"I'm listening," he said quickly.
"I mean from the act itself." Her voice was a purr as she glided to the floor to kneel before him. With delicate, pale hands, she tentatively eased open his knees.
His jaw slackened as realization hit him. "You doona mean - ?" He should be recoiling. His c**k stood stiff as a pole.
"I want all of you, Lachlain." Purring words. Lovely Emmaline with her plump lips gazing up at him with beseeching blue eyes. "All that you have to give."
He wanted to give her anything she desired. Anything. With a shaking hand, she unfastened the top button of his jeans.
He swallowed hard.
Shouldn't he at least be hesitant about this? Lord help him, he was fighting to keep his hands off the back of her head to rush her. He sensed she could easily lose her nerve, knew she had never before given a man this pleasure. To begin the night of the full moon with this...? He was dreaming.
She slowly unzipped his jeans, gasping when he sprang forth, then gave him a shy but seductive smile, seeming pleased by his erection. She held it with two hands as if she'd never let him go.
"Emma." His voice was broken.
"Hold out for as long as you can," she said, stroking his length once. His eyes closed with pleasure.
He felt her breath first, making him shudder. Then her slick lips, then her tongue darting and flicking over his flesh. Ah, she had a wicked little tongue -
Sweet God, her bite.
He gave an anguished groan, falling back on the bed, only to immediately raise his hand to cup her face and his head to watch her mouth on his cock. He was a twisted man... "I had...no idea. Always like this," he growled. "Always."
He didn't know if he was going to come at once or pass out. Her hands were everywhere, cupping, teasing, driving him wild. She moaned against him, and her sucking grew greedy. She'd never taken this much, but if she needed, he would give. He was weakening, yet he never wanted it to end. "Emma, I'm going to - " His eyes rolled back in his head and everything turned black.
26
Don't look back, put on my shoes in the car. Run like hell.
She did. Straight to the extensive garage, scanning for keys to the many cars, finding nothing. Frustration welled up. But then words were whispered in her head, like silk fluttering down.
Run.
She was trying to! No keys. She sprinted back and scanned around the castle for a work truck, a freaking tractor at this point.
She stilled and frowned, feeling warmth from just above the horizon. As if in a trance, she lifted her face to it. The full moon. Rising tonight.
She felt the light. Like she'd always imagined people did with the sun.
Her hearing was sensitive; things called to her from the forest beyond. She'd avoided that dark place in all her exploring. The sight of it had defeated even her newfound sense of courage.
Run there.
She had to fight the urge to sprint headlong into the abysmal-looking forest. Lachlain would catch her there - he was a hunter, a tracker. That's what he did. She had no chance of escaping.
Still her body twitched from the battle, as if she missed running within the forest, though she'd never been. Was she going mad even to think of this?
Run!
With a cry, she dropped her shoes and obeyed, fleeing the manor and a soon-to-wake, irate Lykae. She plunged into the woods and realized she could see. Her already strong night vision was perfected.
But why was she seeing? Did his blood affect her so much? She'd taken a lot. Now she knew Lykae could see as well at night as by day.
She smelled the forest floor, the moist earth, the moss. She even smelled rocks wet with dew. Dizzying. She might have swayed, but her feet fell perfectly placed to the ground as if she'd run this way a thousand times.
The scents, the sound of her breaths and her heart beating, the air rushing over her...heaven. This was like heaven.
Then she became aware of something new. The running was an aphrodisiac, with every footfall vibrating up her body like a long stroke. She heard his bellow of rage echoing from miles away at the manor, seeming to shake the whole black world around her. As she heard him crashing after her, she felt the need for release. Not fear of what he would do to her when he caught her, but anticipation. She could hear his heart pounding furiously as he neared. Even when weakened, he ran headlong for her.
He would chase her forever.
She knew this as if he'd spoken it in her mind. He would claim her and never let her go. That was what his kind did.
Chapter 18
You're his kind now, her mind whispered. No! She wouldn't give in.
A Lykae mate would've let herself be caught. Would be waiting for him, naked and spread in the grass or leaning back against a tree, hips offered up and arms overhead, reveling in the fact that he was chasing her, anticipating his ferocity.
Emma was going insane! How could she know these things? She would never welcome ferocity. Give a cry early, at the first sign of pain. That was her rule.
She'd just reached a clearing when she heard him lunge for her. She tensed for the impact with the ground, but he turned and took it on his back, then moved her bodily to lie in the grass. When she opened her eyes, he was above her, on all fours.
He was larger. His eyes weren't their golden color. That eerie blue flickered across them. His exhaled breaths were low rumbling growls. She knew his body was weakened, she had felt how much so when he ran, but his obvious intent made him strong.
"Turn...over," he bit out. His voice was distorted, grating.
Lightning streaked the sky above him. He didn't seem to notice it, but she stared at it like one might a comet. Could she be more Valkyrie than she knew?
Sane Emma said, "No."
The lightning also illuminated in flashes what he was inside. Fangs of his own, the ice-blue eyes, his already incredibly powerful body rippling with more muscle. He yanked her bag and jacket from her, sliced open her clothes to strip her, snarling and growling while she beheld the lights above in a daze.