Dark Predator

12

Zacarias tugged Marguarita to an abrupt halt, by the simple act of ceasing to move. They stood together at the open doors of the stable. The horses were rolling eyes and tossing heads, watching the door in mounting terror.

You smell menacing. I find it quite sexy, but the animals are afraid. Give me a moment to calm them so they can connect with you in the same way I do.

The soft amusement, the caressing “I find it quite sexy” slid into his mind like massaging fingers over his body, but he refused to give in to her. Danger was danger, no matter where or who the threat came from. He locked her to his side.

“I will not allow you into that building with the horses riled up. You saw what happened to your friend Ricco.”

She rubbed her cheek against his arm much like a cat. It would be easier for me to calm them inside, close to them. It would only take a moment.

“I said no.” There was steel in his voice, in his heart.

He would give her the moon if she asked. He’d walk through fire, but this—this—never. She could plead with him, look at him with her incredible eyes and it would only serve to harden his resolve. Her safety was paramount. At the moment, he wanted to throw her over his shoulder and haul her back inside where no harm could come to her.

Amusement teased his senses. He felt his cock stir and his nerve endings come alive. That little whisper of laughter, not heard, but felt, never failed to arouse him.

Were you alive during the caveman days? I could see you dressed in animal fur, hauling your woman into the cave by her hair.

Her teasing would always be erotic to him. When a man had never had such things, they became treasures when he found them. Laughter had never been a part of his world, certainly not teasing. She didn’t fight his commands. She didn’t pout or get angry. She laughed softly and rubbed along his body with hers, just as if she felt those snapping electrical sparks in the same way he did.

“Do not tempt me, my beautiful lunatic. Dragging you to your bed by your hair is not out of the question.” His voice came out gruff, husky even, not at all menacing like he intended.

Her soft laughter teased his groin into semifullness. The sweet ache permeated his body, his temperature going up a few degrees. He was Carpathian and always in control, but what she did to his body was so exquisite, he allowed the sensations to pour through him, savoring every ache, every degree of mounting desire.

I want you to stay in my mind very quietly. Feel the way I pour myself into the horses. I do it very slowly, a soft warmth, like this . . .

His entire body shuddered as she came inside of him. Not just his mind, but invaded his soul. Her presence was far more intimate than she intended, but already, that same hunger and need was clawing at her, just as it raked at him. Her presence was light, almost delicate, but with him, very sexual.

“I would prefer that only I feel this connection with you—in fact I demand it.”

A dark swirling shadow rose to the surface. His teeth lengthened and something deadly rose with the shadow. He made no attempt to hide it from her. She had to know what she had tied herself to. Life was full of unexpected moments, and this was a surprise to both of them, but no less lethal.

Everything in him stilled. For the first time that he could remember, he felt the predator rising. He felt the deadly menace spreading and growing and the ice building to cover his emotions, to obliterate all feeling, making him a much more efficient killer.

Of course I don’t feel that way about anyone—or anything else. The only sexual feelings I’ve ever had have been toward you. I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but the feelings are very strong and hard to control around you. When I’m inside you, I can’t help but want to be with you in any way. I’m sorry if that upsets you. I promise to try to do better.

She struggled to give him the correct impressions in her mind and heart. She was very sincere, and very concerned for him. Again, there was no fear, no pulling away. She didn’t flinch or look at him with contempt or anger.

Her palm moved up his chest. She looked him straight in the eye. Whatever you need, Zacarias, I will provide. If that means we wait to do this, until you understand you are my one and only, then that is what we’ ll do. Just tell me.

He could feel her intense need to show him the truth, even though it embarrassed her a little. The sheer courage in her, the way she kept her word, giving herself to him fully and without reservation in every situation no matter the cost to her, astounded him.

Zacarias knew how much she loved the horses. He could feel the joy in her when she spoke of them or thought of them, yet she was willing to turn around and walk back to the house with him if that was what he needed. She humbled him with her gift. With her serenity. With her efforts to put him first. She simply stood in front of him, quietly waiting his decision.

Zacarias drew her into his arms and buried his face in the thick mass of her hair—the hair she’d left wild and messy just for him. How small a thing was it for him to allow her to calm the animals, especially if he was the one making them edgy and perhaps even dangerous?

