“He wouldn’t have claimed you otherwise,” Briana answered for him.
“Claimed me?” She followed Briana’s gaze to the healing bite mark on her neck. “As in property?”
“It’s not like that.” Tristan glared at his sister. “I’ll explain everything but first I need to know what Dolan was doing here.”
Briana whistled. “The Fae? Didn’t see that one coming.”
“You made a deal with him, didn’t you?” Tristan pressed.
Kennedy said nothing, her expression bordering on defiant.
“You need to tell me. Dolan can’t be trusted.”
She gestured to the bite mark. “And you can?”
“Yes.” The doubt in her eyes twisted his insides. Although frustrated, he couldn’t expect her to blindly trust him. It would have been helpful—unrealistic—but damn helpful.
“Because you’re my mate?”
Yes. However, he was smart enough to realize that sharing that probably wouldn’t win him any points here. “Because no one else will protect you like I will.”
“Because no one else will die for me, you mean? I can’t live with another death on my conscience.” She spun on her heel and strode away from them.
Briana stopped him from pursuing Kennedy. “Give her a few minutes before going all Neanderthal on her.”
“Thanks to you,” he snapped.
She threw out her arms in disgust. “Someone needs to get through to you.”
“It wasn’t your place.”
“And it’s not your place to determine this family’s future.”
“But it’s Cale’s? Sorry, but he is not my keeper.”
Her eyes flared at the comment, and she turned away.
Damn it. “Wait a second. Look, it may not come to a fight. Lucan said something about tipping the scales.”
“And?”
“Maybe it’s nothing, but I think he was trying to tell me something. There was a dragon talking to Kennedy the other night. He was tall and lanky, had dark hair and wore the mark of the McKibben clan. I need to know who he is.”
“Since when did the dragons care about Excalibur?”
“Maybe Morgana is starting to make them nervous.” Tristan couldn’t imagine the dragons getting involved after this long unless the power-hungry sorceress was eyeing their territory.
She let out a breath, nodded. “Give me an hour and I’ll get you a name.”
—
“You should have said something,” Kennedy said through the closed bathroom door. Already the walls felt like they were closing in, but short of another face-off with her phantom assassin, she didn’t trust herself not to reach for something worse than a water hose where Tristan was concerned.
“I wanted to give you some time to get used to being with me first.”
A fresh wave of disbelief and anger swept through her. “You say that like I don’t have a choice.”
No response.
“Oh, that’s right,” she added. “You took that choice away from me. It’s a wonder you didn’t just club me over the head and drag me home to your cave.” She considered her surroundings. “Although you pretty much did, huh?”
“Kennedy,” he began.
She planted her palms against the door. “If this is where you tell me you’re sorry or that you’re going to fix it, you’d be better off batting around a ball of yarn right now.”
“I’m not fixing anything. I’m sorry you found out that way, but it doesn’t change anything.”
She wrenched the door open, unprepared to find Tristan leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door. Ignoring the instinct to back away from him—very, very slowly—she took another step forward, planting her feet directly in front of him. Although terrified that her life was spinning beyond her control for the second time, she refused to back down.
“You might come from a different world than I do, but that doesn’t mean you control me.”
The stubborn look on his face softened. “I just want to keep you safe.”
“From the wraith, maybe. But who’s going to protect me from you?” At his confused expression, she added. “You both branded me. Why is your mark any different?”
He cocked his head, his gaze turning perceptive. “What’s bothering you more? That we’re mated, or that someone told you before you realized how deep the connection between us runs?” He palmed her cheek, his proximity sending off warning bells in her head even as her whole body clenched. “You know there’s something between us.”
“Lust,” she provided.
His devilish grin should have annoyed her. Maybe it would have if he wasn’t sweeping his thumb back and forth across her jaw like that.
“It’s more than that.” His tone dared her to deny it.
“Like whatever it was that made you bite me?”
“Claim you,” he corrected.
“And what if I don’t want to be claimed? What if I don’t want to belong to you or anyone else?”
He arched a brow. “Just if? I must be growing on you.”
She jabbed her finger into his chest. “Don’t you dare make light of this.”
“I take my mate very seriously.” His attempt to look solemn didn’t even get off the ground, not when a cocky grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Kennedy scowled, proving how unimpressed she was. And if it also masked just what that grin did to her, all the better. “How long have you known?”
“A couple of days.”
“And it’s just okay with you? That I’m the one biology and fate somehow determined was meant for you?”
His hand slid down her neck, his thumb doing that seductive sweeping thing to her throat. “If it means that I get to spend every day figuring out how to make you laugh and smile, and every night learning how to drive you absolutely wild in bed, then that’s more than okay with me.”
“This is crazy.”
“Crazy is denying it because you didn’t anticipate it.” He pressed his lips to her cheek. “Crazy is pretending you don’t feel what I do to you.”
Her breath hitched. “Good sex does not guarantee a lasting relationship.”
“Good?” He slid lower, heading straight for her mouth. “I was thinking more like phenomenal. Earth-shattering even.” His lips grazed hers.
