Bound in Death (Bound #5)(27)



Her lips had turned desert dry. “For how long?”

She’d demanded the truth, but in that instant, Jane didn’t think she wanted to hear— “Two hundred years.”

No, she definitely hadn’t wanted to hear that truth.





Chapter Five


Jane was in his home. Where he could keep her safe.

He could hear the rush of the shower’s water pounding down on her. After he’d told her that she’d been imprisoned for over two hundred years, he’d expected more questions. Instead, she’d turned and headed up the stairs without a word.

He’d followed her.

He felt like he was always f*ckin’ following her.

She won’t get away again.

He stood before the closed bathroom door. Jane was inside. Naked.

He’d stripped off his own shirt. Now he wore only a pair of loose jeans that hung on his hips.

Did Jane realize just how delicate his control was? Probably not. She didn’t seem to understand just how desperately his beast wanted her.

His wolf had been denied its mate for far too long.

He couldn’t be denied any longer.

The water stopped.

Rustles. Whispers.

Move away. It would be wise to move away from the door. To give her some space, but…

The wolf within him wasn’t letting him move. The man was at the end of his rope. Too hungry for her. Too desperate to reclaim what had been stolen from him.

No, he shouldn’t have lived for two hundred years. But he hadn’t been about to give up.

Sometimes, you didn’t realize what you had until it was gone.

The door creaked open.

Jane stood there, clad only in her towel.

Once you realized just how valuable some things—some people—were, you’d fight even the devil to get them back.

For her, he’d fight anyone. Everyone.

Her gaze lifted to find his. “Alerac…”

He reached for her. Kissed her before she could speak again. He loved her taste. It drove him wild.

Her skin was soft beneath his hands. Still wet from the shower. He wanted to lick that skin. He wanted to lick every single inch of her body.

Mate.

He’d never claimed her as his mate before. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

He lifted her up against him. Held her easily in his arms. She was so small and delicate. When they’d first met, and she’d still been more human than vampire, that delicacy had scared him.

She’d been too breakable.

He’d waited to take her then, so desperate for her to change and become a full vampire—so that he couldn’t hurt her.

A werewolf’s passion wasn’t an easy thing. Rough. Wild. Savage.

After waiting for so long now, that savagery was just beneath his surface.

His claws wanted to come out. He wanted to snarl and howl and take.

But the man held onto control. Barely.

He carried her toward the bed. Put her on the heavy covers. Pulled back to stare down at her.

Did she want him? He inhaled, desperate to see—

“Why do I feel this way?” Her voice was a husky stroke right over his skin. “No matter what happened before, I shouldn’t want you this badly.”

Yes, you should. “There’s nothing wrong with desire.” Not a damn thing.

Her wet hair spread behind her on the bed. The towel was knotted between her breasts.

She stared up at him. Her eyes were so blue. As blue as the skies over Ireland, the home she’d once had. “I don’t know you,” she whispered.

You did. “Then get to know me.” At first, he’d wanted her to get all of her memories back. But now, in truth, there were parts of their past that he never wanted her to remember. Selfish? Yeah, but it would be easier to forget those parts.

The betrayals. The lies.

He reached for her hand. Brought it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles and turned her hand over so that he could score his teeth over her palm.

Her breath hissed out.

“Your body knows me, and I know it.” That towel needs to come off. He had to make this good for her, before the beast took over for him.

Too long.

“I’ve dreamed of you in this bed.” A stark confession from him.

Jane shook her head. “I never have dreams. Only darkness.”

When he’d lost his sight, she’d been the only light in his darkness.

He licked her palm. Then Alerac inhaled the tempting scent of her arousal. She wanted him. She feared him, but she wanted him.

He put her hand back on the bed. Let his fingers trail up the silken skin of her thighs.

“J-just so you know…” she told him, watching him with desire shadowing her eyes. “This isn’t because I owe you for my life.”

His fingers eased up a few more inches, pushing away that towel. “Then what is it about?”

She rasped out a quick breath. “Desire.”

Oh, he was well acquainted with desire.

“It’s not natural, the way I feel about you,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t want you this much.”

Yes, she should. “Maybe your body just remembers what your mind can’t.”

“Don’t…”

The one word had his head jerking up. If she was telling him to stop, to back away, he would.

Cynthia Eden's Books