Bound Guardian Angel (55 page)

“Yes, I do seem to”—she drew in her breath
as he gently thrust into her—“oh, God, yes. I do remember you
telling me that.”

He’d never done this. Never engaged in
sexual flirtation, dirty talk, or anything of the sort. But with
Cordray, it felt as natural as breathing. Perhaps because verbal
sparring seemed a way of life between them. Or maybe because she
was his mate and everything would come easily between them now that
he’d gotten out of his own way long enough to finally embrace
her.

Her legs wrapped around his waist again. He
loved how good they felt encircling him, locking him against her
body.

“Remember how you once told me I couldn’t
boss your dick?” she said.

He grinned and pumped into her again. This
was nice. Easy. So unlike anything he’d ever associated with
her.

He lowered his mouth to her neck and suckled
the skin right above her vein. “Mm-hm. I remember.” He’d just been
locked inside King Bain’s dungeon, and she’d paid him a visit to
inform him she would be his boss after he was released, to which he
told her she couldn’t boss his dick.

Funny how that seemed like a lifetime ago
even though it had only been a few weeks. So much had changed since
then. He’d mated her, for God’s sake.

She sighed and ran one hand over the back of
his head as her other slid down his spine to his ass. Then she let
out a short, quiet laugh. “Looks like I can boss your dick, after
all.”

He nibbled his way up her neck, along her
jaw, to her chin. “You were born to, baby.” Then he took her bottom
lip between his teeth.

She moaned, her eyes drifting shut.

Releasing her lip, he pushed up on his arms
and undulated his body over hers.

“You might be able to boss my dick, honey,
but this”—He thrust into her. Hard. Making her cry out and dig her
fingernails into his back—“This is mine. I own it. It belongs to me
now.” He pressed his pubic bone against her clit and ground his
hips in a circle. He’d had enough experience in his mistress’s
dungeons to know how to please a female, and he would take great
pleasure showing Cordray all that he’d learned. “I dare you to deny
it.”

She shook her head, breathing harder as he
continued thrusting into her.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he said.

She nodded. “I’m yours.”

“Tell me I own you.”

Her legs squeezed his waist as she shuddered
and bit back a throaty groan. “You own me.”

“Your body is mine.”

“My body is yours.”

“And don’t you ever forget it.” He growled,
and his hips took on a life of their own.

His arms strained as his own body fell into
autopilot, claiming hers again, driving into her slick heat. He’d
never experienced such raw need. The glorious intensity of making
love. Truly making love. The complete submission of his inner beast
so that all that remained was him. Trace. Only him. Stripped to his
soul.

He crushed her mouth with his. Opened,
tasted, swept his tongue over hers as she locked her forearm behind
his neck and held him against her. She met him more than halfway,
lifting her head off the floor, bruising his lips with her own,
nipping his bottom lip, nibbling, biting, orally attacking him. And
Jesus! He loved it. She was his kind of female. Strong, lusty,
fearless, taking what she wanted and demanding more.

Breathless. She kissed him breathless, and
his body responded, speeding into a higher gear he hadn’t known he
possessed.

Something cracked. Something wooden. Then it
sounded like the legs of the table at the end of hall snapped in
half. Glass shattered. Something heavy bounced down the stairs. But
he was too enthralled with her body, her lips, her precious moans.
Whatever destruction was happening elsewhere could wait. He was
climbing toward orgasm number two, and nothing would stop his
ascent.

She cried into his mouth, and he swallowed
the sound as her entire body fell into violent tremors.

“Fuck!” He disengaged from her mouth, his
fangs extending.

The beat of her heart echoed inside his
mind. He could hear her blood surging in her veins, could smell its
lustrous scent. His stomach clenched. His cock throbbed.

And God, he needed every part of her inside
every part of him.

With a feral growl, he surged against her
and sank his fangs into the side of her neck, latching on, taking
heavy drags of her life-giving blood.

Mine, this is mine.

God help anyone who spilled a drop of her
precious blood from this day forward, because they would have to
answer to him. As her mate, he would protect her. It was his
instinctual duty to take care of her. He would destroy anyone who
tried to hurt her.