“You shame me, Marguarita.”

No! She shook her head violently and stepped back to look him in the eyes again. Don’t do that. Don’t ever do that. You are my choice, just the way you are. I am not asking for changes. I will do whatever you wish.

She wasn’t asking anything of him for herself that he could see. In truth, she had asked for the life of a friend. He had saved the man because she’d asked him to, but her motives weren’t selfish.

He gestured toward the stable. “Continue. And do not worry about the way you feel. It pleases me that when we are together you are aroused by me.”

She smiled at him. I am aroused by the mere thought of you, Zacarias. I don’t have to be in your presence. That’s how pathetic and obsessed I’ve become.

He frowned at her. “Not pathetic. I am pleased.”

Marguarita studied his face as if seeking something—reassurance perhaps. He was certain she didn’t want him going berserk and destroying her horses in a jealous rage.

Again that sweet amusement slid into his mind. It never occurred to me that you would do such a thing.

There it was. Her naivete, her innocence didn’t allow her the imagination to see the true depths of the monster she had tied herself to for all time. He refused to lie to her. To look away from her. “I am quite capable of such an action given the right provocation.”

She frowned. What would that be?

He squared his shoulders. She had courage and she deserved truth. “Jealousy. A threat to me—to you. To us.”

There. It was out between them. The truth of what he was. Let her try to pretend she wasn’t appalled, sickened even, wishing she could shun him as the rest of the world did—and should. He watched her expressive and transparent face closely. At the same time, he held himself still inside of her, wanting to know every thought in her head.

Marguarita sighed and brought his hand to her mouth, kissing his scarred knuckles. You have a very skewed vision of who you are and what you’re capable of, Zacarias. It’s a good thing I can see inside of you. I think you are deliberately trying to frighten me. Do I see that you are capable of great violence? Of course. I have access to your memories—all of them—even the ones you refuse to revisit. Are you capable of murder? Killing for killing’s sake? No. Solidly no. Firmly no. All the arguing in the world won’t change what I know to be true.

He heard himself groan. He leaned his forehead tight against hers. “I have no idea what I am going to do with you, Marguarita.”

Again her soft amusement filled his mind, bringing that heat that kept growing and moving through him, chasing out shadows and replacing them with light.

Fortunately for you, I have all kinds of ideas. Let me take you into the stables, Zacarias. I want to share this with you. It’s the one thing I have to give you—a gift. My gift to you.

She made him feel as if he could do anything. Was this love? Was this what he had been searching for all over the world, through centuries, never knowing such a thing really existed? He felt he could endure the warmth of the sun as long as he had her. She had brought colors to real, vivid life. Maybe there was nothing she couldn’t do, no miracle she couldn’t work. Maybe the horses would accept him into the stable as long as he had her by his side.

“If it means so much to you, sívamet, then we will try.”

Her face lit up and he felt everything in him settle again. She took his hand, threading her fingers through his. Let yourself drift with me. Stay inside me. You’ll feel what you need to do eventually.

Once again he felt her pouring into him, all that heat and fire, all that fascinating light spreading through him like a million candles. The fire turned molten, spreading slow and thick through his mind and body, until he felt that connection deep. Spirit. He often left his own body and became nothing but spirit in order to heal a fellow warrior. He had done that very thing to save Marguarita when the vampire had torn out her throat those months earlier. He should have suspected, yet it came as a surprise.

Marguarita was entirely human, yet she possessed strong psychic ability. Her connection with animals—and her first connections with him—had been spirit to spirit. She shed her ego, what and who she was, and became a being of welcoming light. Even for a Carpathian, shedding what he was, shedding his physical body, was a difficult task, yet she did it so smoothly and easily, he hadn’t realized what, within him, she was bonding with.

His spirit. He was very aware of it as he never had been. He felt her bathe him in scorching heat, dispelling the deeper shadows that had taken hold. They fled before her as if she would destroy them with her brightness. He felt light. Different. Saved. But he knew his salvation would last only as long as she was connected to him.

