"You're more than beautiful," he whispered, "you're sexier than sin."
"You're complaining?" She dropped her hands as he moved his to the side of her dress and tugged at the tie that held it up.
The tie came loose. "I didn't like the way Markson was undressing you with his eyes."
"He was not." Feeling the dress fall open at the front, she shifted so he could pull the tie out of the inner loop. He did . . . and the fabric dropped.
"Mmm." It was a murmur of utter pleasure as he began to pull the dress down over her arms. "I'm the only one allowed to undress you"—a kiss on her bare shoulder—"to pet you."
Pet.
The word reminded her that he wasn't human, wasn't anything tame. "You're very possessive." Air hit her back, her breasts. Then the dress was falling over her fingertips to pool on the floor.
Behind her, he made a sound strikingly close to a growl, one hand caressing the curve of her waist. "You already knew that, Annie."
Of course she had. A predatory-changeling male, no matter how playful, had possessiveness built into his soul. For as long as she kept his interest, he would demand everything from her. She knew she'd give him what he wanted . . . everything but her faith. That, she thought, she no longer had to give. Her parents' marriage had shattered her belief in forever a long time ago. Sadness might've beckoned, but then Zach slid his hand up to lie flat over her stomach, big, hot, and darkly possessive, and her thoughts fractured.
"Zach?"
"Shh. I'm looking."
The husky statement made her body clench inside, her thighs tremble. She was wearing black lace . . . for him.
"Annie." He groaned and reached up to unhook her bra. "I want to see."
An instant later, she found herself standing there in nothing but her panties and a pair of strappy sandals.
She was in no way ready for the boldness with which he moved to cup her breast. "Oh!" She trembled at the touch, at the erotic sight of his hand on her. His skin was tanned, rawly masculine against her creamy flesh.
When he squeezed, it was all she could do not to collapse.
"You're so pretty, Annie"—he spread the fingers of his other hand on her stomach—"I could lap you right up."
Completely in his thrall, she raised her hand to reach back and touch his face. He nipped at her with his teeth, chuckling when she jumped. "I want to be in bed. This is going to take some time."
Her brain turned to mush right then and there, and when he shifted to scoop her into his arms, she was so startled, she squeaked and grabbed on to his neck. "I'm too heavy, Zach. Put me down."
"Questioning my muscles?" A wicked smile. "Kiss me."
Unable to resist, she obeyed, not stopping until he laid her down on the bed and rose. His eyes glittered the green-gold of the cat, hunger in every stark line of his face. She watched, heart in her throat, as he stripped off his jacket, then removed his shirt. He was built sleek and powerful, a predator in human form.
She sighed in unashamed pleasure and saw his eyes gleam as he bent down to get rid of his shoes and socks. "Now yours," he said, moving to the bottom of the bed and tugging off her sandals one by one, following each removal with a long, slow look up her body.
By the time he finally got on the bed beside her, she was so aroused that she rose to claim a kiss of her own. When he nipped at her lips as he seemed to like doing, she nipped back. He raised his head, his hand closing possessively over her breast. "Do that again."
Eyes wide, she did. He purred into her mouth. She broke the kiss to stare at him. "What was that?"
A feline smile. "Nothing." He reclaimed her lips, and a second later she felt that vibration again, that sign that he was something other, changeling to her human. It made her shudder with the need to crush her breasts against him.
"You purr," she accused when they parted.
"So do you." Coming over her, he began to kiss his way down the line of her neck. He seemed to get distracted between the curves of her breasts, leaving her to clutch at the sheets in unadulterated pleasure as he sucked and kissed. When teeth became involved, she cried out, feeling her body tighten into a fist so tight, a single touch would send her over.
He blew his breath deliberately across one wet nipple.
She shattered, and the pleasure was a tidal wave that demanded everything she had. When she finally resurfaced, Zach had recommenced his sensual exploration of her body, the dark strands of his hair sweeping over her like a thousand stroking fingers.
She ran her hands through the rough silk of it, feeling sated and content. And happy.
He looked up, a lazy smile in his*eyes. "Yes?"
"Come kiss me." She'd never imagined she would one day make such a brazen demand, but Zach listened to her. Even if he didn't always give her what she wanted.
He shook his head. "After."
"After what?"
