Page 9 of King of Moon and Claws

“I assure you that you are special in more ways than one,” the king whispered, nearly growling. “I knew from the moment I first laid eyes on you, Elora.”

He drew closer, closing the gap halfway between them and halting. He felt her nervousness, her breathing increasing.

Yet she did not flee from him. That was sufficient evidence, along with the crown of perspiration on her forehead, that she felt a similar possession.

“You’ve never been around shifters, have you?” he inquired.

She shook her head, watching him closely.

“Very little.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, Elora,” he said, swaying languidly in the water. “You have to trust me on that.”

“I don’t want to stay here. I want to go home, Bastian.”

The king froze and then shook his head vehemently. He was slightly irked by her resistance, but at the same time, detested the sight of her discomfort.

“You can’t do that. I cannot assure your safety in a village surrounded by humans. Vasilis is still out there, and he could easily kidnap you again.”

He dared to glide closer, watching as Elora’s eyes darted about. He knew inherently that she wasn’t directly afraid of him necessarily. It was the situation, and he was going to remedy that as swiftly as he could.

Bastian inched even closer, a mere breath away. His cock was hard as a stone being so close to her. His skin vibrated, his wolf whimpering with profound need.

Yet he wouldn’t ever dream of taking her without her permission.

Her eyes bore into him like swords. He stared back, attempting to unearth the truth of her yearning.

“Why do you care about what happens to me?” she whispered, her voice breathy and laced with longing. “What does a human being taken advantage of by a vampire have to do with the King of Threwold?”

The king took a deep breath. He desperately wanted to close the space between them, to feel her bare skin graze his own. He wanted to rouse the most divine cries of pleasure from her rosy, plump lips, transcending her human existence into that of a supernatural one.

She waited for him as steam floated between them, an invisible force dividing their cosmic connection. Bastian licked his lips and told his truth, his voice like a firefly hovering over a lily pad.

“I knew from the moment I heard your telepathic cry for help that you were so much more than just any woman calling out to me. I knew that you, Elora, were meant to be mine. You are my mate.”

She swallowed, her breathing fast and heavy as he inched toward her, placing his arms around her head and pressing against the marble of the walls but not touching her.

Her fresh apple scent nearly strangled him as he waited with bated breath.

SIX

ELORA

Elora couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt such desire for a man. It was to the point where she literally shook with longing. He was insanely handsome and sexy, his voice rumbling over her skin and sending sparks to her nether regions. Her clitoris swelled under the water. The heat coating her thighs was far more electric than the heat of the hot springs.

It was all so damn absurd, yet so compelling.

“Wait, wait,” she said, holding her hands out in front of her after he’d cornered her against the wall. “Stop for a second. Take a step back. I need to think.”

He did as she asked which made her want him even more. She had felt the graze of his hard cock underwater, kissing the insides of her burning thighs. She was half disappointed he’d listened to her requests so acutely, while at the same time, riled by his willingness to please her.

How would that translate in bed? Elora knew without knowing that it would be a selfless act. It was everything a woman could ever want in a lover. A man who would worship every inch of her, the way God intended.

She shook the image from her mind, trying to return to reality, her head falling into her hands. Bastian remained still and solid, barely an inch from her like the most gorgeous statue she’d ever laid eyes on.

His chest was like a plate of armor, the cords of his muscles bulging and prominent. She could feel his energy from the shield of her hands, sense his strength, his passion for her put on hold.

Elora tried to center herself, her rational side returning begrudgingly as she spoke through her fingers.

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