Chapter Eighteen

Damian took a deep, steadying breath, the stench of burnt flesh gradually leaving his nostrils. He rubbed his eyes, pushing the memories back along with the acid that burned in his throat. Slowly, he lowered his hand and returned to the present.

Amber sat beside him, having moved from the end of the bed at some point during his story. One hand rested on his knee, the heat of her palm warming his skin through the material of his jeans. Her energy filled him, pooling into him from the one simple contact point.

Like always.

“They blamed you?” she said softly, her probing eyes searching his face.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t they believe you?”

He looked down, away, anywhere but into her too-trusting eyes. “The first reason was the mark.” He lifted his hand to show the white dragon on the back of it. “My mark changed to this that night. When I was born, I had the mark of the eagle.”

Flipping his hand around, he stared absently at the innocuous mark. “Well, this mark minus the wings. Those didn’t appear until this morning, after I met you.”

His dragon stirred at the mention of the wings, fluttering them lightly as if to taunt him with the appendages.

Amber shifted, pulling her legs under her as she leaned forward and grasped his hand. She smoothed her fingers over the dragon mark, causing the dragon to arch and growl in contentment.

“How did the wings get there?”

He shrugged and rubbed his free hand through his hair. “Just another in the growing list of questions.”

“What was the second reason?” She lifted her head to look at him. “You said the first reason was the mark, what was the second?”

Sheer force of will kept his leg from bouncing in agitation. His lips tightened as he fought back the bitterness. “The energy. The energy said I helped to kill Khristos. That I had a hand in his death.”

“How?”

“I don’t know,” he bit out, the anger and frustration hurling their ugly venom at her. She flinched. He ripped his hand from her tender grasp and anchored his fists in his hair. “I don’t know. Don’t you see? The energy lied. Somehow it spoke untruths about me. It manipulated the entire enclave into believing something that was not—is not—true.”

Her warm palm fluttered to his bare chest.

His breath froze as a thousand bolts of lightning fired into him. He dropped his hands and watched her, wary, uncertain. Vulnerable.

Exposed.

All fucking emotions he didn’t want to contend with, but she blew him wide open. She forced him to confront them.

She tilted her head to the side, her hair falling in a waterfall down her shoulder. Her eyes narrowed in concentration as if she was listening to something.

“I don’t hear it,” she said quietly. “I hear only the truth in what you just told me. I hear your pain at the betrayal. At all you have lost. But I do not hear the lies.”

“Then you are the only one.” The defeat in his voice did not surprise him. After so many years, the thought of anyone believing him was a long-forgotten dream.

“Maybe you only need the right one.”

“What do you mean?”

Ever so slightly, her palm smoothed back and forth over his chest. Thoughtful, exploratory. “What do you believe, Damian? Do you believe you are responsible for your brother’s death?”

On reflex, he shook his head, but halted abruptly. Did he? Damn. “I could have done more,” he finally said. “He shouldn’t have died while I stood by and did nothing.”

“What could you have done?” Her inquiry was probing, but not pushy. The impact of her question was eased by the softness in her voice.

“I don’t know…anything but stand there and watch.”

“Do you really believe that?” Her hand stilled on his chest. “That you did nothing? Or is the guilt keeping you from seeing the truth?”

This time he was the one who flinched. The immediate denial was poised at the end of his tongue. Maybe it was the lack of judgment that mingled with the simmer of dare in her penetrating eyes that halted his automatic response. There was no cruelty in her words, only a question he wanted to deflect. It would be easier to deny and dodge—the tactic he’d been employing with dismal results for way too long.

What was it with this woman? A day in her presence, and he was purging his soul. He needed to man up and pull away. Put the emotional wall back in place before the barricade was permanently destroyed.

But he couldn’t stop. The energy pushed at him to trust her. Believe in her and what she offered. Did he dare trust it?

Did he dare believe again?

