Page 22 of Fate Unchained

She raised a brow. “You described a lot of ways you’d bed me. Clearly, you’ve given it some thought.” It was the only thing she could think to say to make him stop looking so angry.

It worked. His mouth opened and closed. “I …”

Her hand caressed up his neck, and his eyelids lowered a fraction. The iciness in her chest faded. He tossed the bag of jerky on the ground and grabbed her waist, hauling her up and onto his lap. His mouth landed on her neck, right below her jaw, and his teeth scraped down the column of her throat. She whimpered.

He growled, and pulled her closer.

She stroked her hands over his shoulders and up the back of his neck. Everywhere he put his mouth, heat flared through her veins. Her head dropped back, and she moaned.

Kyril’s hot tongue teased down to her shoulder. “The taste of you is like a drug.”

She’d never thought a tongue could feel this way. His arms wrapped around her, and her bare bottom settled over his waist. Something hard and thick pressed against her, and when she wriggled, Kyril groaned.

Lust punched through her like a runaway carriage. She clawed at his back, wanting more. The blanket slid down, allowing cool air to flow across her shoulders.

Kyril’s hand trailed down her back. He let out a bunch of words in another language. How was he so potent? She’d tried sex a few times with Norville just to find out what it was all about. Not once had desire flared like this.

For this grumpy, hulking vulk.

He drew back, and his pupils had dilated, turning his eyes almost solid black. Using the back of his knuckles, he brushed them across her cheek, then down her neck. Her lids fluttered, and her lips parted slightly. He slid his thumb across her lower lip.

“Ladies aren’t supposed to invite touching.” She leaned farther into his hand.

“Says who?”

“My aunt, for one,” she whispered.

He shifted closer and kept running his fingers along her jaw, her neck, as if he didn’t want to stop touching her. His bergamot scent seemed to strengthen, swirling around them both. She inhaled deeply. Good heavens he smelled divine. Warmth rolled through her, and her breasts tingled.

Her gaze lowered to his chest. Then drifted lower. “Why don’t you wear clothes? People must stop and stare at you.”

“Vulk keep our sartorial needs to a minimum. Besides, most people run in fear. The only one ogling, is you. And touching.”

He wasn’t wrong. “Sartorial. Good word.” She smiled.

He went still, staring at her as if he’d never seen her before. His thumb traced her lips again. “You really want a pact with me?” His voice was rough. “What kind of help do you need?”

“What if I told you I wanted you to kill someone?”

He smiled slowly. “I’d be impressed, petal.”

Her brows shot up. “You give your word to help me, and I’ll help you, too. I’ll tell you what I know.”

“You think I’d honor my word?”

Their gazes locked. He’d gone serious, looking at her intently again. She raised her chin a fraction. “Yes. I think you’ll keep your word.”

He gave her a short nod. “Fine. We have an agreement.”

9

Kyril stood at the far side of the cave, his back to Lilah again. Fabric rustled as she put her clothes back on. He dug his hind claws into the cool stone floor, forcing himself to stay where he was and not run back to her. Damn, he wanted to keep unwrapping her to explore every inch of her skin.

Bad. This was bad.

One small taste of her, and now he couldn’t think straight. And when he’d pulled her on his lap, she’d clawed at him, stroked him, and the vanilla scent of her arousal had filled the air. She wanted him, too.

A human, a beautiful human, wanted him.

---