He hissed out a breath, pushed deep once more, and came, every muscle he possessed clenching and unclenching. She’d never made love without a condom, and loved the feel of him jetting inside her.


When he stilled, she wrapped herself around him, holding him as close as possible. He collapsed on top of her, but quickly rolled to relieve the pressure of his muscled weight. They were both sweat soaked and feverish, trembling.


“My Jane,” he said, so much satisfaction in his voice she couldn’t fear the upcoming discussion.


She kissed his shoulder. “My Nicolai.”


Forever.


She hoped.


“Don’t leave…need to talk,” she breathed, just before drifting off to sleep.


CHAPTER THIRTEEN


PANTING, SWEATING, SATED in the most perfect way, Nicolai snuggled Jane in to his side. Her blood flowed through his veins like champagne, bubbling and fizzing, claiming every thought and beating back a painful realization he wasn’t quite ready to face. He wanted to close his eyes and savor, but he had a few things to work out in his mind first.


She’d wanted to talk. About what? If she thought to push him away after what they’d shared… Well, that wasn’t going to happen.


What they’d just done could not be called “sex.”


Sex was an urge. Sex was something you could do with anyone. Sex could be consensual or forced, as he well knew. What they’d done was a mating. Primal, wild, necessary, and as essential as a beating heart.


He would have died if he’d been denied access to her body. He’d simply had to be inside her. Nothing could have stopped him. Not attack, not death, hell, not even her disappearance. If she had returned to her world, he would have found a way to follow her.


There was no resisting this woman, not for him, and he wasn’t going to try anymore. Not in any way. His betrothed might be waiting for him, but so what. Like he’d told Jane, he would have her and no other.


She’d changed him.


When he’d first seen her, scented her, his hunger for her had bloomed. Perhaps he’d become obsessed. Because when he’d watched her being whipped, he’d forgotten his plan to save himself and had gone after her. Then, when he’d heard her scream, had realized the ogres were hurting her, his rage had been unequaled. Seeing her beaten face and body had made a mockery of the rage, however, and he’d become fully beast, his darker nature taking over.


All the times before, he’d only thought he had a temper.


The fighting had ended too early. He’d wanted to torture the king, wanted to keep him at the brink of death and agony for centuries. For Jane’s sake, he’d finished the bastard off and gathered his woman close, just like this.


She had slept then, too, but he hadn’t calmed. The need to brand her, to let the world know exactly who she belonged to, had been driving him as forcefully as the rage had. But he hadn’t wanted to hurt her when he took her—and he’d known he would take her.


So he’d brought her here, intending to swim and pacify himself. He’d meant to feed her the fish, as well, but she’d watched him while he’d captured them, and he’d felt the rise of her desire.


He’d forgotten his good intentions. His hope to be careful.


Now he’d had her, had branded her, just as he’d wanted, needed, but he realized even that wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough with her. He would always want her. Always want more.


Were his parents alive, they would understand. He knew this to be true.


He’d loved them, and they had loved him. They would want him to be happy, and he could not be happy without Jane. His father had settled on a neighboring princess only because Nicolai had shown no preference.


Now, he had.


Jane could not have children, and that bothered her, but it did not bother him. He hadn’t lied to her. He liked her just as she was. When Nicolai became king in his father’s stead—the need lit, caught fire—he would be expected to have an heir. But he had three siblings well capable of seeing to that.


So. His new plan of action: secure Jane to his side, return to Elden, kill the Blood Sorcerer who had slain his parents and claim the throne. He didn’t want to wait to discuss this. Urgency rode him. Instinct that drove him to settle things now.


“Jane…”


A moment passed.


“Jane. Sweetheart.” Gently he shook her.


“Yes,” she muttered groggily.


“We will talk now.”


Her slight catch of breath was encouraging. “Really?”


“Yes, really. When you first came to me, you mentioned a book. Where is the book now?”


“Oh. That’s what you want to talk about.” She sounded disappointed. “I left it at the palace in Delfina. I don’t think that matters, though. It was the right book, just newer. And blank.”


He frowned. “When you read it, the story was about me?”