Forcing his jaw to relax, he finally admitted, “Of course I feel guilt. He was my brother. The cherished and honored heir.” He thrust a finger at his chest. “I was supposed to protect him. Guard him. And I failed.” Failed. Miserably.

“It sounds to me like he failed.” She didn’t falter despite the murderous glare he sent at her. “He lost the battle, not you. He took the life of the female, not you.”

“What do you know?” He pushed her hand from his chest, her touch too intimate. His defenses too fragile to stand hard against her attack.

She clasped her hands in her lap and looked down. After a moment, she tilted her head up to look at him with shuttered eyes. “I know what it’s like to bear the shame of someone else’s actions. I know how hard it is to hold your head up against false accusations. I know the pain of being ostracized for something you had no control over.”

And just like that, his defenses threw down their battle weapons in a surprising defeat. Her quiet admission stunned him. Humbled him with its blatant honesty. She did understand. Not just hypothetically, but from experience. And she waited for him, every muscle stiff from the exposure.

He cupped her face, his thumb caressing the soft skin of her cheek. She relaxed and pressed her head into his palm. Again, the vulnerability that hid just below her surface glimmered in the faint light of the room.

“There is much I don’t know about you,” he murmured.

She looked away, briefly, before her spine straightened and her gaze returned to his. “Who was she? The woman your brother was protecting, then killed?”

Accepting the topic volley back to him, he sighed and dropped his hand. “I don’t know. No one ever told me.”

“Do you know why he killed her?”

Another shrug. “I can only assume it was to keep her from the Shifter.”

“Tubal?” Her brow furrowed in thought. He could practically see the wheels of her analytical mind turning. All the information turning and tumbling in her head as she tried to make sense of it all. “The same man who attacked us tonight?”

“Yes.”

“The same man who wants me?”

His jaw tightened. “Yes.”

Understanding dawned on her face. He stiffened, anticipating what was next. Pity was for losers. A worthless emotion that would make him feel smaller than a weeping toddler.

But it wasn’t pity that gleamed in her eyes. If anything, it was a deadly intent that almost mirrored what he felt.

She leaned in, her eyes narrowing. “The same man who claims I’m a Shifter?”

What? Where’d that come from? He sat up. “There is no way you’re a Shifter, Amber. There is not an evil thread in you,” he insisted adamantly. His own eyes narrowed. “When did he say you were a Shifter?”

“It was the woman, Kassandra,” she said very calmly, as if none of it were disturbing to her. “The one who took Tubal away. While you were passed out in the tower, she came back. She claims Tubal wants me because I’m a Shifter.”

“Not. A. Chance. In. Hell.” The anger fired in him, immediate and all-consuming, hardening his voice. Sealing his resolve. There was no way Tubal would ever get his hands on her.

A conspiratorial half-smile curved over her lips. “Then next time, we’ll need to ensure that he doesn’t get away.” Mischief sparked her features. “Of course, next time, I just might take him out for you. It seems my little flamethrowing trick packs a mighty punch.” She wiggled her fingers in a taunting jibe.

The tension left him. His head sagged back against the headboard, a smile curling the edges of his mouth.

“Getting cocky already?” He lifted an eyebrow in question. “But there is the small detail that you must remove his head in order to truly kill him.”

Her grin fell, her face blanched. She sat back and licked her lips. “Yeah. Okay. So maybe I’ll just leave the actual killing part to you.”

He laughed. A full chest roll that startled them both. Impulsively, he reached out and pulled her tight against his side. Her eyes opened wide. Surprised by the move or the contact?

“Deal,” he said, his attention following the tip of her pink tongue as it slicked across her lips. “It’s my job to slay the dragons for you.”

“Ah, speaking of dragons.” Her eyes narrowed again as she poked him in the chest. “You could have warned me about that.”

He chuckled. “And you would have believed me? They’re kind of one of those things most people need to see to believe.”

Her eyes rolled up and she shook her head. “And levitation, fireballs and teleporting aren’t? I think I’m pretty much past the whole seeing to believe standard.”

