She smiled at him, rubbing his shadowed jaw. Fortunately you can do that thing with your mind.
“What thing?”
Make my clothes vanish. I rather like that little perk.
“This is seduction, Marguarita. Pure seduction to get your way.” Once again his hand shaped her bottom. “I suppose I will have to get used to you occasionally getting your way. Men’s pants are more practical for riding, although a divided skirt would work.”
She stepped away from him and deliberately walked to her dresser, her hips swaying. Just reserve judgment.
She took a pair of lacy thong underwear, the sexiest she had, from her drawer. The sachet of lavender scented the panties.
Zacarias followed close behind her and he held out his hand to inspect the little scrap of black lace. The thin strip would barely cover her crotch, the lacy strap would disappear between her cheeks and four black cords hugged the curve of her cheeks.
“This is underwear?”
She nodded.
“I will see you in these men’s clothes and know this is what you wear beneath them?”
She nodded again. The building lust in his eyes sent heat rushing through her body. His gaze settled on her high, rounded breasts and then swept lower to the triangle of black curls guarding his personal treasure.
“And what will you wear to cover your breasts from the eyes of other men?”
His voice rasped over her and instantly her nipples grew hard. Her breath turned ragged, but she obediently pulled a matching black bra from the drawer. She had nothing quite as daring as this particular set she’d bought on a whim. Sheer black lace stretched over her full breasts, edged with black satin. Her nipples would show right through all that lace, peeking at him through the thin material. The underwire gave support and at the same time pushed her breasts up and out.
He accepted the bra and turned the fragile material over and over in his hand before raising his gaze to her breasts.
“Come here.”
The command in his voice nearly brought her to her knees. She loved the way he sounded so male. She loved that husky note that told her he belonged to her in that moment. There was no one else in his world. Everything and everyone else disappeared for her when his voice took on that note. There was only Zacarias and the growing hunger in his gaze. She loved the idea that he could want her after just taking her so thoroughly earlier.
“It pleases me when you are aroused,” Zacarias said as she approached him.
His hands went to her breasts, rolling and tugging on her nipples. He leaned down and the mass of his long hair slid over her bare skin, sending electric currents straight to her core. She could feel her body dampen, growing moist for him. She was aroused, just looking at him, thinking of him, hearing his sexy voice. It didn’t matter with him that she had no voice, he was in her mind, reading her thoughts, and the intimacy of that communication was every bit as sensual as the way his fingers teased her nipples. The edge of roughness only added to her desire, his hard body such a contrast to her soft one.
Zacarias didn’t allow her to hide from him, not in her mind and not sexually. She hadn’t known she was capable of such lustful thoughts, but everything she’d ever read, or heard, or imagined, went through her head when she was with him. She wanted his body to belong to her alone, as she knew hers did to him. The idea of another man touching her in the way Zacarias had was repugnant to her.
“I cannot believe these scraps are undergarments, but I will enjoy knowing you wear them for me.”
He had definitely picked up on the fact she’d never worn the black lace before.
You want me again. There was an invitation in her mind.
“Yes. I will always want you, Marguarita, but before my needs and wants, I must put your health. You are very sore.”
Can’t you do something about that? She infused the idea with blatant temptation.
“Until I know more about how your body reacts, I wish to see how you respond naturally. You are very small and tight. I realize it was your first time and there was stretching along with taking your virginity. You bled.”
She fought the blush stealing up her body. That’s normal when a woman is a virgin. He didn’t mind discussing sex with her, or her body’s response, which she was grateful for. It allowed open communication, but still, she’d never done that before with anyone, let alone a man she was fast becoming obsessed with. Still, she went warm knowing he would deny himself just to make certain she was fully healed.
“I can ease the soreness if it is too much,” he offered.
She shook her head. She liked the feeling of his possession, but wasn’t certain how to give him that impression.
He seemed to understand. He touched the dent in her chin with a gentle finger. “Dress in your male clothes and let me see how seductive such clothes can be.”
The teasing note in his voice played havoc with her senses. Every nerve ending was already raw and on alert, totally tuned to him, completely aware of him. When she inhaled, she felt as if he was the very air she breathed. How had it happened without her realizing he was slowly creeping into her head—and into her heart? She had been so afraid at first, mixing him up with her memories of the vampire. His behavior hadn’t helped—until she’d taken that plunge and allowed her mind to connect fully with his. He’d melt the hardest heart if they could see inside of him. He was noble, loyal, a man of honor. He deserved love.
“Sívamet.” He whispered the Carpathian endearment aloud and pushed the word deep into her mind. “You see someone who does not exist. I wish he did. I would give anything to be that man you have given such a gift to. I am a warrior. Nothing more.”
Marguarita slipped on the black lace panties, as provocatively as she was capable of being. The protest welling in her mind spilled into his. You are more than worthy—to me you are worth everything.
He shook his head, but clearly the sight of that scrap of lace sliding between her firm, shapely cheeks distracted him. He cleared his throat and she smiled as she reached for a pair of her favorite jeans. They were worn and faded to a vintage light blue, the material soft and distressed on her thighs and over one knee, but they fit like a glove and when she rode, they were the most comfortable pair of jeans she owned.
She felt his reaction more than saw it. His face was as expressionless as ever, although his eyes were alive with heat and desire. Very casually she clipped the bra on, allowing it to cup her breasts. The marks from his mouth and hands were visible through the peekaboo lace. He stepped close to her and bent his head to brush first her left breast and then her right with a soft kiss.
“Did I hurt you?”
You know you didn’t. You made everything perfect for me. He had. He had been rough, yes, but he had more than ensured she felt nothing but pleasure.
Marguarita sank down onto the edge of the bed and pulled on thin socks and then her riding boots. She lifted each foot into the air to pull on the tanned leather boots, taking her time, enjoying the hunger in his gaze. Truthfully, the very act of dressing in front of him, having his focus so completely on her, was sexy beyond her imagining.
She smiled up at him, noting his eyes were midnight black. He looked so larger than life, his body hard and scarred, well muscled. He flowed across the room, his shoulders filling the space, his eyes penetrating, his mouth sensual.
I like looking at you. She admitted it shyly. She wanted him to know she was in his world, however he wanted her—that he wasn’t alone and that she had chosen of her own free will to be with him.