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  “Because of the kiss,” she said softly. He took an unsteady breath, his tongue rubbing over his lips in remembrance. Her taste no longer lingered, that he’d made sure of with half a tube of toothpaste and a bottle of mouthwash. But none of that could wipe away the memory of how her lips felt pressed softly against his. Like warm satin.

  Her eyes softened, the golden specs around her pupils sparkling up at him. “I liked kissing you, Henry.”

  Whoosh. All the air in his gut left him, and his dick hardened in his shorts.

  “Yeah, well it isn’t going to happen again. In fact this will be the last time we speak of it, ever.” Shit, there was no hiding the thick arousal that filled his voice. He could only hope she wouldn’t pick up on it.

  “Why not? I think we both enjoyed it. You did enjoy it, didn’t you?” She looked so

  unsure. How could this woman ever doubt her ability to knock the socks off a man? She was stunning, and when she kissed, it was like a dream. Maybe she was just playing him up, trying to be coy. But no, that wasn’t her way. She was an upfront woman. She wanted to know why he couldn’t be with her? Shit he had (at least) two good reasons.

  “It doesn’t matter if I enjoyed it, Nanu, because it isn’t happening again.”

  She stepped up into him, pressing her body lightly against him, cautious of his stomach injury. Her hands perched like hummingbirds on his pecks.

  “Why can’t it happen again? I think about you, Henry. I dream about you.” Her voice was a bare whisper, a gentle tickle over his ear. Her warmth permeated his body, making him want to pull her closer, wrap himself around her. Bitterness crept in. He stepped back, welcoming the chill over his sweaty skin.

  “It doesn’t matter why.”

  “Of course it does,” she said with a shake of her head. Her dark hair whipped side to side.

  Her hair shined in the light. He’d always wondered how it would feel if he touched it. Slightly coarse, satin soft, or something altogether different. “Henry, please just tell me why we can’t be together.”

  Henry stilled and looked away from her. She was so adamant. Frustration laced her voice.

  It hurt to know that he was denying her. Fine, he’d tell her. He’d tell her then never speak of it again and avoid her at all costs. Even if that meant disobeying his commander, because after she knew the truth, he wouldn’t be able to hide his bitterness or anger.

  Henry locked gazes with her and marched up to her, cupping her face in his hands. She stretched towards him as if she’d been waiting for this moment. Her eyes fluttered like they wanted to close, her lips moved toward his. If he wasn’t as tall as he was, she might have come close to reaching them too.

  “Open your eyes. Look at me when I tell you this, Nanu.” She did, the crinkles at the corner of her eyes pulling tight with concern. “I won’t be with you because I can’t do what I do and come back to someone like you. I take lives for a living, you save them. It doesn’t mix. It won’t work. Blood is on my hands every single day, no matter how much I wash. It’s always there. The faces of those I take are always with me. I kill fathers, brothers, sons, people with families. I am a killer, Nanu, not a man for you.”

  She breathed unsteadily; her eyes glinted on the verge of tears. He cursed and this time pushed her out of the doorway and moved around her. He hit the first step when she spoke.

  “Wait, wait. That’s it?” Stiffening, he turned slowly to her. He looked at her as if this would be the last time he did so.

  “No. You, Nanu. You’re the other reason.”

  She called out after him to wait, to explain what he meant, but he ignored her pleas and didn’t turn back around.

  Chapter Nine

  Chloe tossed the covers off her fire-drenched body. Sweat beaded her forehead and neck, soaking the pillow beneath her head. What was wrong with her?

  She turned and rolled around on the bed no longer finding any comfort in the soft

  cushion. Where had her damn angel feathers gone?

  Her arms latched onto her stomach and she moaned deeply. Sharp, gut-wrenching stabs beat inside her like knives trying to break out of her skin. Her breaths wheezed in and out and suddenly the pain was gone as if it’d actually broken out of her body.

  Panting, Chloe arched her back off the bed as a blinding energy pulsed inside her. Pants turned into a long, drawn-out moan as liquid heat pooled between her legs, as her breasts pulled tight and heavy.

