Children of the Moon 04 - Dragon's Moon

“It will be between us.”
    “I…” She tried to roll away from him, a hollow pit opening up inside her she wished she could ignore. “Maybe we should—”
    But he held her fast and nuzzled into her neck. “We should engage in this sacred act . It has never been thus for me before. I have never marked another with my scent.”
    “You marked her when you came inside her.” And she still had no idea how many hers they were talking about, was not sure she ever wanted to know .
    “I have never allowed my seed to spill inside another woman.” He leaned above her, his eyes demanding she believe him.
    She had never heard of such a thing, but then her actual knowledge of sex was rather more limited than she hadimplied earlier in their conversation. “How did you have sex then?”
    “With hands and mouths.”
    Like they had just done? The thought made her ill. She tried to move away from him again.
    But he held fast, forcing their gazes to lock with the sheer force of his will. “Do not reject me as your mate because I cannot come to you as untouched as you come to me. I have never marked any other with my scent. None but you will ever be allowed that part of me.”
    His words were a vow, but still she ached inside. “You did not let your essence spill on those other women?” Did not rub it into their skin as he had done with hers.
    “No. I never wanted to.”
    “But—”
    “To do so would have been to claim them for my dragon, for my raven. That I would not do.”
    The full import of his words sank in and she shook her head, refuting their meaning, but knowing there was no way to undo what had been done. Had known since their first touch this night.
    Nevertheless, she said, “I’m not taking you for a mate.” The words came out hollow and even she could not believe them, regardless of how hard she tried to.
    “You already have.”
    “No.” He had claimed her, but she had not claimed him back. Had she?
    “Your wolf knows.”
    “No.” It was as good as done, but it was not done. Not yet. Was it?
    “Tomorrow.”
    “What?”
    “We can argue tomorrow. Right now, let me have you. Please, Ciara?” The pleading in his voice touched her like nothing else could have.
    She was certain he’d never begged another woman.
    She reached up and touched his lips with wonder. “Do princes say please?”
    “For you, this prince will.” He thrust his hardness against her hip, making her aware of the desire driving him. “Only for you. My mate.”
    “Tomorrow.” She knew that one word promised far more than she wanted it to, but she was helpless to deny him.
    Or herself.
    He began kissing her again, his mouth demanding she submit to the claiming. She kissed him back with aggression, telling him with her lips that she was not the only one who would be submitting to a claim this night.
    He rumbled against her and she smiled at his dragon making his presence known, but when Eirik broke the kiss to rub neck to neck, she knew that was his raven giving its approval of their joining. And tears of inexplicable joy pricked her eyes.
    Allowing her wolf its own desires, Ciara pushed against him with her body, writhing against him, mixing their scents, and reveling in the joy of skin on skin. And the kiss continued, their lips nibbling at each other, his tongue invading her mouth, hers pushing back to taste his.
    His hands started moving over her, big warrior’s hands that caressed with a gentleness that should not have been possible. He brushed his fingers down her neck, over her collarbone, across her shoulder, down her arm; and everywhere he touched, he left a firestorm of pleasure in his wake.
    He cupped her breast, his thumb brushing over her turgid nipple and she keened in delight. She could no more help herself than she could stop breathing. That small caress went clear through her body and landed in her womb with a convulsion of desire.
    And Ciara felt an emptiness in her core that she knew only he could fill.
    Her hips moved restlessly, her thighs falling apart in an atavistic invitation she could not have prevented if she had tried.
    One big hand slid down and accepted the invitation, fondling that place no one had ever touched before.
    “You are wet,” he whispered into her ear.
    She did not know what to say to that. The fragrance ofher desire for him was undeniable and she could feel the moisture between her legs as surely as she could feel the beat of her own heart so fast in her chest.
    “Soft,