure?” I sweep my gaze across the room before looking into Ilan’s face. “It looks like a bomb went off in here.”
“I never changed a diaper before.” Ilan shrugs, then turns his attention to the newborn on the cushion in front of him. Wriggling arms and legs, along with the baby’s happy sounds over being naked, let me know at least one of them is enjoying the new experience.
“Really?” My teas
ing tone matches the smile I can’t hide. My assassin lover is adorable. Seeing Ilan like this makes me question the stark picture Ezra painted of Ilan and reinforces the image I’ve conjured of him, a gruff hero who’d be decorated if he’d been in the human military. And I really hope my version is correct. “I never would’ve guessed.”
“My mate’s a comedian. Wonderful.” Ilan’s dry tone widens my smile.
“Do you want me to take over?”
“No. I’ve got this.” Ilan captures the baby’s wiggling legs and slides the front side of the diaper under his bottom.
“Okay, then.” With my hand over my mouth to hide my amusement, I wait for Ilan’s diaper failure to play out.
He draws the backside of the diaper between the baby’s legs, then stills with his fingers at the top edge of the diaper. A muttered curse marks the moment I’ve been waiting for. I bite my lip to stop my laugh as Ilan yanks the diaper from under the baby’s bottom. The newborn makes another happy sound and smacks his arms and legs against the cushion.
Chuckling, Ilan leans close to the newborn’s face. “You know, kid, you don’t have to laugh at me too.”
I move behind Ilan and skim my hand over his wide shoulders. “Getting a baby to laugh is a good skill to have once he starts teething.”
Ilan looks up at me, locking his orange-eyed gaze to mine. I’m not sure when he lost those contacts, but I’m glad. This wildness he holds inside defines my lover…my mate. I want to experience this side of him whenever we’re alone. “Must be my face, then. Peyton and Rey always laughed when they saw me too.”
“Oh.” I lean over Ilan’s shoulder and slip the diaper under the baby’s bottom, freeing the flaps so they’ll attach to the front. “I didn’t realize you spent time over at Mya’s place. I never saw you there, and I spent a lot of time babysitting them.”
Ilan grasps my hand, stopping me from attaching the diaper. He rubs his thumb over my wrist. “Yes, I spent a lot of time with Mya’s girls. I just made sure to do so when you weren’t around. Shifter kids need to be around strong males at this age. It calms them, letting them develop more quickly and honing their instincts. Since Mya’s breeding partner didn’t fill that role, I did.”
