Diego’s knuckles caressed her cheek. “I can never love another.” Sincerity laced his voice. “Only you. To be this near you and not claim you as my own will weaken my powers. Under other circumstances, I would expect to let you get used to this idea.” He paused. “But there simply is no time. We must act.”
As if this stranger could really love her, a woman he had only just met. “Claim me as your own?” She laughed, though it was without humor. He’d meant his words. Truth always echoed in her mind, as did lies. It was one of her talents. One that often came with pain. Sometimes one didn’t want to know when someone was feigning niceties.
She squeezed her eyes shut again, trying to block out what must be a dream. “This can’t be real.” Desire took hold, hot, like fire in her veins, barely contained. It was with an iron will she fought the need to press her body against his. She could feel her nipples, hard and achy against her bra, begging for his hands…his mouth.
Diego’s hand settled at her waist. “Look at me, Marcella.”
She took a deep breath and did as he requested. No, demanded. He seemed to claim power over her. Their eye contact made her stomach flutter. Her fingers clenched his shirt. “I belong to no one.”
The warmth of his hands moved from her wrists to her upper arms. It took her off guard, and she found herself unable to respond. And then his lips, those sexy, perfect lips, brushed hers.
His mouth lingered a breath away, just out of reach. “We belong to each other,” he whispered. “I know you can feel it.”
His mouth caressed hers again, and this time she couldn’t fight the urgency of her own need. Her fingers slid into his hair as she pressed her lips to his. Not willing to accept brief contact. Their mouths seemed to melt into one another, absorbing. For long seconds they stayed that way, bodies somehow pressing closer, arms wrapping each other’s bodies.
His forehead met hers again, a gesture seeming more intimate each time he did it. “Tell me you feel it.”
Her palm went to his cheek. “You already know I do.”
One second…two. Suddenly, his mouth slanted over hers, his tongue sliding against hers in a hot, demanding possession. Responding was as instant as her next breath. She tasted him like sweet nectar, drinking greedily of his unique flavor. Everything she knew as her world slipped into the darkness of her passion.
It didn’t matter that her blouse and bra were somehow on the floor. What mattered was his hand, now on her breast. His fingers tweaked her nipple, answering her body’s cry for his touch. His mouth trailed her neck, her chin, and then found her lips again.
Impatient, she kissed him while tugging at his shirt, wanting to feel his skin. No. It was a need. She needed to be pressed against him, to be as close as possible. He leaned back and pulled the shirt over his head. Dark hair sprinkled his chest, his warm brown skin like an aphrodisiac.
She reached for him, wanting to kiss him again. His hands went to her arms, his breath heavy enough to be heard. As if he was straining to contain his desire. “I am near a point of no return, Marcella. Once we do this, we are bound for life. I need to know you want what I am offering you. My protection. My love. And,” he said in a deeper voice, “my life.”
Deep somewhere inside she knew this was all crazy. It didn’t seem real. It was a dream. And she wanted what he offered. Maybe it was nothing more than the heat of the moment, but that second, she would not have denied him anything.
“I want this,” she whispered, feeling a comfort in the words that went beyond saying them. “Make love to me.” Their eyes locked, and she saw his pupils grow, taking up almost all of the white in his eyes. Inside her mind, and perhaps her very soul, she felt a different side of him surface. More…animalistic. More primal. Yet she wasn’t afraid.
Calling him to her was like a cry from her innermost self. “Now, Diego,” she said. “Take me now.”
* * * * *
Desire. Raw, red-hot, burning desire. It stroked his cock without even a touch. Her silky quality of her words and the anticipation they evoked made him harder than he’d ever been in his life.
“Be certain,” he whispered in a hoarse voice. “There is no turning back.” Everything inside him raged with the need to take her. Waiting for her answer felt like years as she reached deep for restraint. Though he didn’t have time for her to understand fully what was happening, he most definitely wanted her to make the choice…to trust him. To give herself to her mate.
Her delicate little hands slid under his arms and up his back, her nipples pressing into his chest in an unspoken invitation reinforced by her words. Chin tilted upward, lips parted, she gave him a sultry look. “Make love to me, Diego.”
No hesitation, his mouth captured hers in a passionate kiss. It was as if the beast inside had been waiting, ready to claim its feast. Never before in his life had he needed like he needed in that moment. Suddenly, they were clinging to one another, hands exploring, tongues tangling, bodies pressed close. But he wanted more. Hands beneath the round perfection of her ass, he moved her so that she was flat in the center of the mattress.
Urgency drove his hands as he shoved her skirt up and pushed her knees apart. He settled his groin into the center of her body’s V, still kissing her, his tongue lapping at hers as if he was drinking her very life. Instead, he was finding his own.
Her body arched into his, driving him wild as she squirmed beneath him, hands traveling his body with tantalizing caresses. He moaned, the scrape of her nails down his flesh drawing not a sound of pain but a sound of pleasure. The roar of his darker side wanted to be fed, and Marcella’s wild abandonment only made him thirst for more.
