“Who are you with?” he asked.

“You. Thane.”

“That’s right.”

She traced her fingers over the arch of his wings. He tilted the tips toward her and stroked her calves. Tantalizing her. Making her ache. Need overwhelmed her. Goose bumps broke out over her skin.

He cupped her breasts, kneaded. Her nipples beaded as he swiped them with the pads of his thumbs.

“Thane.” The lazy seduction was almost more than she could bear. “Take off the robe. I have to have skin against skin.”

Her urgency must have been contagious; he responded quickly, jerking at the collar of the robe. The material gaped from his body and whooshed to the floor, leaving him completely bare.

Oh, bless me. He was utterly magnificent. The ripples and cords of muscle were bronzed to perfection. The majestic width of his shoulders made her feel sheltered, protected. And his shaft wasn’t just pierced in one place, she realized with amazement, but twelve places. Silver bars formed a glorious line from head to base.

“You’re not going to fit,” she rasped, and almost grinned. Almost.

“I’ll fit,” he said, determined.

* * *

THANE BASKED IN the admiration and awe shining in Elin’s eyes, and in the reverential thoughts he could hear. Magnificent. Perfection. Majestic. Glorious.

Only a few heated whispers separated them as he met her perusal with his own. Her beauty never failed to astound him, but it wasn’t what fed his desire. It was her. All that she was. His need no longer revolved around what, but who. He needed her touch. Her taste. Her breathy moans. Her heat. Her wet. Her...everything.

“My poor kulta,” he cooed, tracing a fingertip down the center of her chest and the massive black-and-blue bruise already in the process of fading; she was healing faster than a human should be able to. He’d never thought to rejoice in her Phoenix heritage, but that was exactly what he did. “Had the boulder done any more damage, I would have beat it into dust.”

Her laugh was husky with desire, a caress that enthralled. “Sweet talker.”

No. Truth talker. He’d liked watching her play. He’d liked her bravery in the face of opponents far stronger than herself. He’d especially liked her unwillingness to back down. But the enjoyment he’d taken from her reactions could not compare to his determination to protect and defend her.

“You have me naked,” he said. “Now what?”

“Now, you give me what you’ve been promising.”

“That’s right.” He lowered his head and pressed a light kiss between her breasts, then at the top of the bruise. The contact drew a husky moan from her. He licked his way to her nipple, nudging her bra to the side with his chin.

Pretty, perfect rosebuds greeted him.

He sucked. She whimpered.

“My new favorite toys,” he murmured.

“Yes. Yours,” she agreed, reaching between their bodies to fist his shaft. “But this—this is all mine.”

He bit down, gently, so gently, though he was already fighting for control. With their bond, he could feel thrums of her emotion. She was as desperate for him as he was for her, and the knowledge affected him as surely as her touch.

Not going to last, he thought.

You must. This was going to last.

And last.

And when it was over, she would know she belonged to him. Belonged with him.

Nothing else was acceptable.

* * *

ELIN SLICKED HER THUMB over the tip of Thane’s erection, grazing the moist head, before turning her attention to the barbells underneath. Groaning, Thane thrust into her clasp. He anchored his hard hands on her waist, his grip intractable, and sucked on her nipple with so much force she cried out.

“Softer?” he whispered.

“No. Please, no.”

With a yank, he ripped apart her bra’s center clasp, freeing her beasts completely. His mouth trailed moist kisses to her other nipple, and when he reached it, he flicked out his tongue, back and forth, back and forth, lancing arrows of pleasure through Elin’s entire body. Smooth lips, caressing; white-hot tongue, searing.

Her arousal moved to the edge of a cliff and jumped, and suddenly, everything was amplified. The sensations. The heat. The emotions. And it scared her. The more he gave, the more she wanted to take. Her hips arched toward him of their own accord, seeking contact, pressure, something. Anything.

“Thane.” His name was a gasp of need.

“Is this what you hunger for, kulta?” He removed her hand from his shaft and pinned her arm above her head. Then he ground his erection between her legs, her panties a hated barrier.

“Yes. Get inside me,” she commanded.

“Not yet. You hunger, but you aren’t starved.” He pinned her other arm, keeping both wrists manacled by a single hand, forcing her back to arch and her breasts to lift for him. An incarnation of bondage, and yet, she loved it. Loved how vulnerable the position left her—for him, and only him. Loved that every part of her was made available to his mouth and his hands and his body.

“I’m starved. I promise. I’m starved.” Was that desperate tone really hers?

He traced a burning path down her stomach. “There are a thousand different things I want to do to you,” he said, and kicked her legs apart. “This is only the beginning.”

“But I’m already dying for the ending.”

“Let me help you enjoy the journey.” He thrust a finger deep inside her, and she whimpered. “So wet already,” he praised. “Do you know how happy it makes me to have this honey all to myself?” At her ear, he whispered, “I remember how good it tastes. I’ll never forget.”

Even his words aroused her, making her insides throb and melt. “Couch,” she managed, remembering the way he’d once hoped to take her.

“No. You’re too tight for me to take bent over like that.”

Dizzy with need, she said, “Let me do the other thing, then. Free my hands. I’ll drop to my knees and—”

His moan cut her off. “One day. Soon.” He nipped at her lips. “Today, I’m going to penetrate you slow, and I’m going to penetrate you deep. I can’t do that if you suck me off.”

She could feel the tension banked inside him, the unequaled power, and reveled in it, understanding instinctively what he was trying to tell her. This first time was important. It would set a precedent. If she didn’t love it, he would never forgive himself, and wouldn’t take her again.