Wicked Burn (Realm Enforcers #3)(32)



He leaned down, his face an inch from hers, raw determination glinting in his eyes. “It is my place. If you’d like, I’ll be happy to cement that place right here and right now.”

Nervousness exploded through her. Awareness of her vulnerability arrived second. “What in the hell are you talking about?”

“Lie back, or hell, turn over onto your hands and knees, and I’ll mark you like no woman has ever been marked before. The second you become mine, I can protect you from any species out there, including your own.”

The sensual threat ticked along her every nerve, centering in an entirely private place. One Nick apparently believed belonged to him. She shook her head. “I’m not that kind of woman.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “What kind of woman?”

She plucked at a loose string on the bedspread. “The kind who gets lost in a man. The kind who obeys without question. Hell, Nick. The kind who lets a man shield her.” Even if she had been that woman eons ago, he’d changed her by leaving.

He watched her, no expression lightening his face. “Baby, I’m not the kind of man who would give you a choice.”

Her chin dropped, and she was fairly certain her eyes bugged out. Even so, a tension, one she barely recognized as intrigue, lit her from within. “Excuse me?”

“If it comes down to life or death, health or injury, I don’t give one shit about what type of woman you are beyond the obvious.”

Oh, hell no. “What exactly is ‘the obvious’?” she asked, anger tingling through her hands.

His shoulders settled. Truth, primal and raw, darkened his eyes to the black of a sky without the moon. Mysterious and powerful. “The obvious? You’re mine and have been since the first time I laid you down in that meadow years ago.”

She reared back, her heart fluttering. In warning or temptation, she had no clue. “The caveman mentality doesn’t work for me, and it sure as hell won’t work for you.”

He smiled, even while his lids half-lowered. “Caveman? Oh, hell no, baby. This is modern man, modern demon . . . all aboveboard and truthful. I’m not using subterfuge, and I’m not going vampire-ape on you. I’m calmly, very pointedly, telling you how it’s going to be. If there’s a threat to you, I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to safety.”

“If it causes war?”

“It won’t.”

“If it does?”

He lifted a broad shoulder. “So be it.”

She shook her head, panic edged with something warm flowing through her. “You can’t go to war over me.”

“Watch me.” He somehow edged even closer, nearly leaning over her. “You’re exactly the type of woman to go to war over. How can you not know that?”

“I’m well aware of that fact. Of course, I can wage war on my own if I so choose.” There was a time when she had enjoyed the badass side of Nick, but she could fight her own battles. “If I require assistance, I will certainly let you know.”

“Do you plan to let them kill you?” Curiosity glimmered along with darkening hunger.

“No.” Simone Brightston had little time or patience for martyrs. “But I’d like to trust the system I’ve worked within for so long. If it fails me, I’ll plan my next move.”

He reached out and ran a finger across her upper chest, tracing the path between her breasts. “I’m choosing to back off while we deal with the trial and with finding your enemy. At that point, I’m coming full-force. Prepare.”

She didn’t like time lines, and she didn’t like warnings. Yet she wanted the damn demon with every molecule in her body. Maybe just one more night to get rid of the hunger that wouldn’t stop igniting in her. Why deny herself? Slapping mental shields into place, she reared up, wrapped her fingers over his shoulders, and yanked him down on top of her.





Chapter 12


God, Nick loved Simone’s sense of self. No pretense, no false modesty, and no coyness. She wanted him, so she grabbed him.

He landed on her, his cock instantly pressed against the vee of her legs. Right where it belonged. “You directing things, little bunny?”

She smiled, all powerful siren. “Don’t I usually?”

“No.” But that didn’t mean he’d deny her.

“Hmmm.” She kicked the bedclothes down farther to allow for full-body contact. Her hands splayed across his upper torso. “You have one of the most ripped chests I’ve ever seen.” A soft hum escaped her as she caressed him.

“War requires physical as well as mental preparations.” His voice turned demon hoarse, and his lungs burned.

She leaned up and licked along his bottom lip. “Take your sweats off.”

He smiled then, grasped her waist, and rolled them over so she lay on top. “You take them off.”

Her smile held danger of the most feminine nature. The kind that made a guy either run for the hills or meet the challenge, because she was worth every damn second. He already knew that fact.

She kissed him right behind the ear, and a rapid shiver shot through his body. Humming, she kissed her way down his torso, planting her knees between his thighs before drawing down his pants. His dick sprang free into the cool air.

He dug his fingers into the sheets, trying to restrain himself, when all he wanted to do was toss her onto her back.

Rebecca Zanetti's Books