He closed his eyes, understanding now what his father had endured through the centuries, trying to find a balance of keeping his lifemate close to him, yet safe from danger. In the end, he had killed her, putting her life in jeopardy by taking her with him on a hunt for a master. He’d known better. Zacarias had pleaded with his father, fought with him. He had offered to go, but leave his mother behind. He had blamed his father for her death. He had been responsible. She should have been kept safe. That was their law; their duty to their lifemates. His father had taken her and had been outmaneuvered. His mother had paid the price and, ultimately, his father had, too.

And you, Zacarias.

“Do you understand now?” he whispered, wanting to save her.

Not all the way, but I’m getting there.

“I will face the shadows and the cold before I will ever allow danger to you.” It was a promise. A threat. A declaration that dared her to try to defy his orders.

She didn’t give him sympathy, not exactly, more it was a stronger connection, as if she poured more of herself into him. He felt her warmth invade his heart and he caught her shoulders and gave her a little shake.

“She loved him too much. She should never have gone with him.”

There is no such thing as loving someone too much, Zacarias. Whatever happened, I know it wasn’t because they loved each other too much. I have told you I will obey you, but I cannot stop my heart from loving you. You can’t ask that of me.

He let out his breath, unaware he’d been holding air trapped in his lungs. He caught her face in his hands and took possession of her mouth. There was nothing to say. He was already lost. If this was love, he was too far gone to take a different path. He would put her above himself and his own needs. She would never be placed in jeopardy just so that he could shut out the cold, see in color and feel emotion. He could handle being utterly alone if it meant she was out of harm’s way. He vowed to himself he would always be strong enough to put her safety first.

He kissed her long and hard, making a thorough job of it. He had nothing to say to her, no way to reassure her. He hadn’t expected their connection. He hadn’t expected the emotion to be so intense, and he certainly hadn’t intended to feel something close to love for her and he feared that was exactly what was happening. When he lifted his head, his gaze burned over her. Her eyes were wide and a little glazed, but she had kissed him back without reservation.

“I will do this with you, but if I say we leave, do not question me.”

She nodded her head and took a step through the open door. The horses watched curiously, stamping occasionally, but she’d touched them, spirit to spirit several times and they knew her, were used to that strong connection. They trusted her. Because they felt Zacarias’s spirit mixing with hers, the horses were more curious than alarmed.

We breed the best, the horses with even temperaments as well as brio, that elusive quality that shows arrogance and exuberance in every move. Look at them. The way they move, the steps they take, the tossing of their heads. They have steady eyes and beautiful gaits. They are loyal and hard workers. They will place their body between an enraged steer and a fallen rider. They have great courage, Zacarias.

She drew Zacarias farther into the stables. He had never been so close to a horse, not without it rearing and plunging, throwing its rider and running full speed away from him.

People misjudge them because they are not a really large horse. They stand fourteen to a little over fifteen hands in height, which isn’t terribly tall, but never underestimate them. They have such noble heads.

He was beginning to feel what she meant about the spirit or brio of the Peruvian Paso. Marguarita approached a stall where a beautiful chestnut-colored mare watched them carefully. She didn’t take her eyes from Zacarias, those amazing large, intelligence-filled eyes.

She has a long official name but I just call her Sparkle. Isn’t she gorgeous?

Zacarias couldn’t look away from the mare. He was within touching distance and the horse wasn’t screaming a protest and kicking her stall door, eyes rolling in terror. He found his hand was trembling. He had never understood why he had been so drawn to this species, the horse. He often had watched them running free over the land, manes flying in the wind, their muscles flowing, necks stretched out, and hooves thundering over the earth and it was one of the few things that brought a semblance of peace to him.

He looked down at Marguarita. All those centuries ago, had she been there, a whisper in his soul keeping him from falling into that dark abyss? He didn’t understand how it could be so, but that rapt look of joy on her face when she observed the horses, echoed in his own heart. Horses. Simple creatures, yet complex at the same time. Each had their own personality. Most had a wild spirit he understood and now, with his spirit connecting with the horses in the stable, he realized they weren’t so far from him after all.

“Thank you, sívamet. You have given me another gift beyond measure.”

We are nowhere near finished. There’s so much more. Come with me.

