Hurstgrove reached for her shirt and unfastened the top button before she could blink. Her heart, already tripping into overdrive, revved up more as he quickly plucked away the rest.

When the last of her buttons came free and he shoved the garment from her shoulders with impatient hands, her need surged.

His stare flared and darkened as he fixated on her white lace bra. He fisted his hands. Hesitated.

A terrible thought occurred to Felicia, and she swallowed down fear. "You ...

don't like--"

God, why humiliate herself by asking if she wasn't as sexy as he'd imagined? He'd had sex with so many women. Actresses, models, beauties both human and magical. How 115

could she compete?

Felicia scrambled for her shirt and covered herself. With a growl, Hurstgrove ripped the garment from her grasp. As her chest rose and fell with sharp, anxious breaths, she felt more exposed than ever.

"Don't like what I see? Is that what you think?" His eyes narrowed, his voice was like a whip.

"I, um ..." She exhaled, shuddering to momentary silence. "Yes."

"You're mad, Sunshine. I'm trying to figure out how I can sate my immense need for you without utterly terrifying you. You're already apprehensive."

Yes, but not for the reason he imagined. His seduction wasn't too much. Her feelings for him were.

"I've never felt anything like this," she admitted with a trembling voice.

He froze. "Like what?"

"This ... consuming desire." She bit her lip, struggling with the next words. "I don't know how to fight it."

"I couldn't from the moment I met you."

His words took her breath. Leaning forward, she pressed her mouth to his lightly.

Then a bit harder. Hurstgrove braced himself against the wall, knuckles white, shaking with the effort to remain still and allow her to lead at her own pace. His trembling told Felicia that such restraint cost him deeply. Her heart flipped all over again.

With every touch, their connection deepened, their desire grew.

Taking her hair in his fists, he thrust her head back and sank into her mouth, turning the kiss into a ravaging that left her breathless. Felicia shivered as he delved deep, his hands roaming her bare shoulders, her back, before settling on the fastening of her bra. In the next second, it gave way and met her shirt on the floor.

Cold air and his hot stare grazed her nipples. Hurstgrove gazed in wonder, as if he found her the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. As if he couldn't hold out another second.

"Felicia." He cupped one mound in his hot palm, thumbing the stiff peak, and she gasped at the hot rain of sensation. His touch heated her skin, raising the fever, before his mouth settled over her and he sucked hard.

With a gasp, she arched toward him, clutching his hard, bulging shoulders to keep him near.

Quickly, he shifted to her other breast, captured it between his lips, sucked, nipped. The need expanded, jettisoning her remaining worry and thought.

She moaned. The ache inside pressed down on her, demanding not just sex, but him. All of him. A dangerous yearning to share her mind and heart, her fears and tomorrows with him invaded her, frighteningly strong. He was alluring, potent.

Forbidden.

Panting with each breath, Felicia eased his zip down, shoving his trousers away with desperate fingers. She wrapped her hand around his erection and stroked down his length, gratified when he groaned long and loud.

Dear God, he was hard. And big. Soon, he'd be inside her, cementing the bond she knew she shouldn't want but could no longer deny.

With a tortured groan, Hurstgrove grabbed her wrists. "I'm trying to go slow, love you the way you deserve. You're killing my good intentions."

She shook her head. "I don't need them. Just you."

Black eyes scanned her, nostrils flaring. With a muffled curse, he lifted her and pushed her to the couch, tossing aside the decorative pillows.

He laid into her jeans, ripping them open with barely concealed violence, dragging them down her hips and to the floor.

Felicia lay completely bare before him, desperate for his touch. Hurstgrove's smoldering stare said he'd never wanted anyone half so much as he wanted her now.

She knew better than to hope that would be true forever.

He covered her body with his. Feverish skin seared her as he kissed his way down her neck and sucked ravenously at her nipples, tightening that invisible vise inside her.

She moaned in surrender.

