Binding Ties The Sentinel Wars - Shannon K. Butcher Page 0,39
neck, drawing her attention to the spot where his ring connected to her necklace.
Her head fell back. She let out a small moan before clamping her lips shut over it. Pleasure? Pain? He couldn’t tell.
“Am I hurting you?”
She gave her head a little shake. Her golden hair slid across his chest, the strands clinging to his damp skin.
“What do you feel?” he asked.
Her voice was dreamy. “Warm. Full.”
The imagery that brought to mind held a dark eroticism that made his cock throb hard against her ass. There were so many ways he wanted to fill her, leaving her warm and sated.
Down, boy. Not going to happen. Not here. Not tonight. And not ever if you don’t get some fucking control over yourself.
“Open your eyes, kitten. Look at the post in the lake. Use that power filling you up to set it on fire.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Then let me show you.”
Her eyes were still closed. She was relaxed against him, accepting his hold on her almost as if she welcomed it. There was a dreamy look on her beautiful face that made him swell with pride. He’d been the one who put it there.
He knew she didn’t want him in her thoughts, but she wasn’t resisting him now. She was pliant in his arms, leaning on him, trusting him not to let her fall.
Once she knew what it was like to connect to him in the way they were meant to connect, she wouldn’t be afraid of it anymore. She’d see that they’d be stronger when united. Unstoppable.
With the same gentle care reserved for fragile, delicate things, he found the connection the luceria forged between them and eased into her thoughts. He moved slowly, backing off whenever he hit even the slightest resistance. With each passing second, he gained a little more ground, moving deeper into her mind.
He didn’t snoop or even let his curiosity gain the upper hand. He stuck to his original task and used their link to show her what she needed to do.
The instant his thought solidified inside hers, she freaked.
Every muscle in her body went stiff. She snarled, grabbed his head and flipped him over her. He slammed into the ground hard enough to rattle his bones. Before he knew what was happening, she had drawn his sword and held the tip of it to his throat.
“Don’t you ever fucking do that again.” Her voice was a rough growl of warning. Her pupils narrowed to slits, and her canines seemed to lengthen.
Joseph didn’t dare move. Not when she was on the edge of skewering him where he lay with that razor-sharp steel blade.
“Promise me!” she demanded.
He kept his voice nice and calm. No need to rile the wild animal in her. “No. That’s the way it’s supposed to be between us. One day you’ll see that. Until then, I’ll try to be as patient as you need me to be.”
She lunged to her feet and tossed the blade onto the ground. “Keep your distance, Theronai. We’re done.”
Lyka stalked away, making a beeline for her suite.
Joseph knew exactly what she was doing, and there wasn’t a thing he could do to stop her. He’d promised her she could leave, and now she would.
But she wasn’t going alone. She might not like it, but that was just too bad. She’d taken his luceria. She’d given him her vow. She was his now, and he had made a promise to protect her life with his own. He couldn’t do that if she was out there and he was in here.
Joseph picked up his cell phone as he went to pack his bag. The first man on his list answered.
“I need you to hold down the fort while I’m away,” said Joseph. “I’m going on a field trip.”
* * *
Eric suffered through a surge of panic. The two Slayer boys both started crying.
He’d made a mistake. He’d pushed Treszka too hard, and now those kids were going to pay the price.
“No,” he said, rushing to fix the damage he’d done. “Don’t hurt them.”
She aimed those white pupils at him, creeping him out down to his toes. “You will obey?”
For now he would. For now he would bide his time and figure out a way to get out of here without losing a single one of the young. “I will.”
“Then sit and eat.”
Eric sat and started eating. He didn’t taste a thing. His focus was too tightly on the boys who were crying quietly on the far side of the room.