He didn’t want to ruin this perfect moment. He stood just behind Marguarita, his arm wrapped around her waist from behind, his spirit floating with hers through the stable and mingling with the spirit of the horses. The ride was exhilarating, and yes, because he was so tightly woven into Marguarita’s spirit, even sensual. His every sense was alert and alive. He smelled what the horses smelled. Felt what they felt. The wild freedom of just being, and the affection pouring from them for Marguarita—and now for him. He was tightly entwined with her, the two becoming one and the horses accepted his presence.

“You have done more for me than I ever thought possible,” he whispered into her ear, nuzzling her, his teeth tugging on her sensitive earlobe. “You are my miracle.”

Her soft amusement brushed like a caress. I am your lunatic, remember, so I say there is much more. And I want so much more for you. Let me give you this, Zacarias. Trust me. I put myself into your hands, put yourself into mine.

His arm tightened around her. She was already so much to him he couldn’t imagine what would happen if she gave him more. Being alive was extraordinary. Feeling joy was immeasurable. His world had been a dull gray. The colors of the horses gleamed bright, almost like glittering diamonds. The scent of the hay and stamp of hooves were etched into his soul for all time. He would always have this moment Marguarita had given him. If things went wrong, nothing could mar this perfection.

He brushed his mouth across her ear, breathed warmth against that perfect little shell. “Then continue. I’ll follow where you lead.”

He took the time to once again scan the ranch for vampires, that sign of shadows, or even blank spots where the undead tried to cover their tracks, but if Ruslan was close by, or if he’d sent his lesser pawns ahead of him, they weren’t anywhere near the ranch.

Marguarita opened the door to the stall and stepped right in, close to the mare. Zacarias found he was holding his breath again. She looked quite small beside the horse. She was right, the animal wasn’t particularly tall, but she exuded power and held herself nobly. She nuzzled Marguarita with her nose and, if Zacarias hadn’t stepped in, right behind her, the gentle touch might have pushed her back a step. His arms went around her waist from behind to steady her with his taller, stronger frame.

Her hands came up to caress that inquisitive nose. He noticed how, with every stroke of her fingers, she did the same in her mind, brushing her spirit against the horse’s spirit just as lovingly.

Marguarita reached down, took his hand in hers, and brought it to the mare’s arched neck. His body went still as he felt her press his palm against that warm, smooth neck. For the first time ever in his endless existence, he was actually touching a horse. He had steadfastly refused to control the animals down through the centuries. If they refused to give him allegiance, then he would rather not get near them.

His hand trembled. His belly knotted. A thousand butterflies took wing. He had been all over the world, sailed the seas, raced through meadows and fields of flowers and had resided in enormous, beautiful caves, yet he had never done such a simple thing as touch a horse. The enormity of what Marguarita was giving to him shook him. What had he done for her? He’d scared her nearly to death and he’d put her life in jeopardy by tying them together.

Stop, silly. Marguarita rubbed the back of her head against his chest while she slowly stroked his hand over the horse’s neck. You said yourself that I don’t obey very well. Do you think I would do something so life-changing if I wasn’t fully committed? That it wasn’t what I wanted? Stay with me, right here. Be in this moment with me and let everything else go.

He nuzzled her neck and then bit down gently. “Did you just call me silly? I do not think I have ever, in all my existence, been referred to in such a disrespectful manner.”

Really? She sent him a smoldering look over her shoulder, one eyebrow arched and mischief sparkling in her eyes. Perhaps others don’t know you in quite the same way I do.

He bit her again, this time with a little sting so he could bathe her pulse with his tongue.

Do you want to go for a ride?

His heart leaped. “On a horse? Do you think one will tolerate me?”

Do you feel fear from any of them now? They know you the way I know you, spirit to spirit, and they accept you as they do me.

He was more worried about Marguarita now, not about ruining the moment—Marguarita on the back of a horse, flying over fences at night. A small hole in the ground could cause a misstep and break the horse’s leg, sending her tumbling to the ground. A thousand possibilities crowded into his mind. She had become as essential to him as the rich earth he rejuvenated himself in.

She leaned her head back against his chest, snuggling into him. I need to ride.