  She was drugged or had food poisoning. Something was wrong. She moaned as her

  stomach jerked and another wave of wet release pulsed through her core. What kind of food poisoning did this? No, no, impossible. It wasn’t time yet. She had another day.

  Shakily she came to her feet, wobbling so hard she grabbed onto the corner of the

  bedpost to keep from falling. The wood was hard beneath her hands, solid and thick. She pushed her chest into it, reveling in the hard strength of it, then she rubbed her lips across the wood.

  “Oh my God!” Jerking away from the all-too-sexy post, she wobbled over to the dresser to pull her clothes back on. Oh, God! Each step swished her sex’s lips back and forth, bringing forth a surging need deep within her. She only got as far as pulling on a baggy t-shirt, before she flung open the door. Help, she needed help. Of course Draven wasn’t there. He was probably still training, a whole day later.

  Anger infused with her arousal and she had to steady herself against the doorframe. Is this the new moon? Impossible, Henry said it wasn’t for another day. She hadn’t figured out what she was going to do about it yet. She was supposed to do that today. Maybe she shouldn’t have procrastinated.

  With one hand braced against the wall, she walked slowly down the hall. It took her forever to reach the top of the stairs and by then her breaths came quick again and her core was all too ready for this whole growing into sexual maturity thing.

  She looked wildly down the stairs. Where the hell was everyone? Not a creature was

  stirring, not even a cold vampire commander that she really wanted to thaw out right now.

  She started down the stairs; it took much longer than it should have. One step at a time, she walked like an old lady with a cane down the stairs. When she finally reached the bottom step, she was trembling on the verge of an orgasm. She sucked in air and thought of things to cool herself off. Baseball came to mind, but then she pictured all those baseball players’ tight butts and fit bodies and quickly canceled that train of thought.

  With nothing to lose, she darted barefoot across the floor and flung open the study door.

  Four sets of eyes trained on her, then peered over the single baggy shirt she wore. There was no time for embarrassment. She started towards them but couldn’t make it. The trip down the hallway, the stairs, and the short sprint here was all too much. Obviously she was a superhero, because how she managed that with the rampant heat threatening to erupt inside her at any second was simply amazing.

  She locked her knees to keep from falling to the ground. She had a feeling she knew what her body would do once she hit the ground. Spread her legs wide and offer herself to any—and all—the warriors watching her. The only thought that kept her (barely) from doing just that was the fact she wasn’t wearing panties.

  “Please,” she said, her voice a wretched moan. Tyrian looked over her with little interest.

  “Are you ill?” Cold words had never sounded so sexy. She shivered and another gush of heat dampened her core.

  She couldn’t stifle the moan that came out. “No,” she said unevenly. The energy it took to get here taxed her, so she fell into a chair. Spreading her legs open and closed, open and closed as she wrung her clammy hands in her t-shirt. “You lied, Henry.” She meant it to sound angry but she just sounded husky, sexy.

  He blinked in surprise, and everyone’s gaze turned to him. He threw up his hands and backed away. “Hey, I bumped into her last night and she asked me when the next new moon was. It’s tomorrow. That’s all I said.” Chloe wanted
to tell him she was sorry, that it wasn’t his fault. Okay, it really was. But whatever. She couldn’t make herself talk. It was as if she was dying from the inside out but not in waves of pain, in waves of hot arousal.

  Her gaze fell to Tyrian who looked completely unaffected. He stood tall with his

  shoulders back, his dark hair pulled back in a severe tail at the back of his neck showing off that widow’s peak on his forehead.

  “How did you bump into her?” Tyrian asked coolly. It might have been just her horny imagination, but she really hoped that was masculine curiosity if not jealousy that made him ask.

  Henry glared at her and she knew what his problem was. He was debating on protecting her because he found her snooping in Tyrian’s office last night. Like she cared about something like that right now!

  She seemed to have extra saliva in her mouth so she swallowed then said, “It’s okay. Tell him.” Her breath caught suddenly and her back arched off the chair, pushing her heavy breasts towards the men. Anyone, take me! Or so her body was saying. Squeeze my breasts, please! She clamped her mouth shut and settled her own hands on her breasts. She always was a do-it-yourself kind of woman.