Kennedy didn’t dare let herself draw a breath. “You’re doing it again.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She heard the smile in his voice.
“You’re trying to distract me.” And it might not have been such a bad thing if she wasn’t a tad preoccupied with the whole mate development.
Desperately needing space, she eased back a step, then two more.
Tristan didn’t even try to hide his satisfaction.
“Stop it,” she warned, then at his innocent look added, “Stop looking like you enjoy pursuing me.”
He shrugged unapologetically. “The hunt is half the fun.”
“I am not your prey.”
“Then stop trying to figure out a way to get past me.”
She eyed the bedroom door again. “You can’t just keep me in here.”
“I could always restrain you.” His hot gaze roamed over her. “For your own good, naturally.”
“I want you to leave.” Preferably before she gave serious thought to giving in to the feverish buzz humming under her skin. There was too much at stake to sweep it all under the proverbial rug to be dealt with later.
He came closer. “Say that again, only try sounding like you mean it this time.”
She bolted, huffing out a breath when he caught her around the waist and pushed her against the door. How in the hell had he gotten it closed so damn fast?
“Look at me, Kennedy.”
Not until he repeated the throaty demand a second time did she realize she’d squeezed her eyes shut. “No.”
“Please.”
She shook her head, biting down on her lip to silence the thoughts that would sabotage every surviv
al instinct she possessed.
“Come on, Kennedy.” He nipped at her jaw. “Look at me.”
The past and present collided and she shoved past him. “Do you know how I got this scar?” She jerked her shirt up, intentionally exposing her marred skin. “A drunk driver ran our car off the road and into the river. I was barely conscious and my mom couldn’t get my seat belt undone right away.
“The car was taking on freezing cold water and the impact of hitting the drunk driver and guard rail had smashed up the door frames. In the process of freeing me and getting us clear of the car, my mother severed her femoral artery. She died a few minutes after dragging me to shore.”
He pulled her into his arms. “Kennedy—”
She averted her face. “Don’t kiss me,” she pleaded. “Don’t make me want you more than I already do. Don’t make me fall for you. Not when…” The words stuck in her throat. She lifted her hand to his face. “Don’t die on me too.”
“After I’ve just found my mate? Not a chance.”
“God, I don’t even know what to do with that.”
“Just give it some time. Give us some time.”
Time to get even more attached? Not a good idea. Something on her face must have said exactly that because Tristan gripped her arms.
“Nothing is going to happen to me. You need to trust me. I’ll be fine.”
There wasn’t time to voice her doubts. He trapped her face in his hands and captured her mouth in a drugging kiss, one that wrenched her heart into a dizzying backspin. She covered his hands with hers, leaning into him. One by one her reservations and fears retreated, stripping her down to the bone.
For one heart-crushing moment she thought about putting an end to the kiss, an end to the ever-deepening feelings she had for him before she ended up hurt and alone all over again.
But she couldn’t do it, couldn’t stop herself from twining her arms around him and holding on, and it had nothing to do with biology or fate or being claimed. She’d been so overwhelmed by everything she’d learned in the last few days she’d failed to notice how alive being with him made her feel.
“Don’t shut me out,” Tristan pleaded, pressing his face against her neck. “Be mad, be scared, but don’t be alone in it.”
She started to shake her head, trying to find the words that could begin to express just how much she didn’t want to be alone.
“Do I have to beg?” He dropped to his knees, the playful glint in his eyes undermining his solemn expression. He wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her stomach. “Be with me,” he murmured against her.
“Unless you’re afraid,” he taunted when she couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat.
A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “I’m not afraid.”
“Prove it.” He followed the arrogant challenge up by tugging at the hem of her shirt.
She brushed his hand away, anticipating his next move. As eager as her body was to feel his rough palms sliding over her skin, he couldn’t be the one always calling the shots.
She nodded at the bed. “Sit.”
He hesitated, and when she ran her finger along the hem of her shirt, drawing it higher, he moved to the edge of the mattress. Since she hadn’t expected him to go along with her so quickly, she paused, questioning her next move.
“Don’t stop.”
She pressed her finger to his lips. “No more talking.”
Heat flared in his eyes, the wild blue depths more feline than human. Kennedy grasped the edge of her shirt and drew it up, exposing her midsection, then dragging it higher. When she caught herself turning instinctively to the right to keep her scar out of his immediate line of sight, she stopped.
Forgetting yesterday and refusing to worry about tomorrow, she needed to share all of herself with him, even if it was only for tonight. Holding his gaze, she stripped off her shirt.
A sound somewhere between a groan and a growl rumbled in Tristan’s chest. She smiled, taking off everything but her bra and panties. His fingers curled into the blanket, as though he knew he couldn’t yet touch her.
Kennedy took the last step remaining between them. She slipped her bra strap off one shoulder, then the other, drawing out every second until she unclipped the back and let it fall to the floor. Her nipples hardened under Tristan’s scorching gaze.
