Demon Forged

past, he would use it to give her security. She could prepare herself for his next touch. He’d only follow the path he—and the statue she’d made of him—had taken before. A kiss down her back. Then his fingers in her slick, silken heat. And he would not rush, he promised himself.
    No matter how difficult she made it for him to keep that promise.
    Beneath his hands, Irena responded like a flame, tiny flickering movements fed by a sweep of his thumbs, the touch of his breath. A flame, but she was still controlled, contained. He needed her burning higher.
    He lowered to his knee, kissing his way down her spine. Her skin shivered under his tongue. His fingers found the apron’s ties.
    In his mind, he had done this a thousand times. Bared her. Watched her head fall back, with the firelight warming her throat. It had never been with this enormous pressure in his chest. Or the frustration of being unable to see her face and read her emotions.
    These small flickers of movement, the tiny sounds of her response, were not enough.
    Patience , he reminded himself.
    But patience was slipping away.
    “You hold yourself back, Olek.”
    The accusation in her voice was a sharp prod. His hands on her hips, he surged to his feet and spun Irena to face him. He lifted her onto the table, bringing her almost level to his height, and pushed between her leather-clad legs.
    Her gaze targeted his mouth. Her eyes glittered.
    He tangled his fingers into her hair. Brought his lips a razor’s width from hers. “You hold yourself back, too.”
    “I wait to see what you will do.”
    What he would do? As if he would do nothing.
    His blood pounded and urged him on, but it was with slow deliberation that he claimed her mouth. Slow . . . slow. He savored the taste of her, teased her lips open. Then Irena’s fingernails dug into his back and he thrust against the rough heat of her tongue, need riding over him.
    With effort, he slowed again. Irena growled in her throat. He tore his mouth from hers, spoke harshly against her jaw.
    “I will not take you in a frenzy. I have waited too long.” He ground his erection against her sex. She lifted to him with a husky moan that almost pushed him over the edge. “And if I come inside you now, I will come inside you now .”
    “I have waited, too. So I will take it.”
    His eyes closed. “Perhaps you will. My pride will not.”
    She laughed, and he pulled back to see her face. His heart kicked, hard. By all that was holy, she was stunning. Strong. And he had to see more of her.
    “You want to know what I will do?” He hooked his fingers in the neckline of her apron. “I will remove this.”
    “That is all?”
    His gaze fell to the vee of her thighs. His stomach clenched with need. “No. I also have a promise to keep.”
    She hesitated. Her lashes dropped, hiding her eyes.
    No. Brash, earthy Irena wouldn’t look away when a man spoke of taking her with his mouth. But she would if she felt vulnerable or afraid.
    He jerked his hand back. Her gaze snapped to his. He sensed her sudden anger, and his temper rose to meet it.
    “I will finish this, Irena.” But not in anger. And not with Irena battling herself every step of the way.
    Curse that bastard demon. Irena ripping the creature apart hadn’t been enough. Alejandro would’ve given anything to put the demon back together just to rip him apart again.
    Feeling his control slip, he turned abruptly away from her to stalk across the forge. The light from the hearth fire stung at his eyes. How had this happened? He could never have imagined these hesitations when they finally came together, these false starts. One touch had always been enough for need to take over. Christ, they hadn’t even had to touch. All it took was a look. Need had never been a problem. The problem had been preventing himself from going to her, stripping her naked, and staking his claim in the most basic, barbaric way a man could.
    Yet now he had to force himself to push forward. Force himself to kiss her, and try, for God’s sake, to forget that she had to give herself permission to enjoy it. The very thought revolted him; he could only imagine how fiercely Irena hated it.
    But he also couldn’t stomach the thought of avoiding her again.
    The path they were on now was right. They had kept from each other for too long. But, by God, he simply could not find his footing.
    He stalked past the bed lying next to the wall. He wanted to burn it. Wanted to slash the furs to