  A soft sigh. Sweet, blissful relief.

  “Stop that.” Her eyes popped open, met Tyrian’s cold gaze with her own hot one. She could melt him. She just knew it. If not, then it’d be one interesting adventure to try.

  “I’ll stop if you come touch me.” She wouldn’t have thought it possible but his spine stiffened even straighter. His brow furrowed the slightest bit and then he turned completely away from her.

  “Has she talked to any of you about being her partner during her new moon?”

  All of them shook their head. “I offered to be there for her,” the one named Draven said.

  He came towards her and each long step was like a finger circling her clit. “Would you like to use me, Chloe?” he asked gently, eyes concerned. He looked not like that grinning man she’d talked to the day before but like a man who’d do this out of duty. She’d pegged him for a kiss and tell type guy but maybe she was wrong. Or he was a good liar.

  “No. I want him,” she said and pointed to Tyrian. Someone cleared his throat and another rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. Chloe glared. Or tried her best to. She had a feeling the look was coming off more as a low-lidded bedroom gaze.

  As she reveled in the weight of her breasts in her hands, she watched as Tyrian said something too softly for her to hear. Then the men started pouring out of the study.

  “Wait.”

  But they didn’t. Her icy commander left with Henry and some other man she recognized from the hostel in London, but Draven stayed behind. He didn’t look too happy either. A frown marred his mouth as he looked from her to the door. As if resigning himself to something, he strolled towards her and dropped to both knees before her.

  “I would be honored to care for you, Chloe.”

  She shook her head hard. His scent invaded her nose. Sweat, salt, man. Good, her body answered to the smell. Chloe pushed her need back down so she could think, could breathe, could talk. Her mind was spinning so she slowed it down just enough for her to form a coherent thought. This warrior smelled good. There was no doubt about it. His hair was the color of golden wheat, his body prime for pleasing, but none of that interested her. She wanted the scent of ice, the man with words that made her shiver from the inside out.

  “I don’t want you.” He looked as if he’d be insulted for a moment, but then a grin broke out across his face.

  “You like the Commander, don’t you?” She nodded at the same time she pinched her

  hard nipples between two fingers. Ecstasy, pure ecstasy rolled through her, taking her higher and higher with that one little touch. How would her body respond when, if, he touched her?

  She heard him sigh and then footsteps retreated. The door opened and closed. Where did he go? Was he getting the commander for her? A spark of pride filled her. If she had sex with Tyrian en Kulev, leader of the Atal Warriors, she would have bragging rights forever. Who could top that? No one.

  What was taking so long? The urge to delve her fingers between her legs and touch

  herself was growing harder and harder to ignore. Her leg muscles tensed and before she knew it, she was sliding listlessly to the floor, sprawling out on the thread-barren rug under her. Rolling her chest into the rug, she grumbled in pleasure as her breasts rubbed against the abrasive material. Her skin was burning up with heat and each touch both fueled the fire and eased it at the same time.

  The sound of a door closing had her rolling on to her back. Footsteps, heavy, booted steps and then they came into sight. She craned her neck up.

  “Hola,” she said to the vampire commander.

  The fact that he didn’t laugh shouldn’t surprise her. He looked at her, his face almost drawn into anger, but not quite. Then his gaze left her face to trail over her neck, where she knew he found the rapid pulse there. Even more slowly his eyes moved down to her chest where her breasts arched towards him with hardened peaks. Like a feather dropping in the wind, his gaze moved down her stomach to her bare legs and feet, lingering, before moving to the center of her legs.

  “Draven told me you refused him and would only take me.” Nodding furiously, she

  grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt and flung it off her body. Sweet merciful pleasure. Bare skin, free and open. She heard a strange noise and peeled open her eyes to see the vampire commander standing no longer with his arms clenched behind his back, but at his sides in loose fists.

  Tugging her lip between her teeth, she arched her hips towards him. “Please.”

