Verika was struck speechless—literally.

Every muscle in her body locked up as Elijah cupped her face, his fingers sinking into her hair, and pulled her mouth to his. The feel of his lips was like satin as he gently kissed her.

It was a question. One she answered with a primal cry of “Oh, hell, yes” from deep within. She didn’t think. More out of instinct—and a heaping of desire—she closed her eyes and kissed him back.

Elijah groaned and deepened the kiss, guiding her over to the bed. Her back hit the mattress with surprising care as he reached beneath her to place his hand against her lower back to hold her weight. His fingers dove lower, slipping beneath the band of her pants to explore her smooth skin. She sighed with pleasure at the sensations his calloused hands sent skittering across her skin. She hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed to be touched like this again, to be desired.

He broke the kiss and they both gulped down a breath. Her lips tingled, and she could already tell they’d be swollen. But to hell with her appearance. She needed to be kissed like that again. It was like fire and lust and sugar and sunshine and every other damned good thing she could think of, all collected in the sinful softness of his lips. She could grow addicted to that, to him.

He stared into her eyes for a second; his pupils were dilated with lust. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest as she panted, their breaths mingling. She leaned forward, aiming to kiss him, but he pulled back with a devilish grin. She was about to growl in frustration when he lowered his head and began doing things to her neck; sucking, kissing, nipping. Every touch brought her closer to the edge. Before long, all semblance of common sense, and the inkling this was a terrible idea, went straight out the window.

By God, it was the best bad idea she’d ever been seduced by.

He still had one hand tangled in her hair, gripping and pulling at it slightly. It sent the warm glow that had burned beneath her belly to a full-out raging wildfire. Heat flushed her skin as his fingers came around the curve of her hip to the patch of strawberry curls crowning her most sensitive area. A moan escaped her as his hand slid lower, excruciatingly slow. He moved his palm back and forth over her curls, and she began bucking her hips slightly in rhythm to the movement.

She grabbed his hand and tried guiding it lower, but he held firm. She whimpered. “Please, Elijah,” she breathed.

He paused his sinful claiming of the fleshy territory of her neck to say in a husky voice, “Please what, Verika? What do you want me to do?”

“I want… I want you to touch me.”

“Where?” His hand slid lower, the pad of his thumb caressing the throbbing bundle of nerves. It sent a jolt through her, making her gasp. “Here?”

“Yes,” she breathed, raising her hips to meet his hand.

With sensual strokes, he moved his thumb back and forth along her sex. God, it felt so good. Every drop of tension drained out of her body. She was quickly becoming a pile of clay, more than willing to be sculpted and prodded by Elijah’s very capable hands.

She could feel herself growing slicker with each gyration of her hips. Her whole body throbbed with need, begging for release.

Which Elijah apparently had plans to delay for as long as possible. He leaned in, until his lips were grazing her ear. “Tell me how you like to be touched.”

Her chest rose and fell with each labored breath. “I want you…” She swallowed. Her throat was dry, making her voice raspy. “… to go inside me.”

“Like this?”

His fingers slid all the way inside her. She cried out and arched her back. He slid his hand out, now slicked with her honey, and slid it back in again. And again, and again, and again, building up a rhythm. She gripped the sheets, groaning as the rising flames scorched her every fiber. She was losing her mind.

He kissed her neck, which was now slicked in a sheen of hot sweat. “Come for me,” he said.

The command was enough to drive her over the edge. She came with a loud moan of release, arching her back and bucking her hips until the sparkling tendrils of pleasure had died away. She sagged against the bed, feeling delirious as her heart raced.

Elijah’s hand remained on her sex, stroking it soothingly. “How do you feel?”

Thinking after that required some effort. She slogged through her muddy thoughts until she found the right word. “Free.”

He pondered this. “Not bad. But I think we can do better.” He began sliding her pants down.

She nearly bolted upright, but he caught her by her shoulder. “What are you doing?” she asked as he gripped her panties with his other hand.

He grinned at her as he slowly pushed her back down onto the mattress. “Seeing if you taste as sweet as you smell.” Before she could protest, he’d pulled her panties down enough to expose her sex, right before he planted his mouth over it.

She’d barely gotten in a breath before he began to suck.

She shattered, or at least, that’s what it felt like. God, his mouth was a weapon that, if used in the right spots, could bring about mass destruction. He pried her legs apart as she moaned and he buried his face in her. His tongue licked her deep, searching and roving along her wet walls. Earlier had been scorching, but this was intense. All she could do was gasp and dig her fingernails into the mattress as he had her, taking her with a possessive growl low in his throat that made her shiver with desire.

She wanted this man, wanted to feel him sucking on her breasts and experience what it would feel like to have him inside of her.

The ferocity with which he made her come…

Verika nearly screamed as the second orgasm slammed into her. She closed her eyes and bit down on her lips, catching the cry of release in her mouth and swallowing it whole as she glided off the high. With a long sigh, she fell back against the bed, utterly spent. She couldn’t move. Her entire body felt numb as endorphins coursed through her veins, making her lids feel heavy with sleep. She opened her eyes just long enough to see Elijah leaning over her, licking her nectar off his mouth with a grin.

She couldn’t help herself. “How did I taste?” she rasped.

He bent over and kissed her. The stickiness of herself clung to her lips. “Just as I imagined. Sweet.” He reached up and tenderly cupped her cheek. “And perfect.”

Her heart sputtered, but it felt different from earlier. God, she wanted to kiss him. What she’d had of him, what he’d done to her… it hadn’t been nearly enough. Maybe it never would be.

As her common sense began to take over, her fear also returned. “Elijah,” she said carefully, reaching up to gently pry his hand from her face, “maybe we should—” Her voice abruptly cut off as she beheld the symbol seemingly carved into the skin along the back of her hand.

The lines were delicate and intricately woven in indigo ink, which seemed to shimmer faintly in the light. It first struck her as beautiful and odd, since she didn’t know where it had come from.

Elijah’s breath caught. His eyes were wide as he stared at her hand, features frozen in shock.

That’s when she knew what the symbol was.

It was a claim—between destined mates.

Elijah had just marked her.