He shifted away from her, standing with a fluid motion that sent a thrill right down her spine. He was fully clothed. She blinked and dragged her pants and underwear into her lap, wishing she could just stand up fully clothed instead of sitting on her sleeping bag feeling his seed trickling down her thigh. There wasn’t even a bathroom to clean up. He seemed to be implying she was some kind of a slut—having just had wild sex with a total stranger probably put her in that category, but she was going to shoot him and bury his body right there in that weird building.
“I see you do not intend to be reasonable, Trixie. I told you we would talk when I returned. I would prefer to stay with you and clear these matters up, but my brethren call to me and it is dangerous here. For you. For Aleksei’s lifemate and now for me and Aleksei.”
“I didn’t bring the others here,” she snapped. She used her panties to clean off her thighs, trying not to die of shame and embarrassment.
He waved his hand and not only was she perfectly clean but she was fully clothed. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized just how powerful Fane really was. She had no idea how he’d talked her into having sex with him. She just knew that looking at him was a terrible mistake, because she wanted to have sex with him again.
He stepped close, took her hand and drew her up, his arm locking around her back, drawing her into him. She wouldn’t have let him—at least she lied to herself, telling herself that—but he had to hold her up. Her legs felt weak around him, her knees giving out.
“Trixie.” He murmured her name softly. “Why are you ashamed of being with me? I do not understand. I know you felt the same pleasure I did. Explain this to me. Please.”
Was there hurt in his voice? In his beautiful eyes? She was hurt. Shocked at herself and angry with herself. She was old enough to know better. With any other man she might have just taken the time as an unexpected gift, but she knew she would forever feel this man inside of her. That wasn’t his fault. That was hers.
“In spite of my age, I’m not exactly experienced. I don’t have sexual exploits and it’s a little embarrassing to have sex with a man I don’t know.” There. That was all he was going to get.
She wasn’t going to tell him he somehow had wormed his way inside of her and she would never be able to get him out. Or that she was ashamed because at fifteen she’d had a baby because she’d let a boy touch her nine months earlier. Now she’d done the same thing all over again. There had been no dates. No courting. No sweet words. Just sex. It didn’t matter that the sex was amazing, it was still her acting like an idiot. She hadn’t learned one single lesson in her sixty-odd years of being on earth.
“What is this thing you called me? This ‘hound dog.’ It did not sound like a compliment.”
She moved to put a little space between them. His arm locked around her back and his other hand came up to her hair. She had a lot of hair, and no man had put his hands in her hair, ever. The sensation sent a small answering spasm deep in her core. This man was lethal to her. She brought both hands up to push against his chest. The moment her palms encountered his muscles beneath his thin shirt, heat hit her. He was like a drug, rushing through her veins and spreading through her body with incredible heat. She wanted him all over again.
“I don’t understand any of this,” she whispered, wanting to be alone so she could have a good cry. In private. She wasn’t sharing that. She never cried in front of anyone.
He put a little more pressure on her so that her body was tight against his. Very tight. She sighed and gave in, relaxing against him, allowing him to hold her. She recognized that he was trying to comfort her.
“I know for you it is difficult. I will explain everything when I return. I will not be gone long. Please do me the courtesy of staying within the gates. I am aware you have some kind of gift that allows you to walk through my safeguards, but it is not safe. I will return as fast as possible, and we will clear things up between us.”
She bit her lip, allowing herself a moment to slide her arms around him and just hold him. Feel him. All that masculine strength. She wouldn’t ever have this again, but she had it now. She inclined her head, as if agreeing with him.
“Trixie.” There was amusement in his voice. “I can read your mind.”
She blinked. Pulled back. If that was true, it wasn’t a good thing. Her mind was a place no one else should ever be. She censored a lot.
“You leave me no choice. I will add to the safeguards at the gate. One I doubt you will be able to get around. If you go out the gates, lifemate, you will do so without a stitch of clothing on.”
She shoved at him. Hard. “You can’t do that. There’s no way you can do that.”
He didn’t even rock away from her, not so much as an inch, and she put a lot of power in that shove. “Of course I can. I am Carpathian. You will stay here and wait for me as you should. I enjoy your attitude, but open defiance or putting yourself in danger will not be tolerated.”
Her eyebrows shot up. This time she smacked his chest hard. “You did not just say that to me. You did not.”
“I did. Heed my warning, sívamet. You walk out of the monastery, you will be doing it naked.”
She had clothes in her backpack. She’d walk out all right, naked or not, and she would . . .
“Trixie. You are going to be difficult.” He waved his hand.
She spun around. He let her by loosening his arm at her back. The moment she was fully facing away from him, he locked her in place again, his arm around her stomach. Her backpack was gone. The only thing left was her vampire-hunting kit—which did not contain a change of clothes—and her sleeping bag.
Trixie sighed and laid her head back against the solid wall of his chest, trying to keep her mind blank so he couldn’t read her next move. Since she had no clue what she was going to do, but it probably involved murder and mayhem, she was certain he wouldn’t get anything more out of her mind.
“Mayhem and murder?”
The male amusement in his voice, so soft and gentle, coupled with his hand at the nape of her neck was nearly her undoing. He sounded affectionate. Like he cared. Like she mattered to him and he found her cute, not annoying.
“My murder?” he prompted, turning her back in his arms so that she once again faced him, her body tight against his.
She nodded, her breasts aching and sensitive. There wasn’t much else to do besides nod when he was reading her mind. That stupid, stupid stake gun wasn’t going to do the trick. It was so getting a blistering one-star review when she got back home.