“Cristo.” He reached to grasp her arms, hauling her up his body to claim her lips with a force just short of pain. “I throw in the towel, cara,” he growled, his accent thick. “I can bear no more.”

She deliberately rolled her hips, her smile smug. “Shouldn’t a king be able…” Her eyes widened with shock as Salvatore reached to jerk down his boxers, and with one smooth motion was lifting his hips to pierce her damp heat. “Oh, God.”

Smoothing his hands up her back, Salvatore sucked the tip of her breast between his lips, relishing her low moan of pleasure. She fit as tight as a glove around him, making him tremble with the effort to wait until she was accustomed to his penetration.

“So good,” he rasped. “Ride me, Harley.”

Planting her hands on his chest, she lifted her hips, drawing him out to the very tip before slowly sinking back down, burying him deep inside her. Salvatore muttered a curse, his hands gripping her hips as he waged war against his looming orgasm.

Dammit. He was famed for his stamina. He could satisfy a woman for hours before claiming his own release. But never before had sex called to both the man and beast inside him.

Sweat gathered on his brow as he concentrated on the mesmerizing beauty of her face. For once her features were unguarded, flushed with passion, and her eyes dilated as she quickened her pace.

His hips lifted to meet her downward strokes, his growl of satisfaction filling the air as her fingernails bit into his chest, drawing blood.

The air was scented with her arousal, her slender body bowing above him as she tipped back her head and lost herself in the pleasure.

“Salvatore,” she cried softly, a frantic edge in her voice as her climax neared.

“Cara,” he whispered. “Let go.”

“I…” She moaned in relief as Salvatore tightened his grip on her hips, pumping deep into her with a relentless tempo. “More.”

“As much as you desire, Harley,” he swore, his hand cupping the back of her head and tugging her down so he could kiss her with savage pleasure.

Their tongues tangled, their bodies moving together with a growing desperation. Then, just when Salvatore feared he was going to explode, he felt Harley stiffen, her cry of completion muffled against his lips.

Salvatore sank his fingers in her satin hair as her climax clutched at his cock, his hips slamming upward as he unleashed his passion in a flurry of unrestrained hunger.

His wolf howled in satisfaction as his orgasm burst through him, the shock waves of pleasure radiating through his entire body.

His.

His woman. His mate.

The other half of himself.

Salvatore jerked awake, muttering a curse as he realized just how deeply he’d slept.

Not entirely unexpected. He’d been forced to burn through his energy at a dangerous pace while he was injured. His body demanded the time necessary to recover. Even if it left him vulnerable.

Instinctively his arms reached across the bed for Harley. It was one thing to risk his own neck, and quite another to risk his mate.

His eyes snapped open as his seeking hands found nothing but rumpled sheets.

“Harley?” he muttered, his sluggish mind belatedly recalling her smell was masked by the amulet. Dio. Leaping from the bed, he tugged on jeans and a white T-shirt as he noted the khaki shorts and shirt he’d stolen for Harley were missing. “Stubborn, ill-mannered brat,” he muttered, slipping on the running shoes and shoving his hands through his tangled hair. “When I get my hands on her, I’ll…” Salvatore stiffened as the scent of cur tainted the air. “Shit.”

Gathering the gun and dagger left on the nightstand, Salvatore cautiously slid from the room, avoiding the late afternoon shadows as he inched around the hotel to study the nearly empty parking lot.

Two men stood near the trash dumpster. One was a tall, gaunt human with thinning black hair and a narrow, impressively ugly face. The other was a young cur with clipped brown hair and the muscular body of a weight lifter.

“A blonde, you said?” the human was saying, a cunning light in his pale eyes.

The cur gave an impatient nod. “Traveling with a dark-haired man.”

Obviously angling for a bribe, the man cleared his throat. “That’s not much to go on.”

The cur bunched his muscles, predictably oblivious to the hints. Curs didn’t do subtle.

