The Warrior Vampire (26 page)

“Gods, Naya.” Why was she fighting so hard what he'd known from the moment he laid eyes on her? “We
are
made for each other.” He kissed her cheek. Her temple. The corner of her luscious mouth. “Allow yourself to feel the truth of it for once.”

“I can't.” She trembled in his embrace. “I don't want to love you, Ronan.”

Every ounce of her fear and doubt weighed down their tether. Naya had lived in a tiny bubble for so long. Everything that she was had become enmeshed with her pod. If she could just learn to let go. “Loving someone doesn't mean that you give up any part of who you are.” The backs of his fingers brushed her ribs on their journey to the hem of her shirt. They found bare flesh and Naya's lids became hooded, her dark eyes shining with unspoken emotion. “It's about sharing who you are with the only other soul on the face of the earth who understands you and accepts you without condition. Love is a gift, Naya. One that makes you better because of it. It's not a curse that weakens you or tears you down.”

A tear trickled down her cheek and Ronan released his grip on her wrists to swipe it away. His other palm cupped her bare torso and he reveled in her comforting heat. “I felt myself slip away that first night.” She swallowed against the emotion that cracked in her voice and looked away. “I'm losing myself to you, Ronan.”

“No one has lost anything, Naya. We've simply
found
one another.”

With her fingers still wound in his hair, Naya pulled him close. Her mouth met his, soft, warm, inviting. His grip on her tightened as Ronan pinned her against the door with his body. There was nothing rushed or frenzied about this moment. It was different.
She
was different. The tether that connected them no longer tugged at his soul as though resisting, but rather, it enveloped him.

“Paul might have thought he could give you to his son, but Joaquin will never have you,” Ronan murmured as he rained kisses down her throat. The sound of her heart racing in her chest sparked his bloodlust and he nuzzled the throbbing vein at her throat. “And though Siobhan has my troth, I will never give myself to her again.”

Naya's head fell back on her shoulders and he scraped his fangs along her skin, resisting the urge to pierce her flesh. A shiver traveled the length of her body and her response caused a delicious ache to settle in his sac. Gods, he needed release. Needed to bury his cock in Naya's wet warmth and solidify their bond once and for all.

“I am for no other female but you. This is my vow to you, Naya,” Ronan said. “Give me yours. Tell me that you are for me and me alone.”

“Yes,” Naya gasped as she pressed him tight to her throat. “No other male but you will ever have me, Ronan. I'm yours.”

His fangs punctured her skin and Naya's low moan coupled with her warm breath in his ear tipped Ronan over the ledge of his control. He'd burn himself to a bloody fucking crisp right here and now, because he refused to withhold himself from his mate for another gods-damned second.

No more stolen moments. No mere glimpses of her naked body before someone or something intervened. And no more wanting—
needing
—her and knowing that he would end up unfulfilled.
Fuck Siobhan and her troths.
The thing seething inside of him grew more powerful by the hour. Either way, he was dead. Ronan refused to go into whatever afterlife awaited him before he held his mate in his arms and made love to her. Bound himself to her. Forever.

Ronan kissed Naya deeply, his tongue sliding against hers. She tasted like heaven, sweet, fresh spring rain. She kept her legs wrapped around his waist and she released her grip on his shoulders only long enough for him to strip off her shirt.

“We can't, Ronan.” He kissed a path across her collarbone and over the swell of one tantalizing breast. “Your troth.” He jerked the cup of her bra aside and captured her hardened nipple in his mouth. Naya gasped, her nails biting into his shoulder. “We have to wait.”

He pulled away, scraping his teeth over her sensitive flesh as he went. Her answering moan vibrated down his shaft and he reached behind her, his fingers fumbling in his haste to rid her of her bra. The scent of her arousal bloomed around them, a rich, exotic perfume that dizzied him. “Let the blood burn through my veins. I will not wait another gods-damned second to have you.”

