Dreams of a Dark Warrior

anyway!”
    You’re the one that I want.
Yet then she shivered with fear. “But the curse—”
    “Has no reign over me, no’ over us. The past has no hold!” He brushed his battered knuckles along hercheek again and again. “Can you see
me,
see the man that I am? Accept me, Regin, because I’m holdin’ on to nothin’ but you.”
    A thousand years ago, Aidan had taken her hands in his own and asked her to accept him. Tragedy had followed for all his days. “Declan, I’m … afraid. I’m scared to.”
    “You
know
this is different. You have to feel it too.”
    Do I? Or do I just want him so much?
    He dipped down, his lips slanting over hers. He gave a sharp groan at the contact, but he was gentle, tempering his brutal strength for her. And she loved him for it.
    Gods, how she loved him.
    In the past, whenever the frenzy had seized him, she’d been swept up, answering his beast. Now some long-dormant part of her was waking, clamoring for his kiss, for his claiming.
    Resisting it went against her every instinct. She couldn’t deny that primal pull—not when her heart craved him just as feverishly.
    Want him so badly, love him so much. …
    The conflict within her grew stronger. She feared, but she
hungered
—soon
she
was deepening the contact. Even as she lamented her weakness, she savored his firm lips and lapped at his tongue.
    When he returned her forays with wicked flicks, shivers raced over her. He kissed her until they were breathing for each other, until she got lost in the bliss, scarcely aware as he began stripping her, then himself. She only realized she was naked when she felt the rain on her sensitive skin.
    By the time she lay back on their discarded clothes, she was panting with need; he looked on the verge of losing control as he moved between her legs.
    His body was taut with readiness, his brawny arms and pecs bulging. His shaft was a heavy rod, straining toward her.
    Lightning flashed, shadowing his scars in relief, like brands over his skin. But each raised lash called to mind his strength, his will to survive.
    Magnificent male.
    As her gaze was lovingly tracing over every inch of his body, he’d been regarding hers just as intently. “Look at you, my beautiful Regin. You think I’d surrender you to another? You are
mine
.” He fisted his hand in her hair, yanking her up to him. “Say
my
name, Regin.”
    She breathed,
“Declan.”
    He leaned forward to suck her earlobe. “I’m goin’ to fuck you till you scream it. Fuck you till we lose count.”
    She gasped, his words making her tremble.
    “But I need to get you ready.” He drew back, his smoldering gaze riveted to her sex. “Spread your thighs for me.”
    When she eagerly obeyed, he bent down. She could feel his hot breath against her flesh as he nuzzled her curls, making her nipples pucker into aching points.
    “Never get enough of this.” He pressed his opened mouth to her, his tongue snaking over her clitoris.
    “Ah, yes, yes!” she cried over the thunder booming through the canyon.
    His low growls, his hungry mouth.
Already she grew close.
    When he delved his finger inside her, he groaned,
“Gettin’ so wet, baby.”
He wedged another one in, thrusting them just enough to ready her—while keeping her on the brink.
    The pleasure soon bordered on pain. Gazing up at the sky in agony, she begged, “Declan,
please
.”
    “What do you want, Regin? Tell me and it’s yours.”
    She couldn’t fight this.
Inevitable.
But it was different this time—because Declan remained himself. “I n-need you inside me.”
    “You’re wantin’ my shaft, then,” he murmured against her. “I’ll make you come so hard with it.”
    She gave a strangled cry. Gods, she did want it—she ached for it, shamelessly rolling her hips.
    He rose, pressing wet kisses up her body, his dog tags trailing up her torso. A hard suck on each of her nipples made her head thrash.
    “Ah, please!”
    The corded ridges down his torso rippled when he knelt between her legs, his biceps flexing as he clamped her hips and jerked her closer.
    He fisted his length. When the broad head found her wetness, she cried out; his eyes went heavy-lidded, his jaw slack.
    He began running that swollen tip up and down, groaning in anguish each time it briefly breached her core. “You’re goin’ to be so tight and wet for me.”
    Keening his name, she mindlessly undulated, rocking on the crown.
    “That’s it, lass, move on me!” In that husky voice, he told