her leg to coil around her ankle.
Her wide eyes met his, and she flattened her palms on his chest. “Sorry! That was…so stupid to say. Especially after…after…” She buried her face against his neck, heat flooding her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”
“You did not ruin the moment, Nykasha,” he said, settling his cheek on her hair as he smoothed a hand along her arm. “My anger is only for the way you’ve been mistreated. He ruined something for you, something precious. And if I were ever to encounter him”—his muscles tensed, a growl sounded in his chest, and his claws pressed against her skin—“I would ruin him.”
It shouldn’t have—it really, really shouldn’t have—but Zevris’s threat to her ex-boyfriend pleased her immensely.
Tabitha smiled to herself and traced her fingertip in a circle around his nipple and over the silver bar piercing it. Zevris shuddered and groaned, grinding his hard cock against her belly.
She stilled her hand. “Sorry.”
Of course he was aroused. He’d just given to her without receiving anything in return.
“I could…help you with that?” she offered.
He exhaled heavily, his hot breath flowing over her hair, and his chest rumbled. “No. Tonight was for you, Tabitha. Your pleasure is what I craved most.”
Part of her was disappointed that he hadn’t accepted her offer, while another part of her warmed at his words.
Taking things slow, Tabby. Remember?
Zevris drew back, curled a finger beneath her chin, and lifted her face, forcing her to meet his gaze. “If you want to help me, Tabitha, sleep. For come tomorrow, I will drink from you again.”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead and drew her head back down. He reached behind him, turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness, and pulled the covers over them.
She’d never been so eager for morning to come.
Eighteen
A grin stretched across Zevris’s lips as he scrubbed the pan; his mind was far away from the breakfast he and Tabitha had just shared and the dishes he was cleaning. Today had been the second day upon which he’d awoken with his mate in his arms, and it had been the sweetest of the two by far.
Of course, some portion of that sweetness must have come from the hint of flavor that had been lingering on his tongue—Tabitha’s essence.
Seeing Tabitha naked and lost in pleasure, her inhibitions shattered, had defied description. She’d been more dazzling than a comet with a glittering tail, more radiant than the brightest star, more entrancing than the most vibrant, sparkling nebula.
As he rinsed the pan, his cock ached and throbbed, torturously restrained by his jeans. His craving had only strengthened since last night.
It would have been easy to curse himself as a fool for declining her offer of help—and he had cursed himself, over and over again, especially this morning while his cock had remained hard enough to have whisked the eggs he had cooked for breakfast. But he’d made the right decision. Pleasing her last night hadn’t been a transaction, and he would have done it even if there was no chance of ever winning her over.
The question of trust had loomed over him, also—specifically his lack of trust in himself. Had he given in, there was no telling whether he would’ve maintained self-control, whether he could have stopped himself at tasting and touching.
Pleasing Tabitha had brought him no relief, but plenty of satisfaction. The taste he’d had of her was more than worth the torture.
Waking up with her body, so warm and soft, tucked against him had instilled Zevris with a bliss he’d never imagined possible. He knew the circumstances were far from ideal, knew she hadn’t slept with him entirely of her own free will, but he knew also that he wanted to wake with Tabitha in his arms every morning for the rest of his life.
And she seemed to want it, too, even if she wasn’t yet at the point of admitting as much.
He placed the pan in the drainboard and moved on to the spatula.
Zevris hadn’t had a place to call home for more than half his life. He’d not even had the luxury of sleeping in a bed during many of his assignments, and every one of the beds in which he had slept had been empty. There’d been no one to hold, no one to hold him, and even when he’d had comrades in the field…he’d been alone. He’d accepted that as normal for so long because it was. He’d suppressed his yearning for more, for