His answer was to keep on kissing her, going
steadily lower. When his lips pressed over black lace, she trembled. He did it again. Then she felt the whisper of something on her outer thighs—glancing down, she saw her panties being thrown off the side of the bed. "How?"
The eyes that met hers were wild, exotic. "I used a claw to cut them off."
"Oh." She looked at his human hand. "Like a very small shift?"
"Hmm." He wasn't paying attention, more concerned with pushing apart her thighs and raising her legs to put them over his shoulders. She'd never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. She waited, stomach tight.
But nothing could've prepared her for the ecstasy of his touch. Zach liked to take his time—he pushed her to insanity over and over. It might've terrified her except that he made no effort to hide his own arousal, murmuring his pleasure with every slow lick. "Sweet, pretty, Annie," he said. "My Annie."
She discovered she was raising her body to his mouth, moving with a sensual bliss that was scandalous in its eroticism. He liked it. She knew, because he told her so, his voice close to a growl.
"I am definitely going to bite," he whispered. And then he did.
By the time she could think again, he was getting off the bed. She exhaled in pleasure as he stripped off to reveal a body hard with arousal.
"Look what you do to me," he whispered, moving to kneel between her legs. He stroked his hands under her thighs. "Come here."
She swallowed at what he was asking, knowing it had far more to do with trust than sex. But she couldn't refuse, had the strangest feeling that any hint of rejection from her would wound him incredibly deeply. Rising, she held on to his shoulders and let him support her bottom as her body brushed over the tip of his erection. "Zach," she whispered, drowning in the intimacy of his eyes, "you undo me."
His eyes flickered from cat back to human. "Hold on to me, baby. I won't let go."
Breath coming in jagged bursts, she lowered herself onto him. He stretched her to the limit. But she wanted him inside her, wanted to possess him as absolutely as he'd possessed her. She drove down and shuddered. "It's too much." The angle was deep, the penetration intense.
He kissed her. "We'll practice until you get used to it." It was a husky promise as he laid her back down, bracing his body over hers using his hands.
"How much practice?" She wrapped her legs around the lean beauty of his hips, no longer shy with this man who treated her as if she was a goddess.
He groaned, pulled out a little, then thrust, as if he couldn't help himself. "Lots." Though sweat-damp hair hung over his forehead, and sexual need was an inferno in his eyes, he waited to give her time to adjust.
She felt a violent tenderness grab hold of her heart.
He was, quite simply, wonderful. Raising her arms, she pulled him down and kissed him, telling him without words that it was okay to let go.
He groaned. And began to move.
Annie looked down at the male sprawled by her side the next morning and felt -her body sigh. He was fast asleep and gilded dark gold by the sunlight sneaking in through the blinds. He'd kept her up half the night, loving her so thoroughly that she felt possessed.
Taken. Branded.
Refusing to surrender to panic, to give him up to protect herself, she reached out to trace the tattoo she'd discovered on his back sometime during the night.
It linked to the one on his biceps, which was actually the stylized tail of a dragon. That dragon's front claws rested on his left shoulder, the mythical creature's sinuous body stretching across his back. It was a stunning design . . . and another example of the wildness in him.
That wildness brought her alive, made joy sear her blood.
It also frightened her—the depth of what she felt.
Finally, she truly understood why her mother had stayed with her father all these years. Her mind filled with the echo of Kimberly's voice from a rainy night more than fifteen years ago.
Your father used to call me his heaven.
That time had passed long ago, as would Zach's interest in her. Yet even after the spark faded, Annie now knew that the temptation to stay . . . to hope for another moment when he might look at her as he once used to, would be overwhelming. It was that futile hope that kept her mother tied to her father, but, though she understood it, it wasn't a path Annie would ever allow herself to follow.
It would break her heart to see Zach look at her with disinterest in his eyes. She'd leave before that, at the first insidious signs of fading passion. It was bound to happen . . . but not yet, she prayed. Please not yet. Heart tight with a mixture of joy and pain, she lay down beside him, content to trail her fingertips over his tattoo and watch him sleep.
That was when she noticed his lips were curved.
"Zach." A whisper.
Cat eyes looking into hers. "Mmm?"
"How long have you been awake?"
Chapter 9
"Long enough to enjoy you petting me." unrepentant mischief in his eyes. And desire. The desire was still there. Relief made her melt from the inside out.