“And could you have said that five hours ago?” His question brought home just how quickly everything had transpired. How much she had endured and absorbed in a day. He lifted a hand to her cheek before he let his fingers trail through the soft strands of her hair. He couldn’t get enough of the silky mass. “You’ve endured much today. And yet you can still joke with me. How?”

She stretched out her legs and laid her head on the uninjured side of his chest. Her fingers traced a light path around the mostly healed wound on his shoulder, the soft strokes heating the desire that flamed to life at her contact.

“Because it’s you,” she finally said, the words releasing faint whispers of air against his skin. “I understand now why you don’t trust the energy. What it’s telling us. But for me, it hasn’t lied. For whatever reason, in the course of a truly messed up day, I have come to believe in what it’s telling me.” She took a deep breath and released it. “And it’s telling me to trust you. It’s telling me to be with you.”

She pushed away so she could look in his eyes. “Do you know why?”

Hell, no. He had no idea why the energy would give him such a gift. After all it had taken from him, it was now handing him her. A treasure he wanted to keep.

One he would be stupid to throw away.

His arm tightened around her. “No. I don’t,” he answered honestly. “I don’t understand any of it. But how could I doubt a gift as perfect as you?”

She looked down, the quiet echoing around them. “I’m not perfect.”

He tilted her chin back up. “Neither am I. No one is. But as a gift into my life—you are perfect.” The doubt in her eyes shot a hole right through his heart.

“Who hurt you?” he probed gently.

“Who hasn’t?” she replied so quickly he knew it was honesty, not sarcasm speaking. Just as quickly, she tried to push away from him.

He held tight. “I won’t hurt you, Amber.” She stilled, then slowly met his gaze, the hesitation another shot to his heart. “Not anymore. Never again.” He brushed her hair over her shoulder. Her hand fisted on his chest.

Never again did he want to hurt her.

Against his better judgment, he leaned in and kissed her, his restraint holding him back as he waited for her. Thankfully, she didn’t hesitate or pull away. She met his lips, opening to him. God, she was so innocent. So untainted.

But her lips were strong, sure. Not questioning or doubting. Her tongue licked over his bottom lip in a soft stroke of invitation.

All questions of right or wrong were crushed under the petal-soft touch. He pulled her tighter to his chest and entered her welcoming mouth. He almost groaned under the hot onslaught, the tentative brush of her tongue as it met his, the slight hint of cinnamon that filled his taste buds.

She moaned sweetly as her fingers laced around his neck to pull his lips tighter against her own. He could feel the passion unfolding within her, the blossoms spreading under the warm glow that fired between them. Through them. She invaded his mouth and he let her explore. He gloried in the swipe of her tongue, the little nips and licks over his lips, the hard crush when she plunged into the depths of his mouth to reach every hidden crevice.

She was hot, sweet. Beautiful.

His hands fisted in her hair to keep them from going to the soft breasts that brushed torturously against his chest. His cock throbbed in hard demand under the tight confines of his jeans. A demand that had never really receded, but was now screaming to be filled. By her.

But he held back. Afraid to push her, to scare her away. She vibrated with vulnerability when it came to sex, and he wouldn’t rush her.

Fuck. The shaman’s words blasted into mind. His virgin bride.

Was it possible? Was it not? He should stop.

Suddenly, with the stealth of a seasoned warrior, Amber shifted to straddle his hips. Her lips never left his as she ravaged his mouth. Her hands ran up his chest, stopping to brush over the taut peaks of his nipples, sending sharp nails of need through him. When the warm juncture between her thighs settled on his erection, he was lost. She moaned and rocked gently on his lap.

Blistering desire stunned him senseless. Her growing passion matched by her increasing confidence shattered all thought. All resistance.

He was lost to her.

 

He tasted so good. Better than anything that had ever crossed her lips. Like spice and desire. The sensations burst inside Amber as she came to life with a need, a want so strong she couldn’t contain it. Hot flames, a pulsing burn, an undeniable ache between her legs right where his rigid cock met her body.