As his body let loose and spilled inside
hers once more, he growled and sank his fangs even deeper as he
rolled to his back, taking her with him. His arms shot around her
and held her close, his hands buried in her hair as he took his
fill and thrust his hips off the floor into her.

The venom euphoria sent her into another
orgasm, and she murmured something he couldn’t decipher as she
trembled against him, her core pulsing hard on his cock.

He released her vein and dropped his head to
the floor. His cock continued to empty inside her.

Once her euphoria wore off, she weakly
crawled up his body, finding his mouth with hers, breathing him in,
tasting her blood on his lips, connecting them in a complete
circle.

“More, please more.” She breathed the words
against his mouth.

He had given her all he had. “You’ve taken
it all from me.”

She grinned and settled in a drained,
panting heap against him, head on his chest. “Wimp.” She chuckled
weakly.

“Wimp?” Trace was too depleted to do much
more than lazily slap her ass, but even that came off as more of a
love tap than a slap.

She peeled her cheek off his slick skin and
kissed his sternum. “Yes. Wimp.” She grinned up at him. “I’m going
to have to do something about this lack of stamina if you’re going
to satisfy the likes of me, Trace.”

“Lack of stamina, my ass.” He felt like he’d
just faced a typhoon . . . and won.

“If the shoe fits.”

Snorting derisively, he arched one eyebrow
at her. “If you think you can build my stamina,
Coco
, then
by all means, give it your best shot.”

She mock-glared at him. “You are not allowed
to call me Coco.”

He grinned and glanced up at the ceiling.
“Wicked witch?”

“Only in the bedroom.”

That made him laugh. “Sweetheart?”

“Uh, hell no. As in, I’ll withhold any and
all sexual pleasure if you ever call me that.”

This was nice. Bantering with her in the
afterglow.

“Well, I give then. What am I allowed to
call you?”

She settled her chin on his chest. “You can
start with Cordray.”

“Well, duh.” He rolled his eyes at her as he
absently began playing with her hair.

She caressed his chest with the tip of her
index finger. “Okay then, how about Master of the Universe. That
would be nice.”

“Oh, yes. That’s much better. Ego much?” He
grinned at her. “Try again.”

She smiled, and he liked the way it made her
whole face light up. “Her Majesty?”

He shook his head and wrinkled his nose.
“Ew.”

“Fine. What do you suggest?”

He took a deep, cleansing breath. His body
felt incredible. As good as it had after Micah worked him over,
maybe better. No . . . not better. Just different.
But good different. He lazily combed his fingers through her hair,
still in awe of how she was able to send his power into the shadows
like a punished child. But then, she was his mate. Of course she
would hold sway over his inner demon. He grinned and twirled a
strand of her hair around his fingers. “How about
She Who Tamed
the Beast
?”

A sparkle lit in her eyes, and one eyebrow
arched in amusement. “Beast master?”

He rolled the name around in his mind.
“Yeah, beast master.” He liked it. Then he chuckled. “Can I call
you BM for short?”

She shook her head in exasperation. “You
never turn off, do you?”

“Nope.” He lifted his eyebrows
questioningly. “So, can I?”

“That would be a no,” she said, playfully
slapping him and sitting up.

He hated the wash of cold air on his cock as
she slid off of him. “Oh come on. Why not?” He pushed himself off
the floor, which was easier said than done with muscles as pliant
as raw cookie dough.

Cordray’s gaze ranged up and down the hall
then homed back in on him. “Because the last thing I want to be
associated with is a bodily function that involves shit,
capiche
?” She stood. “Did you do this?” She gestured at the
broken glass, smashed ceramic bowls, broken picture frames, and
what was once a table but now resembled kindling.

He took in the disaster area. “Oops.” One
corner of his mouth slid upward as he drank in the splendor of her
naked body. “I might have gotten a little carried away. But it’s
not entirely my fault.” His eyes met hers again as she stood over
him.

One of her eyebrows arched. “Oh? Are you
saying that I’m somehow to blame for all this?” She gestured toward
the wreckage, but he could tell she was fighting back a smile.

