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I’m going to taste you again. Take you to the end this time. Finally he kissed her between her legs, flicking his tongue against the damp fabric of her panties.

Her hips shot up, and she cried out uninhibitedly. “Yes!”

You’re going to give me everything.

“Ye—no.” She undulated, seeking more of his mouth. “I can’t.”

I know. But soon.

“Soon. Yes, soon.”

With that promise ringing in his ears, he ripped the material away and feasted on her. At the first true glide of his tongue, she screamed with absolute abandon. He tasted her femininity and those frosted apricots he’d scented the night they met. He’d thought himself on fire before, but this…this burned him alive.

His cock filled to the point of bursting, and he ground himself into the hard floor, pumping as if he were already inside his woman. She tugged at his hair, not to pull him away but to urge him on.

He licked inside her, feeling those tight walls close around his tongue. He sucked and swallowed, laved and flicked at her clitoris. Soon she wasn’t just writhing, she was making love to his mouth, moving against him, legs finding their way to his shoulders, heels digging into his back.

Hands over your head, he commanded, and he was immensely glad he could speak into her mind, that he didn’t have to stop what he was doing.

“Wh-why?”

Do it.

Hesitantly she released him and drew her arms high.

Clasp the rock behind you.

This time she obeyed without question.

Don’t let go. He grabbed her thighs, lifted, and twisted her so that she faced the ground. Twisted himself, too, ramming himself beneath her, but still between her legs. Her body fell back on him, her core directly over his face. Her grip on the rock kept her from smashing face-first into the petals, but didn’t save her from the increase of pressure his mouth caused as his tongue sank deeper than before.

“Oh, God. Amun!” Tremors rocked her, vibrating into him.

So wet. So perfect.

“Amun. Please, more, need, want.”

With one hand, he clasped her hip. With the other, he stroked his cock. And as he worked her, he worked himself, pretending they were making love. She pumped against him, up and down, her essence all over his face, and he matched her with the movement of his hand.

So damned good. Had he ever experienced something this good? Impossible.

“Hurry! Have to…almost…need…”

Him. She only needed him. He released her hip and reached under her, never ceasing his carnal attentions. On either of them. Feverish, he impaled her with two fingers.

Tight. She was so tight. And as he slammed those fingers deep, so deep, she convulsed around him, pulling him even deeper.

“There!” she shouted, the climax razing her voice as every muscle she possessed clamped down, trying to hold him inside.

Feeling her spasm around him sent him over the edge. He erupted, hot seed jetting onto his stomach. And when the last of the shudders left her, when the last drop of come was squeezed from him, she rose on her knees, panting, severing that intimate contact. They moaned in unison at the loss.

She scooted down his chest and collapsed atop him. Though his first thought was to clean them both, he couldn’t bring himself to move her. His arms wound around her, and he held on, knowing he would never be able to let her go.

His head was (somewhat) clear, so he couldn’t blame desire for the possessiveness. She was his. Now…always.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

FOR HOURS, HAIDEE AND AMUN alternated between sleeping, eating, kissing and talking, careful not to mention their pasts, their circumstances or their future. They were just a man and a woman, their hands never far from each other. Through it all, Haidee remained in a state of bliss, joyful in a way she knew she couldn’t afford.

For her, joy never lasted.

This joyful stretch ended when Amun released her to build a campfire—and didn’t return to her side. He fiddled with the backpack, then pulled out two robes, his motions rigid.

Angel robes, he said (just as rigidly). Without looking back at her, he placed the white one at her side. The material will clean you. It’ll even untangle your hair when you lift the hood.

A simple robe could do all that? Wow. “Thank you.”

Welcome, he said as he tugged the material over his head. And damn if the dirt smudges on the back of his neck didn’t disappear. Now, we do what needs doing.

“You mean, now we play the quiet game?”

Among other things.

This formality…how she hated it.

He had given her the sweetest, most agonizing orgasm of her life, playing her body in a way that conquered all doubt, all inhibition. Passion had filled her so inexorably, she hadn’t been able to hold it all inside. She had erupted, barely managing to temper the ice. Her body was now so hyperaware of this man that the ache, the need for him, never left her. Constantly her stomach quivered and her skin tingled.

His name might not be tattooed on her arm, but she was nonetheless branded by him.

While they’d touched, there’d been no hesitation on his part. That had astonished her. He hadn’t withheld pleasure, hadn’t whisked her to the brink and walked away, leaving her empty, hollowed. Even though he’d been angry with her. No, he’d been almost…reverent as he’d caressed her, as if they were lovers in every sense of the word rather than enemies.

She didn’t want to be his enemy. Not now, not ever again. But she could think of no way to repair the damage she’d done to him. He hadn’t killed her family, another demon had. He wasn’t the one who had killed her husband, she was almost positive of that. Another demon must have. Probably one of his friends. Still, it was Amun she had punished, taking someone he loved from him.

She hated herself for that. Wished she could go back. Wished she had never walked into her husband’s bedroom that fateful night. The night everything had changed for her. But she couldn’t and she had, and she hoped that maybe, just maybe, she could make Amun understand the pain she had experienced. That wouldn’t be enough to earn his forgiveness, but perhaps it would offer an absolution she wouldn’t find otherwise.

Sighing, Haidee donned the robe. Only a few seconds later, she realized Amun hadn’t done the thing justice. A bar of soap hadn’t touched her, but as the material settled over her, she’d never felt cleaner. Amazing!

Her gaze returned to him. He was peering into the flames. He should have looked like a monk, but even draped by the shapeless cloth as he was, he looked wicked and sensual and so damn powerful.

He’d mentally distanced himself, but she didn’t let that stop her. She settled in front of him, trying not to tremble. He didn’t spare her a glance, but reached inside the backpack and withdrew an apricot.

“I’d like you to do something for me,” she said. “Think of it as an extension of the quiet game.”

He had been in the process of biting into the fruit. His hand stilled and at last he faced her, his dark eyes wary. Can it wait? We’ve been here too long. We need to leave.

Suddenly he was in a hurry? Hardly. “No. We have to do this now.” If they waited, she might lose her nerve.

He nodded stiffly. Very well.

Haidee squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “You’ve seen a small piece of my wedding night. Will you…will you now watch the rest?”