She rocked on it again. She was unable to stop the instinctive movement. God, it felt so good. He felt so good. His mouth was hot, welcoming. There was no demand. No pushing. It was all about her. What she wanted.

He knew. Somehow, he knew what she needed. Let her lead even though she had no idea where she was going.

And she didn’t feel shy or insecure at all. Confidence reigned dominant within her. He groaned and thrust almost unwillingly upward into her aching core.

He pulled his mouth from hers, his hands fisting in her hair pushing her back so he could rest his forehead against hers. Heavy breaths panted thick in the quiet.

“Amber,” he groaned, a deep, throaty sound. “If you don’t stop now, I won’t be able to.”

She pushed in to lick his lips. He groaned again. “I don’t want you to,” she admitted. No, stopping was the last thing she wanted.

Finally, she wanted it all. Wanted to know what was at the end of all this feeling. At the end of the desire and passion that burned in her like a raging inferno.

He pushed her back until their eyes met. He stared into her, looking deeper than any man ever had before. “Are you sure? Do you know where this is going?”

Unwanted, the heat spread over her face. “I’m not a child, Damian, nor am I naïve. And I know exactly where this is going.” She looked him over then threw out the challenge. “Do you?”

He inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring. In anger? Desire?

In the next instant she was flat on her back, Damian looming over her, his body pressed hard between her legs. The challenged accepted.

“I would never think you naïve,” he growled, the intensity in his eyes burning her soul. “It’s your innocence that I question. I cannot give it back to you if I take it.”

Ping. The lock around her heart broke apart into a thousand pieces.

This man was all hers.

“I don’t want it back,” she whispered, brushing her fingers over his chiseled cheek. “Ever. It’s yours.” How did he know she was a virgin? A small part of her wondered, but it didn’t matter right then. Not then. She looped her legs around his thighs and pulled him tighter to her body.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his eyes closing, his arms shaking. “You’re going to kill me, Amber.”

“Then kill me too,” she said before she pulled his mouth back to hers. She wanted this. Needed this. Him.

There was no holding back this time. Damian took her mouth, plundering the hot depths like a man possessed. His tongue sought hers, stroking, guiding, stoking the flame that burned below.

His energy flooded her, pulsing out to her limbs in time with the rapid thumping of her heart. In time with his until they were unified. Synchronized to a single beat.

Incredible.

God. She was swimming in feeling. Sensation. Her hands brushed down the hard muscles of his back. So broad. Defined. Smooth.

His mouth left hers to trail a line of kisses down her jaw until his hot, wet tongue traced her ear. She sucked in a breath before a moan tore from her throat, a deep, guttural sound that pooled up from the depths of her chest. Her feelings bordered on desperate.

She wanted everything without knowing exactly what she wanted.

His hand smoothed up the sides of her ribs, under her shirt until it cupped her breast. She arched into his touch. “God, Damian.” She tossed her head to the side as he nipped her earlobe, his hand skimming across her nipple. The sensation shot straight to the hot spot between her legs. “I need…” What? Something. “More…” It was all she could get out.

Growling, he pulled back to slide both hands under her shirt. The material bunched on his wrist as his callused palms moved up her sides. The roughened hands of a warrior, not an executive. How had she ever believed he was just a CEO? The fire that burned in his eyes was all fighter. Conqueror.

“Lift,” he demanded. She did, arching her back and lifting her arms until her shirt was removed. The flame in his eyes scorched her, the hot desire smoothing over her naked flesh as his gaze slowly perused the new offering. “Beautiful,” he murmured absently as he lightly grazed the lace edging of her bra. The soft touch sent chills through her and caused her breath to hitch.

She felt beautiful and she absolutely loved the feel of him looking at her. Him. The first man to ever see her so exposed. Yet there were no insecurities. No doubt within her at all.

Only need. Want.

