Grace watched his expression harden, his eyes darken in determination.
"What do you mean, 'it's not going to happen?'" She watched him warily. Had he been lying to her? Did he mean to kill her after all?
A tight smile curled his lips. "I already smell your distrust," he growled. "I don't lie, Grace. I'm not going to kill you. And I won't torture you."
"Then why stay?"
"Because you own me now. You're my mate."
CHAPTER FIVE
Grace stared back at the wild man standing in the middle of the cabin's living room. Dressed in black leather and facing her with an arrogant determination that had once appeared sexy. Now it was downright scary.
"What do you mean, I'm your mate?" The tabloid stories were rocking through her head, and she really didn't have time right now for the perversions they had reported.
She should have known better than to read that trash. But, like most Americans, she had been fascinated with the discovery of the Breeds. Fascinated and outraged by their creation and the horrifying abuses they had endured.
But, did he answer her? Hell no. He shook his head slowly, his lips curling at one corner, as he continued to watch her with those dark golden eyes. And he kept inhaling slowly, reminding her that she was still wet. So wet from his earlier play that her panties were literally clinging to her pu**y.
"Matthias, right now is really not a good time to pull the silent Breed act on me," she snapped. "I'm about two minutes from a nervous breakdown. This has not been a good night for me." Instantly his expression altered. From arrogance to sensual delight. His facial features softened as he moved toward her, his arms dropping from his chest, his shoulders flexing as he drew the black leather jacket from them. He tossed it to the couch as he neared her.
Grace took a step back. The sensuality in his gaze made her even more wary than the earlier anger had.
"Don't touch me," she ordered him roughly.
"Poor Grace," he crooned, a hint of a rumble in his voice sending a shiver racing down her spine as he moved behind her. "Yes love, it's been a very hard night for you. Seeing your mate for what he is, for who he is, hasn't been easy." She felt his breath on her hair, then his hand as he smoothed it over her shoulder. "I had hoped to ease you into it."
"Ease me into what?" She tried to jerk away, but the hand that suddenly gripped her hip wasn't allowing that to happen. "Into murder? Not going to happen."
"Into this."
Her knees nearly buckled as his lips brushed across the nape of her neck, a hint of the damp warmth of his tongue stroking along it.
"Stop it, Matthias. You can't seduce me into approving what you've done."
"I don't care if you approve of me, Grace. I only care that you accept me."
Oh my God. His teeth raked over her neck.
Grace blinked, fought to clear her vision and to remain on her feet. Because that little scrape of his extended canines did nothing to return her common sense. On the contrary, it only dampened her panties further.
"Get away from me." She tore from his clasp, turning to face him furiously, fighting her arousal and the drugging pleasure his touch brought. "I don't want you to touch me."
"You're body is begging for my touch." He grinned as he sat down on the couch and began removing his boots.
"What are you doing? Put those back on." Shock dumbfounded her. He had murdered a man in front of her, and now he was undressing? As though it were normal?
"Come on, Grace." He flashed her a seductive smile. "I'm tired, and you're snarling. Let's take tonight to rest, and tomorrow we'll revisit this little disagreement."
"Little disagreement? You killed a man."
"He wasn't a man." Matthias shrugged as he set his boots to the side. "He was a monster."
"That doesn't make it right."
"And it doesn't make it wrong, either," he sighed, his expression flickering with regret. "It doesn't make the need for it any less. I don't have to like what I do to realize the fact that it has to be done. Now, let's go find the bed and try to rest."
He gripped her wrist and began drawing her through the house.