His eyes crinkled at the corners. "You like bad boys," he accused her. "You told me you did."
"That's beside the point," she huffed. "And stop making me crazy. You are making me crazy, you know."
"Because you love me." There was so much confidence in his voice that she grit her teeth in agitation.
"Don't tell me how I feel, Matthias. I don't like it." She glared back at him. "You have to be the lousiest kidnapper in history."
"Should I tie you to your bed?" He mused, his expression strained, despite the amusement in his eyes.
"You'd enjoy that too much," she finally sighed before turning away and moving a few paces along the finely ground dirt that bordered the lake. "Would you give it up?" She finally asked, turning back to him.
"Give what up?" he asked, but she saw in his eyes that he knew what she was talking about.
"What you do." The killing. The bloodshed. The danger.
He pushed his fingers through his long black hair. The moment he released it, an errant wind blew it back around his face, giving him a savage, warrior appearance.
He breathed in deeply, stared out over the lake, then turned back to her. "For you. As long as no danger threatens you."
She felt herself trembling, hope surging through her, burning through her mind, as he stared back at her, his expression stoic.
"You wouldn't hate me for it?"
"Grace, dammit, I love you," he snarled. "Do you think I'm unaware that things have to change if you accept me? That what is acceptable as an unmated male would be unacceptable as a mated one? For God's sake!" He glowered down at her. "Do you think I was born stupid?"
She shook her head slowly, a smile trembling on her lips. "No. You weren't born stupid, Matthias."
"What about you?" he growled. "Could you forget Albrecht? Could you forgive what you saw for a life with me?"
She licked her lips slowly. "I understand why you did it. Why you feel you had to do it. Because of what he did to you and to those you knew, you would have had no choice."
But she couldn't face a life with him, never knowing who he would kill next, or why, or living with the fear that the day would come when he would make a mistake. That he would take an innocent life. No man was perfect, and eventually she feared, he would shed innocent blood. That she found too hard to accept.
"So I make this promise to give it up. It doesn't mean I won't continue to fight for Breed rights. I won't sit back and watch my people die without working to help them."
"I understand that."
"The least I can do is be an enforcer, an agent for the Bureau of Breed Affairs."
"I can handle that." She knew about the bureau and their work.
He nodded slowly. "Then come here, mate, take me."
Instantly, Matthias's expression transformed from pure self-assurance, to wicked, carnal arrogance. His lips became fuller, his gaze darker, his thick black lashes lowering as a hard flush stained his cheekbones.
The sensuality he had kept locked inside was finally free. It glittered in his eyes, turned them to dark, whiskey fire, as he watched, waited for her to come to him, for her to accept him.
Grace cleared her throat. "An aphrodisiac in your tongue, huh?"
His lips quirked with a decidedly anticipatory grin.
"Hot, uncontrolled sex?"
A growl rumbled in his throat.
"Well, in for a penny, in for a pound." She stepped to him, her hands sliding from his chest to his shoulders, as his head bent and her lips touched his.
There was no drugging sensation, only sweet, hot pleasure. His lips moved slowly over hers. They both learned the shape and texture of each other, held back, and relished this first touch.
Grace lifted one hand from his shoulder, her lashes lifting, so she could stare into his face with dazed fascination, as she touched his whiskered cheek.
He looked disreputable. Wild and bold. And he was all those things. But his gaze, though burning with arousal, was tender, his hands gentle as one threaded through her hair and the other gripped her hip.
"Like sunshine," he whispered against her lips. "That's how you taste, Grace."
Her lips parted, accepting his again, her tongue reaching out to lick at the harder curves of his. He jerked, his hands tightening on her, as he pulled back.
"Come on." He gripped her wrist and began striding quickly to the cabin.
"Wait." She stumbled along behind him. "What happened? What are you doing?"
"I refuse to take you outside," he snarled, moving up the steps to the porch. "We're going to the bedroom."
"Well, you could have kissed me properly, just once," she argued a bit peevishly. She had been waiting for that kiss.
"Once I get my tongue in your mouth we're both goners." He slammed the door behind them, set the security alarm on the doors and windows, and continued toward the bedroom.
As the bedroom door slammed behind him, he turned, wrapped his arm around her hips, and jerked her to him.
"Now," he groaned. "Sweet God in Heaven. Now!"
His lips descended on hers, parting them, making way for the stroke of his tongue and the spicy, heated taste of lust.
Grace had never imagined that lust had a taste, but it did. It was spicy hot, a hint of jalapeño and the taste of a tropical breeze. It was fine whiskey with an undertone of honey, and it was addictive. Once she had the first taste of him, she knew why he had hesitated to kiss her. Because she could never get enough. She wanted his kiss inside her forever.
Her lips surrounded his tongue, hers battled with his and suckled at it with delirious demand, arching in his arms. She moaned into his lips, felt his groan and his hands. Hands that pulled her clothes from her body. Hands that moved her fingers to the band of his pants.
She tore at the metal closures, releasing the band quickly, before sliding her hands inside to test the muscular contours of his sexy male ass.
"You taste good," she moaned, as his lips lifted from hers to lower her to the bed. "I need more."
"More is what you'll get."
He sat on the bed, jerked his boots off, then straightened and removed his leather pants. Of course, he went commando. No underwear. She wished he had worn underwear, she might have been better prepared for exactly how well endowed he was.
It wasn't so much the length, which was impressive, but he was thick, thicker than she had expected. Thicker than any other man she had ever taken.
Fascinated, she sat up on the bed, reaching out with a single fingertip to touch the throbbing head of his cock. Of course, it was pierced. A silver bar pierced the ridge of its head, the locking balls at each end glittering in the sunlight that slanted through the window. It matched the piercings in his left nipple and ear.
"Any reason for this?" she touched the curved silver lightly. Then her gaze was caught by the two rune tattoos inside his thighs. She knew those. Strength and wisdom. He was both.
"Later," he growled. "I'll explain it later."
Shadows flashed in his eyes, and she didn't want them there. She wanted the flaming arousal back in full force. She wanted all his attention on her.
Grace lowered her head, parted her lips, and let her tongue swipe over the damp crest, pausing to pay particular attention to the silver piercing. She rolled her tongue over it, gripped the small locking ball with her teeth, and tugged at it gently.
Matthias froze. But the shadows were gone. His expression was watchful now, dark with sensuality. Grace parted her lips further and slowly lowered her mouth onto the straining, engorged crest of his cock.
"Ah, fuck!" His groan was followed by a hard, powerful clench of his abdomen. A second later, it was Grace's turn to freeze.
That wasn't just pre-cum that spurted into her mouth, and it wasn't the consistency of semen. The taste was like that of his kiss, honey and spice, pure lust.