 

CHAPTER

22

Ronan dragged the straps of Naya's bra down over her shoulders and she shucked the garment as though it were on fire. She reached for his T-shirt, clawing at the soft cotton in her effort to shove it up his chest and get it off him. She could no longer deny this bond between them, the connection that burned with the heat of a solar flare whenever she was within touching distance. His words. The vow he'd made. The tether that had once been so tight and was now an open doorway between them convinced her once and for all that it was time to stop resisting what her heart had been telling her all along. The vampire had been made for
her.

She could understand why Siobhan had tricked Ronan into promising his body to her. He was magnificent. What female—dhampir or otherwise—wouldn't do anything in her power to keep him? Naya's palms traced the topography of defined muscles, over the swell of his pecs, down the ridges of his abs that twitched and tightened in response to her touch. He held her as though she weighed nothing, and Naya had never been more painfully aware that he would never, ever let anything harm her. Even himself. Ronan would die—would let Luz run her dagger through his heart—before he'd let the darkness inside of him win.

“I want you to take off all of your clothes and lie down on the bed, Ronan.”

A wide grin lit up his face, showcasing the dual points of his fangs. Naya suppressed a pleasant shiver.
Sex personified.
She couldn't let him shake her focus. At least, not yet. “Gods, how I love a commanding female.” She slid down from his embrace and Ronan's brow furrowed. Silver rimmed his irises, so beautiful. “Commanding is one thing—cruel is another.” He lunged for her, but Naya skirted his reach.

“Do as I say,” she instructed.

He unfastened his pants and slowly lowered the zipper. “Going to cuff me to the bed again?”

Dear gods.
The mental image sent a pleasant rush of sensation that settled between her thighs. “Would you let me?” Her gaze was riveted to his body as she backed slowly away toward the dresser at the far side of the room. She memorized every bulge, every groove, from the cut of his torso to the taper of his lean waist and the trail of hair that plunged below his waistband. He shucked his pants with a wide sweep of his arms and Naya sucked in a sharp breath as she took in the sight of his erection jutting from between his thighs.

Fan-freaking-
tastic.

He was a masterpiece, cut from marble. Her gaze drank him in and she swore he grew even harder from her unabashed attention. “I'm at a disadvantage here. Quid pro quo, don't you think?”

He wanted to watch her undress? Naya wasn't exactly self-conscious. The Bororo might have mandated their pairings, but they didn't force their people into celibacy. Still, to be held in place by his intense silver gaze while she undressed? Naya would probably burst into flames before he managed to put even a finger on her.

“Quid pro quo,” she agreed. If her plan was going to work, she needed an arsenal of magic at her disposal. She didn't think that a blood troth was something easily thwarted.

Ronan stretched out on the bed and tucked his arms behind his head.
So confident. So damned smug.
Naya didn't think she'd last the time it would take to call on her magic. The sight of him, hard and ready for her—gods, she wanted to ravage him.

Naya took a deep breath. Held it in her lungs. She'd never harnessed sex magic before. Hell, up until Ronan's appearance in her life she'd sort of thought it was a myth. Blood magic carried more weight, but since it was sex that Siobhan wanted from Ronan, it stood to reason that the best way to skirt the troth was to fight fire with fire.

Naya's breath left her lungs in a rush. Ronan propped himself up on an elbow as he settled down on the bed, his expression etched with concern. “Naya?”

“I'm okay.” Power tingled across her nerve endings, a pleasant warmth that relaxed her too-tight muscles. “Give me a second.”

He watched her with an intensity that sent a tremor from the top of her head to the tips of her fingers and toes. His irises were solid silver now, glowing in the low light of the bedroom. Her breasts became heavy, the nipples puckered tight under the heat of his gaze, and Naya kept her attention focused on Ronan as she eased her leggings down over her thighs.

Ronan drank her in as though it took a sheer act of will to stay put. Urgency stretched between them through the tether. Would this desperate want ever go away?

“Slower.” His voice was a rough command that caused her sex to clench around nothing. She wanted him inside of her so badly. He was unlike any other male she'd ever known. Strong, protective, fierce. Commanding. And the fire blazing in his eyes as he looked at her was enough to unravel her.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his fist clenching and unclenching at his side. Propped up on the pillow, sprawled out on the bed, his body was on display for her to enjoy as well, and the proud length of his erection was enough to cause a deep hollow ache to radiate from low in her belly outward.

