His first act was to pull back her head gently to check her wound. Fully healed.
His next act was to lie beside her watching her sleep. Her face was relaxed and expressionless, not one of his preferred looks but appealing all the same.
After some time, her eyes fluttered open and, as she had the day before, her expressionless face became bewildered.
And, shortly after waking, as she had the day before, she tensed in preparation for flight.
He caught her close. Her head jerked back, her eyes narrowed and her mouth opened to protest.
He brought his down on hers, hard and demanding her response.
She withheld and began her vain struggles, as usual stubborn to an extreme.
So stubborn, this carried on for long enough that Lucien was forced to try a different tactic. Rolling her to her back and pinning her, his hands moved on her, down her sides, across her belly, up her midriff, all the while his tongue engaged in its sensual duel with hers.
Then his hand moved over her breast, cupping it gently before he snagged her nipple with his thumb.
Her body stopped bucking against his in protest and melted underneath him.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he whispered against her mouth at her capitulation and he took advantage, his finger met his thumb and he rolled her nipple between them.
A delicious noise slid from the back of her throat into his mouth. Her legs opened, one calf wrapping around his hip and he caught the scent of her excitement.
He smiled his triumph against her mouth and slanted his head for another kiss. She met his intent, her own head tipping to the side, her lips pressing against his, no longer resistant but hungry.
He fed her with his hands and his mouth and he kept doing it as she continued to demand it, insatiable, magnificent.
After a time, his hand was in her panties, finger pressed deep and swirling, her mouth against his, breaths sharp and sweet against his lips. She was so deep in her need she was unable to concentrate on kissing him or bear the further sensation of his tongue in her mouth. Her hand was clenched in his hair, her other arm wrapped tight around his back.
“Lucien!” she gasped urgently and he saw it on her face, he smelled it, he knew she was right there.
He withdrew his hand.
“No!” she cried, her hand going to his, fingers wrapping around his wrist.
Her cry sliced through him like a blade. He had been incorrect in what he’d told her the morning before. Even as tortured as her cry was, he suspected this was far more difficult on him than it was on her.
However, he’d chosen his path and he had to continue his efforts at her taming. She had no way of knowing but he knew the reward at the end would be worth the battle.
“Will you mind me?” he queried, his voice was harsh, not with anger but with regret.
Her hazy eyes struggled to focus on his face. “Lucien.”
“Will you mind me?”
He watched the haze clear, his words penetrating, incredulity flooding her face, quickly chased by anger.
“I f**king hate you,” she hissed but even as she did, her h*ps sought his, her body agitated, struggling with her desire.
Lucien sighed impatiently. “I’ll take that as a no.”
“You’re damn right it’s a no!” she snapped and her body wrenched unsuccessfully against his hold.
After this failure, she let out an enraged, strangled scream.
“Leah, you can end this now,” he told her.
“Go to hell!” she flashed.