Page 60 of Lord of Dance and Desire

It demanded I offer her my heart and my soul and sate her hunger with my mouth between her thighs.

She walked towards me, her natural grace and sensuality multiplied.

“Lady Hasannah,” I said. “You are well?”

Half of my attention had still been on the battle, but as soon as she'd stepped into view, the magical traps had dissipated, and my warriors had taken care of the rest of the physical obstructions.

Anah lifted one shoulder in a shrug, and glanced behind her. “Dartanyon isn’t. I didn’t need to wait for you after all.”

“Wh—what?”

She turned back to me. “He's still in one piece unless he can cut off his own head, but I doubt he's alive.” She smiled, pleased. “I can feel you in my mind again.” Anah stepped forward and twined her arms around my neck. “I think I'm still hungry.”

My body hardened. Just that edge of breathiness in her voice, just the look in her eyes, and I was helpless.

I braced myself against the sudden, raging need, and sheathed my blade, settling my hands on her hips. “Not here, cygnet. I'll feed you when we return home.”

She pouted a little, rubbing her bare chest against mine, and pulled my head down towards her. “Are you sure?”

Not at all.

Not entirely of my own volition, I slid my hand between her thighs, feeling her flesh, then stilled. Her wet flesh. The inside of her thighs warm with slick. The source of that masculine scent.

“Hasannah? Are you well?”

The words were strangled. I couldn’t quite control my voice, the surge of vicious rage that another male had touched, had hurt, what belonged tome. For a single, defining moment, everything in me went Dark.

Touched her. He’dtouchedher.

I felt her begin to retreat and stuffed my instinctive reaction down, gently shackling her upper arms. This was a battlefield. In battle there were deaths, and injuries. And in the end, she was the one who’d been harmed. My feelings were not important.

“Are you well?” I repeated when I could speak again, gentling my voice. I caressed her arms with my thumbs.

Anah grimaced and lifted her chin as if forcing herself to meet my gaze. Unflinchingly. “I had to distract him. But I'm full, so there's that.”

It was the succubus talking, not my bonded. But they were one and the same.

She. . .had had to distract him.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, and when I opened them again gave her the kiss she was silently demanding, brushing my lips against her own.

“I'm glad you feel well, my darling, and I'm certain you were lethally distracting. Your aid was invaluable. Will you accept my escort home?”

She considered, her gaze traveling around and pausing on Con and Math before she looked back up at me. “If you insist.”

Chapter

Sixteen

ANDREIEN

Iwatched Anah dance for the fifth night in a row. Night was a loose term; she’d barely stopped dancing except to eat or collapse into our bed since I’d brought her home. I understood the anger spurring her, the fear, the rage, and the helplessness.

The need to exert utter control over something, if only this.

So I stepped back. We all did. I didn't intervene except to ask her if she wished to eat, or rest, or bathe. Or let me brush her hair or color her nails or rub creams into her skin—which she endured for my sake, a part of her still attuned to the bonding instincts driving my behavior.

Realms, I prayed to the Dark this lash would ease soon. I enjoyed taking care of her, but I wasn’t insane; I understood I was being overbearing. She endured me, as she always had, her thoughts on some distant stage while she submitted her body to my ministrations.

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