Page 22 of The Brute and the Blade

Lily Thornwood...is mine. And I will never, never let her go.

No matter how loud the doubts howl...or how deep the uncertainties cut.

9

Lily

I'm still shaking as Grok carries me through the torch-lit corridors of the stronghold, my heart pounding a frantic tattoo against my ribs. The heat of his body, the strength of his arms around me...it's overwhelming, intoxicating, a heady rush of sensation that leaves me dizzy and aching.

I can't believe what just happened, what we did...out there in front of the entire clan, the entire stronghold. The way he touched me, took me, staking his claim for all to see...

It was wild and wanton and utterly, deliciously depraved. And gods help me...I loved every second of it, every scorching caress and filthy promise growled against my skin.

Even now, even with the haze of lust receding and the weight of reality pressing in...I can't bring myself to regret it, to feel shame or remorse for my brazen display, my shameless surrender.

Because in that moment, lost in the heat and hunger of Grok's embrace...I felt free. Fearless. As if nothing and no one could touch me, tame me, so long as I was in his arms, anchored by his strength.

As if I belonged there, fitted against him like a key in a lock, two halves of a shattered whole finally fused together.

It's a terrifying thought, a treacherous one. Because I can't afford to belong to him, to anyone. I can't afford to let myself be swept away by the storm of sensation, of need, that rages between us.

I have a duty, a destiny...and it doesn't include playing mate to a monster, no matter how he makes me feel, how he sets my very soul ablaze.

But for tonight, a small, secret part of me whispers, for this one stolen moment out of time...can't I pretend? Can't I let myself feel, just for a little while...before I have to be strong again, before I have to fight again?

The yearning, the longing, is so sharp it steals my breath, brings tears to my eyes. Gods, I want to. I want to belong to him, to this fierce, fascinating male who challenges me, changes me, with every touch, every glance.

I want to lose myself in the wild, untamed beauty of his world, his being...and never, ever be found.

But I can't. I can't, no matter how my heart pounds and my body burns at the thought. No matter how right it feels, here in his arms, breathing in the scent of him, of us...

I have to be strong. I have to remember who I am, what I am...and why I can never, ever truly be his.

No matter how much I might want to be.

Grok shoulders open the door to his chambers—our chambers, a treacherous voice whispers—and strides inside, kicking it shut behind us with a decisive thud. The room is dim and warm, lit only by the flickering glow of the hearth and a few scattered candles.

It should feel strange, alien, this place that is so utterly, unapologetically his...but somehow, it feels like home. Like safety, a sanctuary from the chaos and conflict that rages beyond these walls.

Gently, almost reverently, Grok lowers me to the furs that cover the massive bed, his amber eyes molten in the firelight. I sink into the soft embrace of pelts and blankets, my body humming with anticipation, with need, as he looms over me, his huge frame blocking out the rest of the world.

"Lily," he rumbles, his voice a low, rasping growl that shivers through me like a physical caress. "My mate, my queen...gods, do you have any idea what you do to me? How desperately I crave you, every second of every fucking day?"

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry, my pulse a wild staccato in my veins. "Show me," I whisper, holding his gaze with my own, letting him see the hunger, the yearning, that mirrors his own. "Make me feel it, Grok. Make me yours...in every way there is."

A snarl rips from his throat, a sound of pure, primal want, and then he's on me, over me, his mouth claiming mine in a kiss that sears me to my very soul. I open for him instantly, eagerly, my lips parting and my tongue tangling with his in a wild, wanton dance.

His hands are everywhere, tugging at my clothes, my hair, mapping my curves with a possessive, almost desperate greed. I arch into his touch, moaning into his mouth as he palms my breasts, his thumbs circling and teasing my nipples into aching peaks.

"Off," he growls against my lips, his claws shredding my dress like so much tissue paper. "I need to see you, feel you...gods, Lily, I need to taste every fucking inch of you..."

I gasp as the cool air hits my bared skin, pebbling my flesh and making me shiver. But it's nothing compared to the heat of his gaze as it rakes over me, the raw, reverent hunger that blazes in those amber depths.

"Beautiful," he rasps, his voice thick and hoarse with emotion. "So fucking beautiful, my mate...my perfect, precious girl..."

His head dips, his mouth trailing scorching kisses down the column of my throat, across the sensitive skin of my collarbones. I tangle my fingers in his hair, holding him to me as he laves and nips and worships my flesh, as if he means to memorize me with lips and tongue and teeth.

When he reaches my breasts, drawing one aching peak into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth, I nearly come off the bed with a ragged cry of pleasure. He suckles me fiercely, his tongue swirling and flicking, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud and sending sparks of sensation sizzling through my blood.

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