She eased the leggings over her hips, down the length of her thighs. She bent at the waist and removed them from around her ankles before she straightened, clad in nothing more than her underwear.

“Put your palms flat on your stomach.” Naya felt Ronan's words in every nerve of her body, a pleasant vibration like she was a tuning fork and he the perfect note. She did as he told her, elbows out, one hand below her breasts and the other over her belly button, her palms horizontal. “Slide them down, over your hip bones to your thighs.”

Her lids fluttered, her body hyperaware of her own touch as Naya slid her hands down. “Keep your eyes on me,” Ronan instructed. “Now, slide your fingers around to the insides of your thighs; trace your underwear all the way back up to your hips.”

Her fingertips feathered over the lace, tracing the fabric at the juncture of her thighs. Naya sucked in a breath, her sex clenching at the light contact. Power bloomed inside of her, the intense rush causing her to sway on her feet. A rose glow rose to the surface of her skin, tingling like static electricity. She followed the hem around to her outer thigh and back up to the waistline, skimming the lace just below her belly button.

Ronan shifted on the bed and his erection bobbed as though straining toward her. Naya swallowed and licked her lips as she wondered what it would feel like to have his hard length glide between them.

“Cup your breasts.”

The words were rushed, forced through his lips on a sharp exhalation of breath. Naya couldn't help the moan that accompanied the tingle of sensation that traveled to the tips of her hardened nipples when she took herself in her palms. Her eyes were riveted to Ronan and his hips surged, thrusting into air. Without being told, she took her nipples between her fingers and rolled the hardened peaks, her head falling back on her shoulders as she let out a deep sigh.

“Fucking hell, Naya.” Ronan pressed his head into the pillow, his fists clenched so tightly at his sides that the veins stood out in relief, cording his arms. “Are you wet?”

She ventured down past the waistline of her underwear, desire raging in her body with the pounding force of thunder. “Yes,” she moaned as her fingertips met her wet core. “Gods, yes.”

“Get on the bed.”

Each encounter with Ronan was better than the last. More erotic. A thousand times more intense. Sensual. She climbed up on the bed and went to her knees beside him. The words pushed past her lips in a thick, husky murmur when she said, “This might feel a little strange, but just bear with me, all right?”

“An adventurous female,” Ronan replied with a cocky grin.

Magic pooled in her gut, gathering in the center of her body. It pulsed and grew within her. Thriving. Contrary to Luz's opinion, magic once manifested was no different from any other living thing. The trick was controlling it and manipulating it to her will. Giving it purpose.

She climbed up on the bed and straddled Ronan. His erection pressed against her barely clad pussy and Naya worried she'd come before she even had a chance to put this magic to the test. Her head swam in a giddy haze and a lazy smile tugged at her lips. If every encounter with Ronan produced such an intoxicating side effect, she'd have to master her control or quickly become a hopeless addict. Already she felt her grip begin to slip.

Keep it together, Naya. Business before pleasure.

She swallowed down a giggle and laid her palms on Ronan's chest. His eyes grew wide and he hissed in a breath, his back arching off the bed as his head pressed into the pillow. “Gods, Naya,” he panted. “That feels amazing.”

Power crested over her and Naya let her head fall back. Focus was becoming harder—another giggle—by the second when the pleasure coursing through her was so
intense
. Clarity scratched at the back of her lust-addled mind, reminding her that if she didn't do something to neutralize Ronan's troth to the dhampir his pleasure would be short-lived when the blood boiled in his veins.

Ronan's body went rigid beneath her as he reached up to take her hips in his hands. His grip was firm and he pressed her down on his cock and then thrust up to meet her. “You're so wet,” he said through shallow pants. “So hot, it's like fire. Get rid of these”—he tugged at the fabric—“now, before I rip them off.”

Yes. Oh, gods yes.