He palmed her breast, kneading it, squeezing, pinching the nipple. She made a soft purr. Her breathing was heavy, her chest rising and falling. His lips traveled to her neck, teeth scraping the sensitive skin even as his other hand fingered and pinched a pink, perfect nipple.
“Oh God, Diego. What are you doing to me?” She gasped the words, her hands on his head, her nipple erect under the sweet play of his touch. His mouth found the red bud and suckled. Her hips arched into his, and he pressed into her in response, a sudden urgency to be inside her claiming him. But not like this. Not with their clothes on.
While he still had the will, he pulled himself off her, standing at the end of the bed and reaching for the button of his jeans. She leaned up, weight on her elbows, breasts full with arousal as she displayed them for his viewing.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice heavy with passion.
“Get undressed,” he said. “I want to see and feel all of you. Every inch.” He bent down and started untying his shoes. She reached for one shoe and tossed it to the floor with a loud thud. He had managed to get rid of one of his by the time she tossed the other. And then she was there, standing above him, skirt falling to the floor, a pool of material at her feet. She stepped out of the garment and kicked it aside. In a slow perusal, his eyes traveled from her perfectly painted pink toenails up the creamy white perfection of her calves, to the thighs he so wanted wrapped around his body. And then her panties fell to the floor.
His eyes followed the small piece of emerald silk, dark green, like the color of her eyes, fell to her feet. But his gaze lingered only a brief instant. Hungrily he focused on the triangle of red curls between her legs. He moved forward, hands sliding up the back of her thighs, cupping her cheeks as his mouth found her mound. She cried out, her hands lacing into his hair. He suckled her bud and then licked and tasted, loving the intimacy of knowing her…his woman.
His fingers slid along the slick folds of her body, caressing, exploring and then slipping inside her. He stroked her inner wall, moving his fingers in simulated sex, making her hips arch, pressing her bud into his mouth. She made a soft sound of pleasure and it drove him crazy, making him lap at her with more hunger.
“Diego,” she cried out, “I can’t…stand. I—”
He felt her tremble an instant before her knees buckled. Moving both hands
around her ass, he firmed his grip, holding her up so she wouldn’t fall. All the while his tongue swirled and licked her into satisfied bliss, slowing as she slowed.
The instant she calmed, he urged her onto the bed, but he didn’t kiss her as he yearned to do. First things first. He needed to get rid of the remainder of his clothes. Because it was way past time he was inside her.
* * * * *
Marcella had never given sex much thought. Until now. She was shaking. Literally trembling. She could feel her bottom lip quiver. Not from fear from pleasure. From a shared intimacy with a stranger so intense it seemed to turn her insides out. There were things in life that called to her beyond the physical. To feel what she felt now, she knew they existed beyond this experience.
And though her need for Diego had manifested in the form of desire, he too was linked to her beyond this moment. Beyond touch.
He stood at the end of the bed, his cock long and hard, and his eyes wild with a raging inferno. For her. Marcella’s eyes lingered on the proof of his arousal. Had he been closer she would have touched him. Wrapped her hand around the width and felt him pulse in her hand.
For now, she settled for looking. And what a sight he was. Tall, broad and packed with lean, sexy muscles in all the right places. He had pecs that begged to be touched and abs that demanded her lips. She’d just had an amazing orgasm and she was all hot and wanting all over again. She wanted him inside her. It pulled at her like a living, growing expectancy.
As if answering her call, he was there, on top of her. His hands pressed her legs apart, fingers sliding into her wetness, preparing her. Then his mouth was there, on hers, tongue probing. He guided his cock to her body, moving it along her aroused core and moaning into her mouth.
And then he sunk deep.
She cried out. He cried out. Together they felt the impact of their joining. His face was buried in her neck, and she felt him shudder though he didn’t move. What she experienced in that moment she didn’t understand. It was like a shiver rushed through her body. And then she shuddered as he had, ripples of pleasure dancing along her nerve endings with all-consuming pleasure.
He raised his head, one hand sliding into her hair, and looked into her eyes. His mouth lingering so close she could almost taste him. And then as if an animal was unleashed, he was kissing her. Crazy, hot, kissing her and she couldn’t get enough. They pressed into each other, moving together, raw with an urgency to get closer.
He rose up on his hands, an amazing, powerful sight, thrusting into her. She wanted to watch him, to take in the sheer force of his beauty. But each stroke, each thrust, hit her with a rush of pleasure. The intensity forced her eyes shut.
Arching upward, she met him with a push. “More,” she said or maybe she just thought it. She didn’t know. She just wanted. “More. Harder.”
A low growl escaped his throat, and he flattened his hard body against her softer one, kissing her even as he pushed deeper. She wrapped her legs around his, pulling her hips into his, kissing him in between moans, touching his face, his back, his shoulders.