Her bird cooed deep in its throat and arched its head, the satisfaction emanating out of the vibrations in its chest to resonate within her. The stone burned, heavy and welcomed between her breasts. The energy pulsed around it, around them and into her.

Damian’s finger circled around the outer ring of the pendant, trailing sparks of liquid fire in its wake. His small homage to the entity that had united them. The stone glimmered in the dim light, the colors dancing and rolling with the waves of energy.

Finally, his finger moved aside to dip below the lacey material and ever so slowly brushed across the hard tip of her aching nipple. She gasped, arched, the lightening hot ping of need tightening in her core. The simple touch was amazing.

He smiled. “You like that.”

Not a question. Not one she could answer anyway. Her voice was stuck. Frozen as he removed the material completely, discarding her bra and baring her breasts fully. Her nipples stiffened, puckering under the heat of his stare, under the brush of cool air.

She couldn’t move. The anticipation locked her immobile.

Finally, he cupped her breasts, pressing lightly before his fingers reached up to pluck then squeeze the rigid peaks. Her back came off the mattress, a silent moan opening her mouth. Her body sang with feeling at the sharp pleasure-pain that shot through her.

This. This is what she’d wanted. What she’d waited for.

But more. Definitely more.

He watched her, passion etched over his hard features, his lips ripe from their kisses. He stilled and held her gaze.

“There is so much I want to do to you, Amber.” His rough, gravel-edged voice flowed over her like an ancient mating call. “With you. Will you let me?”

He asked. Her heart broke wide open, the exposed feelings thumping in acceptance within her heart. He asked. It was a simple courtesy that meant so much to her. More than he could possibly know. Offered freely, not because of her past, but because that was the kind of man he was.

Her hands smoothed up the powerful arms that bracketed her body. Over the rounded muscles of his biceps, shoulders, then down the hard plain of his chest until they reached the rippled edging of his abs. Only then did she meet his eyes. Eyes that freely displayed the passion and desire that smoldered within him. Eyes that held so much more that she was afraid to define. Afraid to hope for.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Show me.”

His head dipped, his eyes closing in a brief silent acknowledgment before he dropped to seal his mouth over her nipple. God. Heaven. Pleasure. Her mind blanked. Feeling took over everything. Hot, moist. Unbelievable.

Her head tossed, her hands clenched in his hair. His teeth grazed the edge of the peak, then bit down. Her legs tightened, spasmed around his to pull his hard erection against her throbbing sex. Pleasure. Pain. Hot, aching need. Everywhere.

Damian bathed one nipple then the other with lavish attention. Stroking, nipping, sucking until she teetered on the edge of exploding. It was incredible. The fresh scent of the earthy shampoo, the dark edge of pine and thunder bathed her nostrils. She squirmed under him, unable to hold still. Wanting to absorb him.

Have him.

Finally, his head lifted and she pulled him to her mouth, needing the heat and the connection that bound him to her. His tongue fought with hers, the battle even, the sparring equally matched. His hard chest rubbed over her wet and begging nipples, the pressure shooting to her womb. God, she ached.

As if he read her thoughts, Damian’s hand moved down her waist to run over her bare skin at the edge of her jeans.

“Damian,” she breathed, arching her hips to meet his hand.

“Last chance, Amber.”

She yanked his mouth back to hers, showing him how much she wanted him. She pushed him back and held his gaze. “Don’t you dare stop.” She would die if he stopped.

He reared back, kneeling between her legs. His hands brushed her stomach, circled her belly button then unfastened her jeans. “I wouldn’t think of it.”

She watched, entranced. Her chest heaved with each breath, the anticipation mounting. The light rasp of her zipper purred through the room. She moaned, her fingers stroking over the tender flesh of her stomach before they gripped the hard muscles on his forearms. The muscles flexed and tightened under her grasp.

Sweat gleamed on his skin in the pale glow of the bedside light. His chest expanded, contracted in a deep cadence that matched her own. Slowly, he pulled the material over her hips, down her legs, the brush of the fabric a gentle caress against her hyper-sensitive skin. Reverently, he looked at her, his gaze passing over the length of her body.