  “Choose someone else now. A name, any name, and I will get him to service you well.”

  It was probably only her lust-induced mind but she swore his words no longer sounded cold but husky and hot. She met his ice blue eyes head on—a challenge.

  “You, Tyrian. I want you.”

  Silence. Then, “Why?” was his harsh response.

  Her eyes glittered with feminine appreciation across his lips, his scar, his strong body.

  “You have much that I find desirable.”

  “Ridiculous talk fueled by your silly hormones.” That one line was the most passionate she’d ever heard him, and it melted her. Gulp. There you can do it, Chloe. Convince him or else he’ll leave and you’ll never get him again, she knew her gut wasn’t wrong on this. She had this moment to convince him or she’d lose him forever. She didn’t flinch from his hard, cold gaze.

  She met him head on and lifted her chin that stubborn inch.

  “I know who you are and what you are. My attraction to you isn’t ridiculous or stupid.

  You’re gorgeous, sexy. Not in a Hollywood actor kind of way but in a tough-as-nails, man-of-the-world way. Your appeal goes so much further than that, too. Sorry I know that sounds cheesy but give me a break. I’m in a lot of,” she wheezed out a breath like she was doing Lamaze,

  “sexual pain here. You would protect me from anything. I can feel that from you, maybe that’s even why Papa sent me here because he knew that about you, too.”

  He opened his mouth to say something but she held up a hand then quickly settled it onto her stomach rubbing up and down, closer and closer to her core. He didn’t watch her, which was good, because it made her feel like she had some privacy.

  “There are some men who make a woman wonder how good he is in bed. Some men are

  so sexy they make a woman wild. And then there are men who are so wrapped up in their work they can’t see what’s good for them. You are all of the above, Tyrian. How you don’t have a woman clinging to you amazes me.” Later she might wish she hadn’t said something so soul-bearingly honest. But at that moment she couldn’t think straight enough to lie. So she’d gone with the raw truth.

  Something flashed in his eyes and he looked away from her, out the window. She would give anything to know what he was thinking in that moment. Her breath hitched and she held it tigh
t as one arm moved, his hand lifted and touched the outline of his ragged scar across his cheek. His finger traced the curves of it perfectly as if the pattern had long since been memorized. His hand slowly dropped back down to his side, the fingers of his hand curling into a fist.

  Chloe pictured those long fingers wrapped around her breast, gripping her hip as he slid inside her and she gasped as hot cream wetted her sex, softened her, readied her.

  “Please,” she said, her throat ragged. He faced her like he was about to issue order to his men, feet forward, chin high, shoulders back.

  “This once I will do this, but never again. After this time, you will seek another partner. I will not be here to feed your new sexual appetite for the rest of your life. I will do this as quickly as possible, not to entertain your growth into womanhood.” It hurt to hear him say it, even though she understood it. Did she want him to lay some sort of claim on her that he’d never let another man have her? In her burning state, absolutely. Was it silly? Completely. “Do you accept my rules?” Rules, always with the rules.

  “Yes! Just now, please, I feel like I’m dying.” A garbled sound left her throat then turned into a high moan.

  “Turn around.” Her mind tried to process the words, tried to make her limbs move but all that happened was her hips arched off the floor. She shook her head futilely—I can’t do it—but then hands were on her, grabbing her and turning her onto her stomach.

  She moved her cheek to the side so she could see him, but then he was behind her. Yes, now, please! The first touch of his hands was a sharp jolt of ice on her burning flesh. One hand curled around her hip and then the other. Two lances of ice pierced through her and it felt amazing, helped to cool the heat burning in her veins.

  His hands weren’t gentle but precise, efficient. It might have bothered her any other time, but right now only one thing mattered. Penetration.

  He lifted her onto her knees, pulled her back towards him. Then her knees were spread open one by one. Amazingly, a blush formed over her cheeks. This was her first time and she wanted it so badly she wouldn’t dare offer any protest. Besides, she loved what he was doing. It was new and intriguing. Something she’d heard of and seen done but had never tried herself. He positioned her to take him into her body, lifting her into just the right position.