The spot over her left breast ached, throbbed, even burned. Raven looked down, saw the dark evidence of his brand, touched it with her fingertips. She remembered the feel of his teeth pinning her to the floor, his strength, the warning growl rumbling in his throat like that of an animal. He had taken her body as if it belonged to him, wildly, a little brutally, yet something in her had responded to the ferocious hunger and need in him. At the same time, he had been tender, insuring her pleasure before his own, so careful of her size and the frailty of her small bones. The mixture of his tenderness and wild nature was so impossible to resist, Raven knew no other man could ever touch her as he had. There would only be Mikhail for her.
“Are you telling me you’re of another race, Mikhail?” She was striving to put it all together.
“We believe that we are of another species. We are different. We hide it well—we have to—but we can hear things humans cannot. We speak to the animals, share our minds as well as our bodies and hearts. Understand, this information in the wrong hands would doom us all. My life is literally in your hands.” In more ways than one.
She caught the echo of his thought before he could censor it. “Would you have stopped if I had panicked?”
He closed his eyes, ashamed. “I would like to lie to you, but I will not. I would have soothed you, made certain you could accept me.”
“Commanded me?”
“No!” He denied that vehemently. He would not have gone that far. He was certain of that. He believed absolutely that he could have persuaded her to accept him.
“These gifts.” She rubbed her chin across her knees. “You are stronger physically than any human I’ve ever met. And that leap in the library—you reminded me of a great jungle cat—is that part of your heritage, too?”
“Yes.” His hand tangled in her hair again, brought a fistful up to bury his face in it, breathing her in. His scent lingered on her, would remain in her. A trace of satisfaction touched his fathomless eyes.
“You bit me.” She touched first her neck, then her breast. A sweet, hot ache filled her at the memory of him wild in her arms, his body frenzied with need, his mind a turbulent, red desire, his mouth working eagerly, hungrily at her.
What was wrong with her that she wanted more? She had heard of women so enthralled by sex that they were virtual slaves. Was that what was happening to her? She flung up a hand as if to ward him off. “Mikhail, this is so fast. I can’t fall in love in a couple of days, decide my life in a few minutes. I don’t know you; I’m even a little bit afraid of you, of what you are, the power you wield.”
“You said you trusted me.”
“I do. That’s what makes me so crazy. Can’t you see that? We’re so different. You do crazy things, yet I want to be with you, hear your laughter, argue with you. I want to see your smile, the way your eyes light up, the hunger and need in you when you look at me. I want to take that coldness from your eyes, the distant, faraway stare when your mouth hardens and you look cruel and ruthless. Yes, I trust you, but I have no reason to.”
“You are very pale. How do you feel?” He wanted to tell her it was too late, that they had gone too far, but he knew it would only build her resistance and alarm her needlessly.
“Funny, sort of sick to my stomach, like I should eat something, but the thought of food makes me ill. You gave me one of your herb concoctions, didn’t you?”
“Drink water and juices for a few days, a little fruit. No meat.”
“I’m a vegetarian.” She looked around. “Where are my clothes?”
He grinned unexpectedly, a perfect male smirk. “I got carried away and ripped your jeans. Just stay with me tonight and I will get you new clothes tomorrow.”