His fingers hooked under the edge of her panties, his eyes lifting to ask a final, unspoken question. She held his gaze and shifted her hips up in answer. He inhaled, then slid the final obstacle down her legs. The cool air brushed over her, clashing against the heat that burned within her. She shivered.

“Again, beautiful,” he said, his searing look saying more than the words. Fully exposed to him, she had never felt more secure. His hands smoothed up her legs. A kiss dropped on her knee. Her inner thigh. Oh God. The top of her pubic bone. Her legs flinched closed slightly.

“Trust me, Amber,” he breathed across her lower stomach. His hot breath shot straight to her womb, tightening the ache that burned below. She squirmed, her feet rubbing anxiously into the soft velvet of the duvet.

“I do,” she panted. “I just want…” She tossed her head. “I don’t know…”

His fingers pressed between her legs, one strong pad circling her vagina then running up to rub against her clitoris. Her back sprang off the mattress; white lights flashed behind her closed eyelids as the sensation bolted through her sex, over her womb and nailed her heart.

“That,” she panted. “That…”

His finger pressed harder, circled, toyed with the ache. “Have you ever had an orgasm, Amber?”

Oh God. Did he really just ask her that? Her mind grasped for answers, battling against the sensations as his fingers continued to play with her most private area.

“Yes,” she finally admitted, the honesty breathing out of her. No place to hide. “But never with…” She couldn’t finish.

His finger plunged into her inner canal. Hard, demanding. A small scream left her mouth, her hips thrusting up to meet the invasion. The pleasure.

“But, never what?” he demanded, his voice harsh, yet soft. “Finish it, Amber. Say it.”

She couldn’t think. The pressure built with each thrust of his finger. Then his lips closed on her, his tongue stroked over her pulsing clit and she was lost.

“Say it,” he growled against her, the vibrations echoing through her. She writhed uncontrollably under him.

“A man,” she finally panted. “Never with…anyone.” He nipped her inner thigh, the bite shooting a tantalizing mix of pain and pleasure into her core.

“You’re killing me, beauty.” Then he was gone, his heat removed, his fingers absent.

“No,” she cried out, reaching for him. Needing him to continue. She bolted upright, ready to follow only to freeze. His jeans dropped, and he straightened, beautifully naked.

She swallowed.

Gorgeous. Hard, naked flesh. Head to toe solid man. Warrior.

The energy hummed around them. The anticipation pulling tight as he knelt on the bed then edged closer. Sweat broke and trickled enticingly down her chest, between her breasts. She licked her lips and reached. Unable to stop. Not wanting to stop.

To hell with not knowing what to do. Instinct controlled her now, every action primal. Her hand lifted, then hovered over his hard erection. His breath ceased, every muscled tightened.

“Touch it,” he ordered.

She did. Her hand shook before it closed around the velvet skin. So hard underneath. She was in awe. Enthralled. She stroked it, slowly up, down. His breath hissed. His stomach clenched, his muscle rippling at the sudden movement. She stroked again, her motions dictated by nature. His cock was thick, long and unbelievably alluring to her. She wanted to lick it. Explore like he did her. She moved her lips toward the head, anxious to taste the rounded crown, the soft skin.

“Stop.” His hands grasped beneath her arms and threw her back to the bed. She bounced lightly before he landed hard and hot on top of her. “Another time. If you do that, I’ll come before I get in you, love.” His kiss branded her, burying the word she swore she heard.

No time to think. To ponder.

His hard cock brushed her inner thigh, smooth and probing against her tender flesh as it inched upward in time with the thrust of his tongue, the arch of his back. Her legs spread wider, opening to him. Begging for the next crest.

The soft head of his erection rubbed over her opening, teasing then retreating. She moaned and pulled on Damian’s shoulders, a silent plea for what was so close.