His first thought was that he didn’t care. Need was a word she didn’t truly understand; he knew what it meant and it wasn’t the dream of riding a horse. Need was elemental. Need was the ability to feel emotion and to feel alive. It was Marguarita forever in his mind, lighting up every shadow, connecting those broken paths so he could feel life running through his body, feel it with every breath he took. He’d forever been damned to a kind of living hell. She’d dragged him out and, by all that was holy, he wouldn’t—couldn’t—go back there. That was need. True need.

Zacarias felt her grow still. She didn’t pull away—or protest. He heard her heart accelerate. She had put herself into his keeping, under the rule of a dictator. He knew better than she just how much of a dictator he would be. She made no move to influence him; she simply waited for his decision. A part of him wanted to see her reaction if he denied her. Would she sulk? Argue? Be angry with him and try to retaliate.

Look into my mind, Zacarias, she offered. I do not go back on my word. I knew this wouldn’t be easy for either of us. I asked a great sacrifice of you. Would I expect less of myself?

Sun scorch the woman, she was definitely bringing him to his knees. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, threatening to crush her fragile, feminine, human bones. “You are impossible. And you make no sense. If you wish to ride, then you will ride. But Marguarita, if your life is threatened in any way, I will kill whatever threatens you. You will not hold that against me. Do we have an understanding?”

Her lashes fluttered. She knew what he meant; he could see it in her eyes. She turned to face him, her fingers brushing over his face with the lightest of caresses, but he felt that touch all the way to his very bones, as if she branded him with her name, with her spirit. She nodded slowly. There will be no need, Zacarias.

He shrugged. If one of her beloved horses threatened her, there would be no question as to what he would do. Just as if one of her beloved workers threatened her. Man or beast, he would destroy every enemy. It was what he was good at. This—finding a balance with a woman was an altogether different proposition.

But enjoyable, she pointed out.

“Enjoyable,” he echoed. “More than I can express.” Although another woman might have made it a mindfield for a man such as Zacarias, a throwback to medieval days.

Further, my man, much further. Try caveman, she teased as she opened the stall beside the mare. This is Thunder. He moves as if he has wings. There is no better horse on the ranch to ride.

He could feel the pride in her. She was offering him one of her greatest pleasures. Her eyes shone again like the sparkling champagne. If he’d never wanted to ride a horse, he would have done it, just for that look. He pushed his worries for her safety to the back of his mind. He was powerful and he could watch carefully, a small price to give them both this special moment.

You use your connection with Thunder to guide him into doing what you wish. There’s no need of a saddle or bridle. I just ride bareback and think where I want to go and they take me. If I’m just riding for the beauty of riding, I let them go to their favorite places on the ranch. They like sharing the control.

Zacarias didn’t like sharing control with anyone or anything. He nodded his head and laid his hand on Thunder’s neck. Instantly he felt the horse’s spirit brush against his. He knew he could do nothing to hide his nature from the animal. He was born to lead, and if the horse didn’t accept the dominance in him, there would be disappointment for Marguarita.

Her soft amusement slid into his mind. There you go again. You disregard your own feelings. The disappointment will be yours. You want to do this. Thunder knows and he’ll do as you wish. I want this for you, because you want it, not for myself. It’s all right if you’d rather just watch me ride.

“Not a chance. I will be at your side every moment you are outside and exposed to danger.” He couldn’t help the hard edge in his voice—the one that should have told her there was no give to that side of him.

Marguarita smiled at him, caught the horse’s neck and leaped on in one smooth, practiced movement. He could see how her male jeans were an asset. The moment the thought entered his head, so did the memory of her body encased in nothing but black lace. A thick erection was not going to be an asset on the back of a horse and he willed the erotic picture of her out of his mind.

It was easy enough to slip onto Thunder’s back—after all, he was Carpathian and could levitate—but it wasn’t quite as easy ridding himself of the picture of Marguarita’s body, bare but for those small wisps of lace, her cloud of blue-black hair tumbling like a waterfall down to her waist. He raised his head and looked at her. Her eyes met his, full of mischief, sexy, dark desire flickering in their depths.

She was temptation. And she was fun. Her soft amusement stroked him like fingers, and the flow of her spirit into his was suggestive, sensual, erotic, her mind circling his thickening cock like a fist and stroking. Her eyes transformed to dark, melting chocolate, filled with lust—for him.