He sat forward and slowly ran his palms up
her thighs. The muscles quivered against his touch, and she let out
a shaky exhale as she slowly lowered back down to straddle his
legs.

“If you weren’t so fucking incredible, I
might not have lost control of my power.” He licked his lips.
“Besides, I’ve never experienced anything like this before, so
you’re gonna have to cut me some slack.”

“When have I ever cut you slack?” Her
fingers skimmed up the back of his arms then lightly gripped his
shoulders.

“Good point.” He linked his fingers at the
small of her back and pulled her forward, locking her against him.
“So . . . what are we going to do about this?” He
nodded over her shoulder at the mess.

They sat in silence for several seconds,
their bodies drifting closer to one another, the vortex of desire
beginning to spin again. Then Cordray let out an exaggerated,
arousal-laced sigh. “If you ask me, it looks like we need to work
on keeping your beast under control during extreme bouts of
pleasure, and I think we need to work on it
a lot
.”

His cock perked up at the suggestive glint
in her eye. “I do like how you think, beast master.”

She pulled away and pushed to her feet,
lacing her fingers around his as he joined her. “No better time
than the present?” She bobbed her head toward her bedroom.

He nodded then followed close behind as she
led him to her room. “Only if you’re not tired,” he teased.

She stopped in the doorway and turned toward
him, her face flushed as she shook her head. “Trace, I’ve waited
for you a lot longer than you’ve waited for me. I can assure you,
I’m not tired.” She swallowed thickly as if forcing back her
emotions. “And even if I were, I can sleep later. After I know for
sure this isn’t a dream I’m going to wake up from.”

He stepped closer and cradled her cheek. “I
can assure you, baby, this is no dream. You’re my mate, and I think
I’d like to stay buried inside you for at least a week.
So . . . yeah. Not a dream. Not even close.”

Her gaze fixed on his, and she took a deep
breath and closed her eyes. “This is going to take some getting
used to.”

“What is?” He pulled her toward him.

She drew in a shaky breath, smiling and
opening her eyes as she did. “All of it. You. This.” She dragged
her hands down his chest. “Seeing you as a friend and not a foe.”
She blinked her gaze to his.

He got what she was saying. He needed time
to adjust, too. Treating Cordray like discarded rotten fruit had
become a way of life.

He nodded toward the bed. “How about we
spend the next couple of hours practicing being extra nice to each
other then?”

She followed his gaze. “You won’t break my
bed?”

“I’ve got to learn sometime.”

One corner of her mouth quirked upward as
her lashes fell seductively. “Practice makes perfect?”

A lust-filled rumble broke inside his
throat. “Hell yeah, and I believe in lots of practice.”

She bit her bottom lip as he took her hand
once more, tugged her into the bedroom, and closed the door.

Chapter 32

Digon sat alone in his study, staring at Micah
Black’s application, his fingers laced together under his chin.
Rule had intercepted Micah’s interest form personally and brought
it to him. Now he had a decision to make.

He stood and paced toward the window facing
the eastern horizon. A new day had come. A new era was dawning. One
in which he would reveal his true identity. He couldn’t remain
hidden any longer. Micah and Cordray were getting too close. Not
that he couldn’t hold them off. He could. He just didn’t want to
anymore.

He’d always said he would know when the time
was right to reveal himself. And the time was now. For so long, he
had remained hidden behind his alter ego, but he could no longer
stay silent. Too much was at stake, such as the survival of his
race.

He closed his eyes, acknowledging the cold
anguish in his heart.

If only he could go back in time, he never
would have let the situation escalate the way it had. All that had
happened in the past thirty-five hundred years was his fault. He
alone had held the key to ensuring that events wouldn’t unfold as
they had, but he’d been too ill-equipped, too weak to do what had
to be done. Of course, doing so would have resulted in civil war,
but at least he would still have his daughter.

Now he would make those who had taken her
from him pay. He would set right all he had allowed to go askew so
long ago.

And Micah and Cordray would help him. He
would make them understand, and they would have no choice but to
join him. And with them would come King Bain’s royal alliance. He
would need that connection to make things right.