“Yes. About your enslavement. There was a pink bookmark in the middle, and that’s the page that told about your imprisonment. Then, written by the same hand, was a note from you, commanding me to help you, to come to you. The rest of the pages were blank, though.”


He’d wondered before if he’d written the thing and forgotten. For all he knew, the witches had cursed him to forget everything but what they did to him. Why had the ink disappeared when Jane had shown up in Delfina, though? Because she’d arrived before he’d actually written the book? But, if he’d commanded her to come here—commanded her specifically—he would have met her already. And she would have left him.


He tensed. He did not like that notion and he quickly discarded it. He hadn’t said “come back to me.” He’d said “come to me.” So…magic might have shown her to him, and like the book, he’d forgotten.


Still, the fear that he could lose her took root and refused to leave him. “Do you want to stay here with me, Jane?” He geared for battle. A battle he would fight viciously to win. She had a life he knew nothing about, and were the situation reversed, were he stuck in her world, he would have to find a way to leave to avenge his family and home. And he would have stolen away with her, he thought.


Now she was the one to tense. “Okay, I could answer your question with a question of my own. Do you want me to stay? But I won’t. Because I shouldn’t have to qualify my opinion. I’m not a coward.” She licked her lips, as she did each time she felt desire for him, and he felt the hot slide of her tongue on his chest. “So. Here it is. Yes. I want to stay with you. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”


Thank the gods. He had worried for nothing. “I am glad.” Inadequate words. “I want you to stay with me, too.”


“Really? You’re not just saying that?”


“Jane, when have I ever just said anything?”


“Well, men say stuff they don’t mean to get women into bed. All the time.”


Some did, yes, but he never had. He’d always been up front, offering a single night of his attention, his body, but nothing else, and no longer. That was it, the end. Although, to get Jane into his bed again, he’d do and say just about anything.


“I will always be honest with you. Always. As long as you desire me. Stop, and I will change my dealings with you.”


She laughed, the sexiest purr he’d ever heard. “Thank you for the warning.”


Having her near him was arousing. Feeling her lick him, more so. But that laugh…he was hard as a rock in seconds. “I want you with me, Jane. In bed and out.”


A tremor drove through her, vibrating into him, relief replacing her humor. “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d tried to take away my magic green card. And before you ask, that means get rid of me.”


“Get rid of you? Sweetheart, I’m doing everything in my power to keep you.”


“Really?” Another soft entreaty.


He would have rolled his eyes if he weren’t so happy with her. “Really.”


“Thank you. I mean it. Thank you.”


“And now you thank me. I should be thanking you. And I do. Humbly. You have become the reason I live, Jane.”


He thought he heard her sniffle. She buried her head in the hollow of his neck, rubbing her cheek against him. “So what’s next?”


“I need to return to the kingdom of Elden. I think my siblings are there. Trapped, perhaps. I don’t know. All I know is that, deep down, I am so hungry to slay the new king, I tremble. Like eating, this is a need. I must do it.”


She didn’t hesitate. “I’ll help you.”


He did not want her involved in such a violent, dangerous plan, but he did not want her out of his sight, either. “I need to find a way to keep you bound to me and to this land first. Should I write another book for you?” His magic was stronger now.


“If you do, we will be operating under the assumption that I’ll return, no matter what we do or try.”


“And perhaps such an assumption is what would send you back.” Damn this! There had to be a way. “I wonder what spell I used to bring you here. If I knew, I would know if you would leave after a certain time, or after I am truly free. Or if I bound you to the land forever. I remember so many things, but not that, not yet, and I cannot risk another spell. It might interfere with the first.”


She eased up, her hair tumbling over her bare shoulder, golden moonlight illuminating her. “When I first read the book and realized it wasn’t a joke, I wondered how you could have known me when we’d never met.”


“And you figured out the answer.” His words were a statement, not a question. He’d known his woman was smart. She was the perfect combination of beauty and intelligence.


“Yes. I dreamed of you before I ever read the book. Saw you chained, but never spoke to you. Now I think they were visions rather than dreams.”


“But why have visions of me before I used my magic?”


“Maybe part of me crossed into this world long ago. Some things are familiar to me, like the ghost trees and ogres. Maybe you saw me, too, and that’s how your magic knew to focus on me.”