He shifted on the edge of the bed, but waited, a predator knowing that eventually his moment to strike would come. Words escaped her as she tugged off his shirt, running her fingers down the smooth layers of muscle stacked atop muscle.
Tristan caught her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her palm before letting her go. He didn’t wait for her to tell him to lie back, stretching out on his own a moment before she could get the words out. Propping one hand behind his head, he managed to look like he’d orchestrated the show, only his clenched jaw and hungry dark eyes betraying his increasing restlessness.
Catching the edge of her panties, she slipped them over her hips and slowly down her legs. Naked to the core, she took another breath, wondering where her courage had suddenly fled. She stood up to rowdy drunks and stone-cold assholes on a nightly basis, and yet one look at Tristan waiting for her made her tremble inside and out.
His lips parted, and she half expected him to order her to get on the bed already.
Instead he drank in the sight of her for what felt like hours, then, “I need you.”
Not I want you. Not I’ll keep you safe. Just I need you, and never before had three little words ever touched her or unleashed such sheer longing that her knees almost gave out.
Crawling across the bed, she didn’t waste any more time. She didn’t object when he fumbled to help her get his pants off. That he didn’t rush her when she pushed him back and straddled his hips, brushing the full length of his cock, spoke volumes about his restraint.
She leaned down, sliding her mouth over his. “Touch me,” she whispered against his lips.
“I don’t know that I trust myself to just yet.” The rough confession sizzled through her bloodstream like fire streaking toward gasoline.
Stealing another kiss, letting the savage intensity lick through her system, she then leaned back and took every inch of his shaft deep inside her.
Chapter Eight
Sweet Avalon. Tristan sucked in a breath, grappling for the control she’d effectively shredded, first with her tantalizing strip show and then with a kiss that slayed him on the spot.
She rocked her hips, and he pushed up, sinking deeper. He fisted his hand under his head to keep from grabbing her and rolling her beneath him. Every sweet bounce of her ass, the soft grind when she took him fully inside her, the rapid rise and fall of her breasts—so damn close to his mouth and much too far away—threatened to undo him here and now.
She rode him slow and easy, her quick breaths growing faster and closer together. Damn but she was gorgeous. Everything about her—the fiery spark in her eyes, the unabashed arch of her spine, the sexy, confident smile—spoke of her strength, even the scar she didn’t try to hide from him this time.
He ran his hand up her thigh, squeezing his eyes shut to prevent them from rolling straight back in his head when she quickened her pace. Digging his heels into the mattress, he rocked up, wanting it harder.
She shook her head, and at first he thought she meant to draw the torture out, to take him to the edge one soft, carnal bounce at a time. Not a bad way to go really, but then she dropped her head back and all he could think about was pulling her down to catch one of her nipples between his lips.
Sliding his hands higher, he cupped her breasts, thumbing her jutting nipples. Kennedy moaned, and he took a chance, coaxing her down. She hovered over him and he leaned up, closing his mouth over one hard tip. He caught her hips, holding her down where he fit so deep inside her.
He didn’t know how long they just held on that way, the sweet walls of her sex clenching around his cock as he sucked her nipples between his lips, laving the swollen tips with his tongue.
Whimpering, Kennedy pushed him back down, riding him harder, almost ready to come. His jaw clamped down, his own release streaming closer and closer. Tension wound his spine tighter, and he slipped his hand up the inside of her thigh. He brushed his thumb over her clit and she cried out, pumping wildly.
Tristan couldn’t tear his gaze away from her, not when she brought her arms up, catching the mass of blond waves and drawing it away from her face. The raw seductive heat in her eyes would have pushed him right over the edge if she hadn’t arched up and cried out, her orgasm setting him off. He bucked his hips beneath her, driving himself hard and deep until his own release crashed over him.
And when Kennedy collapsed against his chest, breathless, a soft smile on her lips, he wondered for the first time exactly who had claimed who.
—
Tristan turned his head to look at Kennedy stretched out beside him. As much as he wanted to spend the rest of the night just like this, he knew he couldn’t put the discussion off any longer. “Tell me about your bargain with Dolan.”
She closed her eyes briefly. “I can’t. You know that.”
“You don’t know him.”
“And you do?” she challenged.
Frustration ate at him. “I know his race. The Fae never agree to anything unless it’s to their benefit. That’s how they work.”
Kennedy rolled away from him, and his stomach turned to lead.
“Tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“You mean you won’t.”
She sat up, jerking the sheet off the bed and trapping it against her front when she whipped around to face him. “I haven’t had a damn say in any of this since it started. Not being marked, or brought here or claimed.”
Judging by her tone, what just happened between them hadn’t brought her much closer to accepting their bond.
“But this,” she continued. “My deal with Dolan…I’m in control of that.”
“That’s exactly what he wants you to believe, but whatever you asked for, whatever he demanded for the trade, he’ll twist it around.”
When she remained silent and turned away from him, Tristan snagged her wrist, jerking her back down to eye level. “Damn it, tell me.”
Primal Hunger: Pendragon Gargoyles, Book 1 Page 11