And with perfect timing, like an answer to a burning question, he squeezed her breast and pinched her nipple. She arched into him. His hands moved down her sides, around her ass, pulling her tighter against his body. The angle allowed her to take more of him.
“Yes,” she moaned breathlessly and tried to press her chest tighter against his. They were so close, bodies touching everywhere, yet it wasn’t enough. If she could have crawled under his skin at that moment, she would have. There was desperation to her movements and to his as they twisted and turned together.
In. Out. Sideways. Oh so marvelously, but never, ever, enough. She could never get enough.
He whispered something in Spanish, but she couldn’t make out his words. She was too…there. Too on the edge. No. Over the edge. She felt the first spasm of orgasm like she was shattering. Shocked when she lingered on the tip of fulfillment.
Diego called her name, thrusting with fierceness, once again raised up on his hands. But her legs still clung to his, holding him firmly, not letting him escape. She was so damn close to the ultimate pleasure. To the moment. Diego moaned, arching his back and thrusting hard, deep, harder.
And the moment of no return had come. Her hands clenched the sheets, her face moving from side to side. “Oh God,” she moaned, feeling like she was about to explode.
An animal-like groan escaped Diego’s lips, and he buried himself inside her with completeness like no other stroke. He shuddered as she shattered, her body shaking with the impact. The pleasure so abrupt and bold, she could hardly breathe.
When finally they both stilled, Diego slowly lowered himself, rolling to his side and taking her with him. Holding her, hand stroking her hair with gentleness so unlike the wildness in his lovemaking.
She loved how he felt. How being in his arms made her all warm inside. But even as she lavished in the moment, her head began to spin. A wave of sickness rolled through her body. “Oh. I…” She swallowed, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’m dizzy.”
His palm went to her cheek. “Look at me, my love, mi vida.”
His voice reached inside her and seemed to calm. She forced her eyes open. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“It will pass in a few minutes. I promise.”
“How do you know?” she whispered, the room spinning.
He kissed her forehead. “It is part of your body binding to mine. It is quite normal.”
Inhaling, Marcella willed herself to calm. “What have you done to me?”
* * * * *
He knew this moment would come. But he also knew she would always have a choice. Never would he take that from her. Running his hand down her hair, he tried to comfort. With a slight shift he rolled around to face her.
“I will never want another woman. We are bound body and soul. You, on the other hand, are still human. That hasn’t been taken from you. Though you will want me, even need me, you still have the ability to live on without me.”
Her eyes were wide now, no longer looking so dazed. “But you can’t live without me?”
“I can, yes, but I will never want another.” He paused. “And I will forever need you. If you are by my side, I will be stronger in all ways possible.”
She blinked several times. “And if I’m not?”
He ignored her question, not wanting to contemplate a separation. And with effort, he made himself ask rather than tell what came next. “My people need me as does the good of humanity so I must return to our base. I hope you will go with me.” He paused. “For me. For the better of our planet. We need your help.” He ran his finger over her lip. “I need you.”
“You didn’t answer my question. What happens if I’m not with you?”
It would destroy him, but he wasn’t about to admit such a thing. She needed to make this decision herself. To be with him of her own free will. When he didn’t respond immediately, she sat up, the sheet falling to her waist, giving him a tantalizing view of her ivory-skinned torso. Pulling her legs to her chest, she pressed her chin to her knees, hair falling forward like a veil of silk.
He was still trying to decide how to answer when his eyes caught and held on the vision on the back of Marcella’s neck. His mark. The Arion star. It denoted the mate of an Arion male. His breath caught in his throat. Knowing she was fully his was like a rush. His mark was now a part of her existence from here on out. Love, lust and an array of feelings he couldn’t quite decipher swirled inside. And possessiveness. She was his.
She cut him a sideways look. “Well?”
He sat up, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his lips to the star. She sucked in a breath, and he knew she felt his emotion. It was potent inside him, reaching for her as a new day did the sun. Because he was a new man because of her.
“What are you doing to me?” she whispered.
“It’s already done.” He kissed her neck again. “You wear my mark.”
She twisted around to see him, grabbing for the sheet and pulling it over her chest. “What?” Then her eyes darted beyond him. “Oh no. Damn it.” She crawled over him, reaching for the phone.
Perched half on top of him, her breasts were pressed against his chest. His hand found her hip and his cock stirred. “What are you doing?”
“My aunt is going to be worried sick. I told her I would be back in an hour. It’s been two.”
His hand slid up to her breast and he fingered her nipple. “Tell her you won’t be back tonight.”
She moaned at the play of his fingers. “Stop.” Receiver in her hand, Marcella looked at him. His brow quirked. He didn’t like his woman telling him not to touch her. As if she read his mind, which she well might have, she answered, “I can’t concentrate when you touch me like that.” A two-second pause. “And I can’t tell her that. She’ll freak.”