Page 38 of Justice

“Is that what you think? That I’m angry you put my people in danger?” He took a step closer, then another.

“Isn’t it, though? I wouldn’t blame you for it.” He stepped so close I could smell his aftershave, almost taste the citrus of his soap that hung in the air.

He crouched down, so he was eye level with me. “No one blames you. Fuck. If anything, they all thank you. You not only saved me – twice, but you saved them too.”

“But, you’re angry.” That I could sense, I could feel the undercurrent of it humming through our bond.

“You better fucking believe I’m angry,” he roared before he inhaled deep and let it out slowly. “You were in danger, real fucking danger, and I couldn’t save you. I unleashed the best of my people, swung blades with the rest of them, but it wasn’t enough to save you. But you. . .” His eyes closed, his long dark lashes fanned his cheek as he spoke the rest of his words, “You saved me again. You saved me twice. You risked yourself to save us all.”

“I -” I tried to speak, but he shook his head no, silencing my words.

“Then, you just collapsed and – and I almost lost you.” His eyes opened, the yellow so intense I tried not to squirm.

“I was fine,” I offered.

“But how the fuck was I to know that when you lay limp right in front of me, collapsing to the sand then nothing? Nothing for two fucking days.” He swallowed, the movement drawing my eyes to his mouth. “I was so fucking scared. I was so fucking scared, and I know I had no right to be. That I don’t own you. That I’ve treated you awful, and I’m spiteful. I’m so fucking spiteful all the time, but I don’t want you dead. I don’t want to see you injured or hurt. I just -”

I leaned forward, plastering my lips to his, cutting off his words. At first, he froze, his body stiffened under the assault of my lips, and for a second, I thought I misjudged the situation, misjudged his caring for something more, and I panicked. I began to lean back when his hands fell to my thighs and squeezed, his lips chasing forward, capturing mine.

His lips on mine were rough, desperate, wild – just like the man himself, and if I did nothing else in my life, this kiss would be my greatest accomplishment. I felt the power down to my soul, felt the vibration of our invisible bond thrum with its approval, and it was freeing. The tight hold on my body suddenly felt relaxed for the first time in days, and all it took was his touch.

His lips left my mouth, frantically searching for skin, running across my cheeks, my neck, my collarbones as his hands traveled up my thighs. He was kneeling between my legs, his warm body radiating heat, making me squirm against his touch. His fingers danced up my dress. Each time his fingertip touched my skin, fire pulsed in its wake. He nuzzled the strap of my dress before he took it in his teeth, pulling it down until my breast popped free. A growl broke free from his throat before his teeth sought my skin, biting and nipping at my breasts.

Hot fingers danced along my panties, the material a frustrating barrier between us. I wanted to feel him against my skin, feel the fire of his touch ignited inside me. I wanted to burn, scorched from the inside out. I wanted to breathe him in, live him, send my pleasures along our bond until all he could think of was me.

Was this normal? Was wanting your mate so bad you could hardly breathe common? God, I hoped so. Because even if I wanted to, at this moment, I doubt I could turn away from his touch.

He released my skin from his teeth and leaned down, his tongue finding the inside of my knee and running the length of it. “In our culture, it’s customary to cover your body’s scent with that of your mate.” His voice was hoarse as he spoke, “It shows ownership, belonging. It’s a sign of respect.”

I swallowed hard. “Do you want to be covered in my scent, Justice?”

He growled against my thigh before a sharp lick of pain hit me. His teeth sharp as he teased against my skin, the sting doing nothing to ebb how turned on I was. “I didn’t pick you, Libby. You were not the one I would have picked for myself, but the fates gave me no choice.”

My heart ached at his confession. “Oh.”

“But, I still would wear your scent with honor.” His mouth came down on my panties, his tongue running the line of my slit through the material before he latched onto my clit and sucked. My hips arched off the chair, and I struggled to breathe, the unexpected jolt of pleasure nearly more than I could handle. I brought my hand to the soft fuzz of his hair, cut short against his scalp, and he froze before slowly pulling back.

“You’ve already proven you can control me. In this, I don’t need your control.” He hesitated. His yellow eyes looked contemplative as he found his words. “Keep your fingers on the chair; I’ll do the touching.”

“But that’s so -” I tried to argue, but he cut me off.

“Impersonal? I’ve spent sixty years being controlled by a female, Libby. Sixty years. I need time. Right now, though, I just want to explore you. Smell you.”

He had a point, and if he needed time, I would give it to him. I had three other mates who would let me touch them all I wanted, and I knew if he stuck around, eventually, he would let me too. I lowered my hands to the chair, curling my fingers around the wooden edge of the seat, and he hummed his approval at my obedience. His eyes never left mine as he reached under my dress and tore my panties away before bringing them to his nose and inhaling.

I should’ve been mortified at such a bold act on his part, but the way his eyes glowed with the action, the lustful sound he made as his fist tightened around the palmful of material snuffed my mortification before it could fully form. With a rough growl, he was at my core, his tongue sliding between my lips as he lapped at my juices. Each stroke hit me like electricity. Nerves I never knew existed came alive under his touch.

My body jolted and shook; my breath came fast, and I wanted to keep control of myself; I honestly did, but the more he did with his tongue, the greater the challenge became. I was panting. Withering. Begging. So close to the edge of ecstasy, but he refused to let me cross it.

“Tell me, Mate. Do your vampires make your body sing like this?” Yes. No. Fuck, I couldn’t tell you. My mind was past the point of coherency. “Do they make you scream their names? Have you begging to come?”

I doubted he wanted a real answer, and I couldn’t give him one. Not when his tongue found my clit again, and he began to swirl circles slowly around it before his lips latched on and sucked gently. A low whine left my lips, a sound that was definitely more animal than human, and he only hummed his approval, the vibration shooting sparks through all my nerves.

My fingers gripped into the wood, my hands so tight I was sure my knuckles would be white. His fingers worked their way up my body under my dress; one warm palm teasing my curves while the other held tightly to my leg, keeping my thighs open to accommodate his assault. What started out as gentle and alluring turned rough and enthralling. His attention was all-encompassing. His movements a calculated dance.

And though I’d fallen apart in my other mates’ hands multiple times, this time was different. Justice’s touch was made for me. We were one. His skin was meant to glide against mine; his hands were meant to explore. He knew my body like his own, and though we had never been together, it was clear that the fates knew best, especially when his palm slid down between my breasts, over my stomach and pelvic bone, before gliding over my thigh.

“Don’t get the wrong idea about this, Libby,” he spoke against my clit, and I swear my vision started to grow spotty. “I want to wear your scent like it’s a part of my skin, but I don’t fully trust you. I don’t trust anyone right now.”