Her horse turned abruptly and exited the stables. Horse and rider flowed over the ground, not at a particularly fast pace, but a ground-eating four-beat gait that was breathtaking. He urged Thunder to follow, and the horse immediately responded, taking them from the stable. Zacarias felt almost as if he were floating through the air. He felt every muscle of the powerful animal beneath him, felt the joy in the horse as it trotted over the ground, gathered itself and sailed over the fence right behind the mare.

As connected as he was, spirit to spirit with Thunder, he felt the way the earth seemed to rise up to meet the dancing hooves, he felt the wildness as the wind blew the mane across the horse’s face as he trotted. They flew across the field and then the next one, riding the edge of the rain forest where the tangle of fern, trees and wildflowers winding up trunks added to the beauty of the moment.

He urged Thunder to Sparkle’s side so that the horses moved in perfect unison. Marguarita sent him a smile and his cock stirred again. The moon spilled down a silver glow over her, pushing moonbeams into her hair. Her skin was gorgeous, and her spirit was alive in his, all that hot flowing magma, slowing working its way through his mind and deeper, into his soul. She filled those empty, jagged holes with her brightness.

He looked for her smile. He watched carefully for the desire rising in her eyes. He waited for the moonlight to shine through the silken strands of her hair. Moments of beauty. Of pure delight. He’d never known such things and now, in her, everything he needed was there, in this strange human woman. He was beginning to realize life with another was lived in moments. Heartbeats of time, and this was one of them. A perfect moment. It would last centuries, stored in his mind to be pulled out again and again as if it were brand-new.

She reached out to him and he linked his hand with hers. They walked the horses along the fence line and he found he was at complete peace. The sound of the hooves hitting rock and ground added to the rhythmic beauty of the horses’ easy gait. The wind blew gently and the stars vied for space in the sky.

“You keep giving me incomparable gifts, Marguarita. What have I given you?”

She was silent a moment, her dark eyes moving over his face. You. Your life. You stayed with me against everything in you telling you it was time to go. You stayed when I asked. You know better than I the future we face together. You were weary of fighting, and yet, when I asked, you stayed. Thank you.

“I meant every word of the ritual binding vows. I will cherish you and place you above all others. I am a dominant being, I cannot change what is fundamental in me, Marguarita, no matter how much either of us would wish it, but I will see to your happiness.”

I see into your heart, Zacarias. I know you will.

“The things I demand of you will not always be easy,” he warned.

I was aware of that the moment I realized you were not vampire and I had condemned you once again to this world. I took the time to see who you are. I know you are not a modern man and it worries you that I will one day rebel against the chains you put on me. Her fingers tightened around his and they locked gazes. If it is what you need—truly need—my obedience to your will in that moment, it will be the most important thing in the world to me. No matter how hard. I meant what I said when I asked you to stay. I serve you out of choice. I want your happiness.

He knew the truth of her words. She was prepared for his dominance, but she also realized things he did not. She had taken into account his feelings for her. He didn’t recognize those emotions ninety percent of the time, or acknowledge them, yet she knew they were there and that the feelings were growing each moment in her company.

He tried one more time to let her know what it would be like with him. “I will rarely leave your mind, Marguarita. You will never be alone, never have a thought I do not know. Every breath in your body, I will feel. I will know where you are, who you talk with. There will be nowhere that you can go that I will not be with you.”

She smiled at him and let go of his hand to lean forward and pat the neck of her horse. I am growing used to feeling your eyes on me and it’s becoming lonely when I am without you in my mind. I had not realized how truly alone one can be until I felt you inside me.

Zacarias took control of both horses, turning them back toward the stables. He wanted to be inside more than her mind. He wanted to see her body without the denim hugging her skin so lovingly. He needed the feel of her hands on him, the hot velvet of her mouth fitting tightly over him. He looked at her, knowing she could see the hunger in his smoldering gaze.

Her answer was that small, mysterious, all too sensual smile that teased his cock into hardness. He urged Thunder forward, needing Marguarita. She’d given him this night, a gift, and he wanted more. Maybe he would always want more.

Marguarita contemplated Zacarias’s thoughts as she quickly rubbed down the horses and led them into their stalls with a small mixture of hay and feed for thanks before turning to face her man. Excitement had been building in her from the moment she’d slipped the lacy underwear on right in front of him. It had been a daring thing to do and made her damp just thinking about it.

