Page 90 of The King has Fallen

I’d picked her up and carried her out because the water would close over her head while I was only chest deep. It was a precious moment, to hold her to me, her flesh warm in the cold water, one hand under her ass, the other free to… roam.

She had laced her fingers behind my neck and wrapped her legs around my waist, her ankles locked at my back. Her eyes never left my face.

And then, when I had us deep enough, I released my wings and used them to keep us buoyant, drawing my legs up, so she could sit in my lap without having to hold on.

“You’re so strong,” she murmured, but there was an edge in her voice—a tang of fear.

I stroked her hair back from her face. “Strength is an asset when it’s applied to your protection.”

She nodded and smiled, leaned in and kissed me—and then let her hands drop down to stroke me.

I shuddered into that kiss when she took hold of me, those little hands so soft and small compared to mine. But just when I might have let my head fall back and given myself up to her touch, I caught her wrists and blew out a breath, staring deep into her cat-like eyes that were wide.

“Yilan,” I said hoarsely. “I love your touch. But I need more. I needyou.”

A strange look came over her then. She smiled as if I’d pleased her and leaned in to kiss me briefly but deeply… then sat back. “I know.”

Reaching for her beautiful face, I pulled her back into the kiss, my chest thrumming, sighing her name and trying to find the words to reassure her, to insist that she not deny what was between us.

Mate.

Soulbond.

Mine.

“Yilan—”

She’d plunged both hands into my hair and was kissing me back with vigor, with enthusiasm. Yet, small noises broke in her throat—fearful whimpers.

As her body told one story, the sounds she made told another, leaving me uncertain, pulling away, until she gasped, “No!” and pulled me back in.

Yet, when our mouths met, there was that fearful cry again.

Did she fear my size? Fear that I’d hurt her?

Fear breeding with me?

The thought that she was my mate and so might bear my young was a rush—quickly followed by a wave of fear.

So many women died giving birth to Nephilim young. Being a soulmate didn’t protect from the sheer size of Nephilim babes in relation to their mothers.

The dark thoughts made me hesitate, but she whispered, “No, don’t, Melek.” She curled one hand at the back of my neck and pulled me in, reaching between us with the other and stroking me again.

She still made those sad and fearful whimpers, but her touch, her kiss—everything grew heated.

She breathed almost as heavily as I did, her nails digging into the back of my neck. The water rippling as we began to rock together, her stroking pushing me closer and closer to release.

“Yilan… oh god,” I gasped.

That little cry broke in her throat again and I reached for her, ready to stop her, but she shook her head and took me in both hands then, breathing my name with a plea.

And then my body was cresting that wave, ready to crash over the peak. I spread my wings for balance as my back arched, grabbing for her to keep her close as I bowed and let my head fall back, jaw dropping, and everything in my heart rushing out of my mouth.

“Yilan…”

“Melek! Please!” she cried.

“YILAN, dear God—you hold my soul, my… MATE!” I roared, the water rippling and sloshing as my body jerked and shuddered towards—

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