Restlessly, he wended down her body, laying kisses on the underside of her breasts, over her abdomen. Felicia clutched his shoulders, her nails sinking into his skin as he circled her navel with his tongue, awakening nerve endings she hadn't known existed.

"That's it, Sunshine. Dig those pretty little nails into me. Once I'm deep inside you, give me more of that. Promise me."

His words burned her to the core. "Yes."

With a faint smile of triumph, he wriggled his way lower. Felicia parted her thighs for him. Her head spun, dizzy with desire as his breath ruffled her damp curls. His intent became instantly clear.

"Hurstgrove, I've never, um ..."

He froze and glared up at her. "It's Simon. You're going to say it. Scream it. Over and over as you come until you get it right."

Her belly rolled, dropped, even as her heart soared. She tried to rein it in. No such luck.

"I'm not terribly orgasmic," she admitted softly.

"You are now."

His scorching hands pressed her thighs wider. The muscles stretched for him, a sweet ache. She trembled as he lowered his head, nipping at her thighs, trailing his tongue over her hip, awakening so many nerve endings.

Restlessly, she lifted to him in a silent plea. He gripped her hips in his hands and held her down. "Oh, I'm going to taste you. The scent of your arousal has driven me mad since last night."

He'd smelled her? Before she could process that, he trailed his fingers through her slit, groaning when he encountered her slick flesh. She gasped as sensation and ache coiled tight right where he touched.

"So wet," he praised, brushing a finger over her clit.

She gasped, tensed. With a smile, he repeated the movement, pressing harder, circling, lingering. Blood roared in her ears. Then he added his tongue to the mix, laving the little bud, sucking it into his mouth, swirling around until her entire body shook.

Felicia shifted restlessly, mewling, drowning in their connection as it deepened and rushed over each of her senses. With a hungry touch, he caressed her as if he knew precisely what she wanted. She responded with abandon.

The pressure rose. And the pleasure. Dizziness assailed her as he worked his tongue and fingers in an insistent rhythm that had her gasping. Pleasure ran liquid 117

through her veins, tightening until the explosion seemed but a breath away.

He turned ravenous, sucking her clit into his mouth. His fingers scraped a sensitive spot deep inside. Felicia hadn't thought it possible, but pleasure climbed again, teetering dangerously on the edge of something wonderful. She raced for it, straining. So close ...

Suddenly, Hurstgrove eased back. "When you climax, scream my name."

"Others will hear," she protested.

"Then they'll know who you belong to, just as you should. Tonight, tomorrow.

Always."

Possession rang in his tone, infusing her with both joy and panic. In his mind, this wasn't a one-time event. He meant to take her body again and again.

And her heart, as well.

Dread and insidious joy infused her at once. "No. This is ... It's just once."

He speared her with a scorching stare. "Like hell."

Before she could say another word, he slid his tongue over her again, augmenting the sensation with teasing brushes of his fingers. He read her body like a book, knew exactly what she needed and when.

Her head told her that she should be objecting. This hedonistic devouring went beyond mere sex. Exposing her need down to its raw core wasn't necessary. He made her toes curl, her muscles strain. He kept her on the edge, never applying enough friction to send her hurtling into ecstasy. She let out a keening cry.

"Scream for me," he whispered, his fingertips circling her clit. "My name. Not Hurstgrove, not Duke. My first name on your sweet lips."

Felicia grabbed blindly for the couch cushions. Her heart wanted to open to him, shouted at her to comply. But she was so afraid of how easily he could crush her.

"What-- ooohhh!" She melted at his next touch, then forced herself back on task.

"What are you about? Let's--oh dear God!" Felicia struggled against the pleasure. "Get on with it."

Hurstgrove bared his teeth in a snarl. "I am your mate, ready to claim you in every way. We'll 'get on with it' when you surrender to me."

Before she could reply, he eased his fingers back inside her, skillfully rousing her even more with a deft thumb.

"Oh!" She tossed her head back, legs splaying wider, as pleasure bathed her.