He broke the kiss, sweat dripping from his forehead, his breathing haggard, quick. “It’ll hurt some,” he stated, regret edging the words.

It didn’t matter. Pain was negligible at this point. “I’ll be fine,” she reassured him. “Right now I feel nothing but pleasure. I want this.”

“Amber,” he part growled, part moaned. “Too good for me.”

“Never,” she denied. “Just right for you.”

He cursed under his breath, a small exclamation of submission, then shifted to run his fingers through her pussy once again. A quick swipe, followed by a slow circle over her sensitive clit. God. Could anything feel better?

He groaned again. “You’re so wet. I need you. Now.”

She spread her legs wider. “Please.” She wasn’t beneath begging. She just needed what he offered. Her entire body ached for the final peak. That final sensation that he was withholding.

Finally, she felt his erection edge into her opening. He paused. The significance burned in his eyes and was communicated in the trembling of his shoulders and the measured intrusion that tested his restraint. She wanted more. Instinctively, she knew there was more.

“Just do it,” she insisted as she wrapped her legs around him. “I need more. I need all of you.”

He reared his head back then jerked his hips and surged completely into her. Her muscles flexed, her arms and legs clutched him to her, holding him tight as the pain flared. It hurt, burned, but he felt so good. He held her close, his entire body bound to her. “You’re incredible.” His low words barely penetrated the fog of her brain. “Hot, tight…so fucking incredible.”

It was incredible, full, intimate. She trembled, the feeling wracking through her as her muscles stretched to accept him. Amazing. God, it was so damn amazing.

Then he moved, shifted his hips and pulled out until just the tip remained within her. The feeling, the rioting sparks of sensation soothed away the pain. He thrust back into her, the sparks exploding into a full inferno of new stimulation. She gasped, her breath locked deep in her chest until he repeated the motion. The air returned on a throaty moan that sounded more animal than human.

Thinking stopped—all that mattered was the feeling. The mounting crests of excitement, of pleasure that grew with each thrust of his hips. Incredible wasn’t good enough. It was so much more.

The energy pummeled through her. His, hers, the stone. All meshing and blending until it pulsed in a demanding rhythm of desire.

Of belonging.

Damian thrust into her in time with the throb of the energy. His body matched the ancient beat, uniting them with the power that swirled around them. Stroking over her skin like a physical brush until every nerve was aching for release.

“Come, Amber,” Damian demanded, reaching between them to rub her clit. “Come now. With me.”

And she did. In a shattering burst of light and feeling, Amber soared along with her bird. Her muscles clenched, her back arched into Damian’s hard chest. Wave after wave of pleasure shattered over her.

A startled moan left her lips. He matched her groan and buried his head in her neck, then bound her to his chest in a tight grasp. He shuddered and came with her in a warm gush of energy. Power.

The golden light engulfed them. Binding them as it wrapped around their joined bodies in a blaze of pulsing heat that lifted her even higher, threw her over the edge and let her sail.

The light shattered, the energy parting then exploding outward in an atomic burst that pushed against her skin, electrified it until even the air excited her. Damian’s arms tightened around her as the energy tightened its hold and cocooned them in safety. In that instant, she felt her energy alter. The stone pulsed, clamped tightly between their bodies, one side touching each of them. Like a channel, it pulled a part of her through the stone while simultaneously feeding part of Damian into her.

The siphoning of energy, a true blending of power, of essence, blasted through her and sent her on another ride of pure, undiluted pleasure. He was truly, unquestionably hers.

Vaguely, she registered the quick flash of fire followed by pain that seared the back of her hand before her world darkened.

“Damian,” she whispered, her body wrapped around his as the golden light pulled her into unconsciousness.

Distantly, the angry roar of a beast registered through the fog of her brain. The feral tones broke through the energy, leaving a black streak of ice in its wake. The coldness pushed against the heat, driving frigid, hard rivets at the layer of warmth. Amber shivered, small bumps of trepidation stinging her heated flesh.

In warning or invitation?