The erotic images in Zacarias’s head made that dampness grow into distinct wetness. He couldn’t fail to scent her welcoming call to him, but she took her time, letting the sexual tension stretch out right there in the stable while she washed her hands and dried them carefully before she turned to him.

How can I please you? She loved the sound of inquiry, that soft submissive questioning. She didn’t need a voice or words to indicate she wanted her hands and mouth on him, that she wanted his every desire met—by her.

“I want you to touch me. Explore my body as I explored yours.”

His voice was mesmerizing, the command in his tone so masculine. She didn’t understand why she felt the need to ease his burdens the way she did, but there was a drive in her to meet his every need. This man had battled alone for centuries. Entirely, utterly alone. He was wounded in places no one could see and in all his lonely life, he had only let one person close enough to see inside of him—her.

Her heart stuttered with pleasure, knowing he found solace in her body, that he found peace. She would do anything to bring him that and she would find her own enjoyment in every act, every compliance.

Just like that his clothes were gone and she was gasping at the size and shape of his heavy erection. He was so thick and long, much more so than she believed possible in a man. She found it impossible not to touch him. Her hands had a life of their own and really, after all, he’d given his permission.

Amusement slid into her mind. “More than permission, my beautiful lunatic, a command. Please me.”

She couldn’t have refused that teasing note, or the edge of hunger she felt pushing against her mind. Her fingers slid up his thigh, all the while she watched his face and kept her mind firmly planted in his. She wanted to feel his every reaction. She needed to observe him as well. The breath leaving his lungs in a rush was an aphrodisiac. She touched the fiery head, a thick round knob with a single pearl leaking. She used the tip of her finger to spread that lubrication over the head until it was glistening. His eyes burned with heat.

I trust that no one will come near. Even as she expressed her fear, she obeyed the pressure of his hands on her shoulders, sliding down to her knees.

She could feel his pleasure at the mere sight of her kneeling in front of him, hair spilling wildly down her back, her eyes bright, her lips slightly parted. “You are beautiful, Marguarita. I wish to see those wisps of lace covering your body. I thought about them on our ride together and how your body would look covered in those little scraps of lace.”

She had known and she’d helped to feed those fantasies with a few of her own. She half smiled, her attention on the heavy erection so close to her face. She wrapped her hand around the thickness and tilted her head toward him. How is it possible that you fit inside me? How could she possibly take all that into her mouth as she saw in his mind?

Her tank vanished as if it had never been and the cool night air teased her nipples through the black lace into twin peaks. She found herself kneeling on something soft and the air teased her bare butt as her jeans and boots went whichever way her tank had. She’d never felt sexier. He was so beautiful to her, his masculine body all hard, defined muscle.

“I just do. I was created for you.”

His hand slipped to the back of her head. She felt the breath trapped in his lungs as he urged her forward. She didn’t resist, but her hand leisurely explored the size and shape of him, enjoying the texture and heat. She leaned forward and took an experimental swipe with her tongue. He tasted of her favorite tea. He must have tasted it when he’d kissed her in the kitchen and he’d remembered.

Pleased and shocked that he’d taken the trouble to add to her pleasure, she was as honest as possible. I’ve never done this, Zacarias. I don’t want you to be disappointed. She was trembling as she licked around that broad silken head. The moment she felt him shudder, the pleasure that burst through him, it steadied her.

His fist bunched in her hair, and her mind firmly in his, she could see what he needed. The stroking lap of her tongue from base to head to get him wet. She fast was developing a taste for him and the exotic mixture of rich tea and Zacarias. Her mouth slipped over the wide head of him, her tongue swirling, the fit tight and hot.

Without warning he suddenly jerked her away from him by her hair. It hurt, her scalp tender, but it was more upsetting that he rejected her ministrations. His face was an expressionless mask, his eyes glittering almost red.

Ice poured in, glaciers of it, impenetrable barriers locking her out. She was rejected both physically and mentally. He had virtually thrown her away from him without telling her what she’d done wrong. Shocked and humiliated, she sank back on her heels, struggling not to cry.