“Don’t jerk me around,” he warned. “How many strangers do you get in this hillbilly hellhole?”

Stiffening, the man tossed two garbage bags into the Dumpster and headed for the motel.

“Maybe you should just be moving along.”

With a low growl, the cur had moved to block the man’s path, his hand shooting out to grab his shirt and lift him a few inches off the ground.

“And maybe you should answer my question before I rip out your throat.”

“Jesus Christ, what the hell’s up with your eyes?”

Muttering a curse, Salvatore was crossing the parking lot. What was wrong with the stupid cur?

The first rule in the demon world was to always avoid the attention of mortals. Those who flaunted that particular law would soon find themselves dead. Or worse, hauled before the Oracles. The ruling Commission could devise punishments that would make death seem like a holiday.

Flowing forward with blinding speed, Salvatore clubbed the cur on the back of the head, calmly stepping over his unconscious form as it tumbled to the cement.

“Forgive me for intruding, but you looked like you could use some help,” he drawled.

The human licked his lips, his eyes wide and hands shaking. “Who are you?”

“The man who apparently just saved you from having your throat ripped out.”

With a shudder the man glanced down at the unconscious cur. “There’s something not right with him.”

“Drugs.”

“I never heard of a drug turning a man’s eyes red before.”

“A new designer drug from St. Louis,” Salvatore smoothly lied.

The man frowned, but accepted Salvatore’s ridiculous claim. “You know him?”

“My partner and I have been tracking him since he escaped from the authorities two days ago.”

“You’re a cop?”

“Close enough.”

Proving he wasn’t a full-fledged idiot, the human ran a suspicious gaze over Salvatore’s hard features and lethal golden eyes. Not even casual clothes could hide his feral nature.

“Where’s your badge?”

Salvatore shrugged. “I’m not here to interfere in your business, I’m just looking for my partner. The blonde this man was asking about.”

The man took a wary step backwards. “The blonde?”

“Yes. Have you seen her?”

“I don’t want to get involved…”

Reaching into his pocket, Salvatore pulled out the roll of money he’d stolen the night before.

“I can make it worth your while.” He peeled off a few bills, tossing them at the man’s feet. “Where did she go?”

Careful to keep an eye on Salvatore, the human bent down to snatch the money and shove it into his pocket.

“I saw a blonde running up Main Street.”

“On foot?”

“Yeah.”

“How long ago?”

“Not more than fifteen minutes.”

“She was alone?”

The man straightened, shoving the money in his pocket. “As far as I could tell.”

With a dip of his head, Salvatore headed toward the street. “Grazie.”

“Hey, what about this guy on the ground?”

Salvatore’s pace never slowed. “Not my problem.”

“You can’t just leave him here.”

“Actually, I can, although I will offer you a word of warning.” Reaching the stone wall that marked the edge of the parking lot, Salvatore easily vaulted over it to land on the sidewalk. “You don’t want to be nearby when he wakes up.”

“Hey…”

The human continued to yell meaningless words, but Salvatore was already jogging down the street, forced to keep his pace frustratingly slow to peer in the passing shops.

Cristo. He’d been an idiot to let Harley keep the amulet. It was practically an invitation for the headstrong Were to bolt, knowing he couldn’t track her scent. Of course, on the upside, no one else could track her either, he reminded himself. And considering the number of enemies on his trail, that made the amulet a treasure beyond price.

No, if he had a brain in his head he would have let her keep the amulet and instead tied her to the bed.

Salvatore shuddered. Even after hours of sating his rampant desire, his blood still heated and his body hardened at the mere thought of the aggravating woman.

Not surprising.

He’d enjoyed talented lovers over the years, but what happened between him and Harley hadn’t been just sex.

It had been a stunning explosion of sensations that had bound him irrevocably to his mate. And he didn’t even have the sense to regret the realization that his life was forever altered.

In fact, his only regret was that Harley was obviously not ready to accept their mating.