Night's Honor (Elder Races #7)(86)

She didn’t protest his possessive hold. Instead she smiled. “I’m good with that.”

Leaving the tub, she went to the closet and pulled out a handful of towels. She hovered near his elbow as he climbed out, but he steadied himself against the nearby sink and waved her away.

Toweling dry, he left his hair damp, and when she came to him, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leaning on her for support again as they went into the bedroom. She pulled back the covers, and gratefully, he sank down onto the mattress. She joined him, and, putting his arms around her, he pulled her damp body next to his.

Their legs entwined, and the sensation of her naked body against his was as sacred as anything he had ever experienced.

Running his fingers along the wings of her collarbones, he said, “You haven’t told me how you are doing.”

“I’m fine. I’m tired.” She shook her head, the silky damp tips of her hair clinging to her skin. “I’m not fine—I’m not fine at all. Jesus Christ, Xavier, I went an entire hellish hour waiting for you to disappear and turn into dust. I held your head between my hands, and all I could think of was how you might vanish into thin air at any moment. I think I’m still screaming inside my head.”

As her face twisted, he pulled her onto him and held her tight. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “It’s okay now. It’s going to be okay.”

“I know that,” she snapped, as the tears spilled down her face. “I don’t have to be rational, or in control right now.”

“Of course you don’t.” He stroked her hair, her shoulders, the beautiful hourglass curve of her back.

She mashed her mouth against his, but her emotional distress was too apparent for him to smile at the lack of finesse. Instead, he made a low, soothing sound at the back of his throat and cradled her.

“I didn’t know you two months ago. When I first met you at the Vampyre’s Ball, all I could think of was how easy it would be for you to rape me and drain me of my blood.”

He pressed his lips against the delicate, vital pulse at her neck. “Not easy,” he murmured. “Impossible.”

“The first time I walked into your study, I was terrified.” Her tear-starred eyes were filled with incredulity. “Now I can’t imagine what I would do without you somehow in my life.”

Possessiveness stirred. Gripping her by the hips, he pressed his erection against her. “I am not somehow in your life,” he growled. “I am very much more than somehow in your life. You are in my bed. You have found your way into my heart, and I am in yours. Admit it.”

Her gaze widened, and inexplicably, she calmed down. She muttered, “I guess you never know when the medieval Spanish nobleman might surface.”

“He is always here,” Xavier told her. “And he has fallen in love with you.” He whispered, barely audible against her skin. “He’s waiting for you to join him.”

Her response was immediate, and passionate. “I am. I have. I’m here too.”

That was all he needed to hear. He pulled her down and took her mouth. Urgency drove him. He needed to go deep inside of her, and he speared her with his tongue. A raw moan broke out of her. It sounded so needy and shaken the instinct to cover her vulnerability from the world took precedence over everything else.

He rolled with her until he had her pinned underneath him, and she readily parted her legs to cradle him with her strong, sleek thighs.

Then something else occurred to him. He lifted his head and said with surprise, “I bit you.”

She blinked, awareness showing through the arousal that flushed her face. One corner of her mouth lifted in a remarkably shy smile. “Yeah, you did.”

Stroking her torso from breast to hip, he checked her neck. Aided by the properties in his bite, the small wounds had already healed. He asked, “How do you feel about it?”

She hesitated, thinking, as she turned her head to press her lips against his bicep. “It can be like a drug, can’t it?”

“Yes,” he said, turning guarded. “It can be. Some grow addicted to it.”

Her gaze focused on him. “I would never let anyone else do such a thing to me,” she said. Her voice had turned crisp and decisive. “I would never let them take blood from me like that, or let myself feel that kind of—dangerously meaningless euphoria. I would never give them that kind of power over me.”

His jaw tightened. He couldn’t fault her in the slightest for saying any of it. “I see,” he said. “I’m only sorry you had to do it the way you did, and I’m grateful you were willing to do it to save my life.”

A frown appeared between her slender eyebrows as she studied him. A corner of her mouth lifted. She told him, “You did hear what I said, didn’t you? I wouldn’t let anyone else bite me. But you . . . Xavier, I loved it with you. I do trust you, and I loved giving you something so important.”

The invisible band that had begun to tighten around his chest eased, and warmth, heat and light flooded him. He caressed the tender skin at her temple with his lips. He whispered, “Thank you for giving it to me.”

Her expression gentled. “Even at your worst, you were reluctant to do it, and you stopped almost immediately.” Hesitating for a moment, she murmured, “Can you do it again—now that we’re safe?”