Page 67 of Silent Lucidity

“Does this sound familiar to you?” she asked, raising her voice over the music.

With Abella’s hand touching his, it was difficult to focus on anything other than her, but Tenthil closed his eyes and made himself hear the music, made himselffeelit. Little by little, memories emerged. The sound of different drums from long ago and far away played in his head, keeping a quick, steady beat that sometimes built into a frenzy.

This music was not the same—and in his heart, he knew nothing ever could be—but it was reminiscent of the drums of his youth; it had similar energy, even if the sound was different. And, like that distant memory-music, there was something about this that demandedmovement, something that burrowed into one’s mind and set off something deep and almost instinctual.

He smiled and nodded.

Her grin widened as she released his hand. She backed up about a meter, bent her knees, and began stomping her bare feet and pumping her hips and chest to the beat of the music. She swung her arms back and forth and stepped side to side to compliment her other movements.

Her eyes never left his. “What about this?”

He watched her intently, marveling at the ease with which she’d fallen into the beat, at the effortless way she moved with the music.

He shook his head and strained to raise his voice over the music. “It is yours. It isyou. More special than anything from before.”

Abella paused, a shy look briefly crossing her features before she closed the distance between them and kissed him. It was a quick kiss, but it was no less powerful than any they’d previously shared, and it stoked the ever-burning fire within him.

She moved her mouth toward his ear to whisper, “Dance with me.”

Pulling away, she returned to her prior position and resumed her dance, closing her eyes and throwing her entire body into it. Every part of her moved to the pounding drums. She undulated and spun, flipping her hair, and Tenthil was as transfixed as he’d been the first time he saw her.

He drew in a deep breath, drinking in the sweetness of her scent, and stepped forward to join her, giving himself over to the music—and to his mate.

Abella’s heartthumped in time with the music; the drumbeat flowed through her, and she became one with it, body moving as though she were possessed. Dance was the one thing that had kept her sane through her years as Cullion’s pet, the one thing that kept her going. Though he’d often ordered her to dance, she’d never once danced for Cullion or any of his associates—she’d done it for herself. She’d done it to claim those fleeting moments during which she was swept away from everything by the music.

Now, she danced for Tenthil.

She opened her eyes and raised her head. Tenthil stepped close, placed his hands on her hips, and spun her to face away from him as he drew her abruptly against him. Abella gasped; her backside met his pelvis, and he slid his hands down to her thighs, gyrating against her in time with the music. Das Lust surged through her, and desire pooled between her legs.

Abella settled her hands over his, and he guided her arms upward, bringing her wrists around the back of his head. He trailed his fingers down her forearms, over her elbows, and along her sides, stopping them at her waist. Abella shivered as her breath quickened. She leaned back while his hands trekked upward again, over her stomach, to brush the undersides of her breasts.

She trembled in the wake of his touch, her already hot blood heating further as tingles raced across her skin.

When she tipped her head back against his shoulder, he lowered his face and captured her mouth with his own. His sweet, cinnamon taste burst across her tongue; it was an aphrodisiac that she couldn’t get enough of. Their motions no longer matched the music, but they didn’t need to—Tenthil and Abella had fallen into their own rhythm, a rhythm dictated by pounding hearts and ragged breaths, by electric jolts arcing through her body to coalesce at her core.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue moving in time with his rocking groin. Arousal slickened her inner thighs. Tenthil inhaled, tensed, and growled, grazing the fabric of her dress with his claws.

Abella grasped his hair and pulled her head back slightly, breaking the kiss. She opened her eyes to stare up into his. The sight of his gleaming black gaze sent fresh ripples of excitement through her; she knew what that darkness meant, knew he was on the edge of giving himself over to instinct.

“Fuck me, Tenthil,” Abella whispered. “Take me however you want.”

He moved forward in a rush, wrapped an arm around her to lift her off her feet, and carried her with him. In two strides, he had them at the wall. She had just enough time to get her arms in front of her and flatten her palms against the wall before he shoved her against it. His mouth pressed to her ear.

“Stay,” he rasped.

Tenthil released her for the space of a few heartbeats; during that time, she heard his ragged breaths, the jingle of his belt unbuckling, the whisper of his clothes coming off, the thump of his boots being tossed aside. She remained in place, her anticipation growing with each little sound.

When he pressed his body against her back, she felt only the heat of his skin and the solidness of his muscles through her clothing. His hands dropped to her waist and quickly slid lower to catch the hem of her dress. He yanked it up, baring her ass, and grasped her hips. He kicked her feet apart, spreading her legs wider, and tilted her pelvis back. Without warning, plunged his cock into her sex.

Abella gasped, eyes squeezing shut at the sudden fullness of him. He filled her, stretched her, hurt her and made her feelsodamned good; she could only beg for more.

And Tenthil gave it to her. He drew back and thrust into her again and again, pounding her against the wall, taking her in a frenzy. There were no words, only the blistering pleasure of his cock slamming in and out, stroking her inner walls, creating a maelstrom of sensation inside Abella.

She scraped her nails against the wall as his claws dug into her hips; the bit of pain his hold produced only added to her mounting pleasure.

Abella lifted her hips and pushed back to meet his thrusts. He snarled and drove into her harder, faster. He was a beast—brutal, animalistic, feral—and she was his mate.

She washis.

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