"That's it. I'll give you everything you need as soon you open your heart. No more hiding. No more artificial barriers. I won't have your guilt or fear between us."

"I am afraid." She sobbed out, the razor edge of pleasure and anxiety welling up inside her, forging something so big, she thought her chest might burst.

"Trust me," he panted. "Scream my name. I won't let you down."

God, how badly she wanted to believe that.

As if he considered the matter settled, he lowered his mouth to her again, laving, lingering. Pleasure skyrocketed. Blood rushed, roared, filling her head as her heart pounded, loud and unrelenting. Thump, thump, thump.

Felicia's defenses melted beneath his onslaught, and she gripped his shoulders.

Against her logic, her heart softened, her soul opened. And her surrender unfurled, leaving her exposed, vulnerable. There wasn't a damn thing she could do to stop him from filling all those empty places inside her as the pleasure crashed over her.

"Simon!!!" she screamed long and loud, her nails deep in his shoulders.

Her entire body convulsed as ecstasy rolled through her, raining fire on her, sealing something between them.

Was escaping with her heart unscathed even possible now?

Duke slammed his eyes shut. Careful, he reminded himself. He couldn't just slam into her as he so desperately wanted. It wouldn't serve his purpose. He must tie her to him using every weapon he had. Overcome whatever fear she had of him, men, and love. It was time.

It was true that making love to her might change her imprint on his signature and that once she trusted him with her body, protecting her would be easier. But that wasn't why he craved her. No. He needed Felicia because she was his, and he'd quickly come to love the shy-but-sassy woman.

In the back of his head, Duke had known that mates usually bonded emotionally, even those who exchanged vows in unusual circumstances. What he hadn't counted on was falling completely in love. He needed to feel her beneath him, his in every way.

Now that he knew she not only responded to his touch, but gloried in it, nothing would keep him from claiming her tonight. And every night for the rest of their lives.

Felicia scrambled back on the couch, her hands covering the soft swell of her breasts.

He was having none of it. "Put your arms over your head and grip the arm of the couch."

She hesitated. "S-Simon ..."

"It's good to hear my name on your lips." He dusted kisses down her cheeks, nipped her lobe. "Do as I've asked. Trust me."

She hesitated.

"You wanted to get on with it," he pointed out. "Let me."

"You're going to overwhelm me," she accused.

If by "overwhelm," she meant give her another orgasm, then yes. "I'm going to fortify this mating and keep you safe. Arms over your head, gripping the arm of the couch."

Slowly, she lifted them away from those gorgeous breasts with the candy-sweet nipples that drove him mad, and held tight.

"Good girl." He traced a light finger between her breasts, over one nipple. It sprang up, beaded hard, under his touch. He smiled. "You look beautiful."

She breathed harder, watching him with that skittish doe gaze.

His heart clenched as he lowered his body, gritting his teeth at the sublime sensation of his bare skin against hers. Every curve clung to him, as if she was made to fit against him.

Gasping, Felicia looped her arms around his neck. As much as he loved her embrace, Duke grabbed her wrists and repositioned her grip back on the couch. "For my restraint. Please."

With wary blue eyes, she nodded.

Brushing a pale curl from her cheek, he filtered a soft kiss over her plump lips, trying to give her something gentle to savor. The fever was slamming him, hurtling over his self-control, and his urge to thrust home, go deep, and pummel her with every bit of his passion rode him hard.

"Spread your legs for me."

A flush colored her cheeks, and she bit her lip. "I ... I haven't, um ... Not in a while."

Duke froze. Hadn't Mason been availing himself of her sweetness at every opportunity? If not, more the fool he. If that was the case, Duke knew he had to dig into his reserves and make this tender enough to be good for her. Somehow.

Sweat broke out across his brow as he propped up on his knees. Under his watchful gaze, she parted her thighs a fraction. That would never do. He needed her to offer everything to him. The fever demanded it. The wizard in him needed to know that his mate was his.