Mists of Velvet

because he was a mortal?
    Christ, just looking at her made him want to lunge at her and take her, claim her as his. She wasn’t going to Keir—no fucking way.
    Coming up to her, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against him. Pulling the towel from her body, he threw it onto the floor and pressed her naked body to his. Having removed his shirt, he was now clothed only in jeans, and the feel of her silky skin against his chest made him rock hard. She moaned, whispering his name, and he whispered ruthlessly in her ear, “Yes—Rhys. Your mate.”
    With lightning speed, he turned her around so she was facing the wall. Reaching for her wrists, he held them above her, and Bronwnn gasped as he nudged the front of his jeans against her gorgeous ass.
    He pressed his hard body against her back. She gasped again when her breasts grazed the cold wall, but he didn’t ease his hold.
    “I love that sound,” he murmured as he licked her neck. “It makes me hot and hard. Makes me want to sink my cock deep inside you, fucking you hard so that you never forget who you belong to.”
    He thrust against her once more as he nipped the tender flesh beneath her ear. “Who do you belong to, mo bandia ?”
    Bronwnn had never seen Rhys like this, so masterful and dangerous. She was aware of the barely controlled emotion simmering within him.
    He clutched her fingers in his hand, his other hand, warm and soft, stroking the length of her back to her hips. Bronwnn held her breath, sensing the struggle waging deep inside him. He was hurting and no doubt feeling betrayed. She wanted to reach out to him; yet she instinctively knew he was beyond listening. He was all male now. Hurting and aching. And so was she. She wanted this—his desire; his power.
    “How I love you like this. Bare-assed and willing,”he drawled, sliding his hand down her bottom and cupping her. “I’ll bet I could make you beg for it. God, I want that,” he groaned, thrusting his erection against her. “I want to hear you beg me for it.”
    Between her thighs, she was wet and aching. His words unleashed an intense desire within her. She was completely at his mercy. “If that is what you want, I will beg you.”
    Rhys put his knee on the window bench and lifted her leg so that her foot was on top of his thigh. Coolness caressed her flesh, and she felt his fingers stroke her throbbing sex.
    “Wet and throbbing,” he drawled, trailing his tongue up the length of her spine. “I want to fuck you, just like this.”
    She tried to turn around, to release his hold, but Rhys only squeezed her hands and pressed them harder against the wall.
    “Leave them up,” he commanded. Then he turned her around, so that she was looking into his eyes, eyes that were burning with an intensity she had never seen before. Was it passion, or was it just anger glistening back at her?
    Her hands were still raised above her head, and the position pushed her breasts forward, making her back arch so that she appeared to be flagrantly offering herself to him. His gaze skimmed her length, and she closed her eyes when she felt his fingers encase her throat, then slowly slide down her neck.
    She was breathing hard, excited and aroused beyond belief. This dangerous part of him called to a buried yearning deep inside her.
    “Rhys,” she moaned when he circled her erect nipple. His finger stilled, and his gaze flickered up to meet hers. “Rhys, please. I burn; I ache.”
    “Then why did you offer yourself up to Keir?” he groaned, cupping her breasts and stroking her nipples. He tugged at them, and her womb contracted in response.
    “Because I love you,” she cried.
    “Then why spend your life with Keir and not me?” he asked, raising her leg so that the ball of her foot rested against the cushion of the window seat. “Why not have this, this passion, this desire that flows between us?”
    She tried to talk, but her teeth were chattering, and she was starting to tremble with desire. Her body literally throbbed for him. She needed his touch. Needed him. She needed to be filled with his cock; to be taken by him.
    Rhys went to his knees, his hands stroking the undersides of her breasts before trailing down her belly. His fingers raked through her curls, and she felt his hot breath against moist skin.
    He licked her swollen folds, long and slow, and she felt her leg weaken, but he reached for her knee and steadied her, spreading her sex with his thumbs and exposing her to his