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She grinned. “Do you know how often I’ve daydreamed about moments like this with you?”

“Ha! See? I knew ye couldnae stop thinkin’ about me.” His grin deepened, smug and teasing.

She pinched his nipple in playful retaliation.

“Och, now, woman!” His palm landed on her bare bottom with a smart swat, and she yelped. But then he smoothed his hand over her backside, his touch gentle, caressing away the sting. “Nay harm in admittin’ it.”

“You’re a conceited arse,” she laughed, shaking her head.

That deep, velvety laughter rolled against her, warming her from the inside out. She shifted, her hips angling instinctively as a fluttering ache coiled low in her belly. The brush of her thigh against his semi-hard cock drew a guttural groan from him.

Broderick’s hand flattened against the small of her back, one finger curling to caress her tailbone with slow, deliberate circles. With a soft sigh, she arched her bottom to meet him, inviting his growing hunger. A growl fluttered up his throat in answer.

“I guess I’m not done with ye yet,” he rumbled, hooking his hand behind her knee and pulling her onto his lap.

Her eyes widened at the undeniable hardness pressing againsther slick folds. Bracing her palms on his chest, she lifted herself and slid her wet slit along the thick length of him, rocking her hips in a teasing rhythm.

Broderick’s eyes darkened to molten green as he caught her by the waist and lifted her higher. She grasped his shaft, guiding the broad head of his cock to her entrance. He helped her lower onto him, inch by aching inch, until she took him fully inside again.

“God’s blood,” he moaned, his hands gripping her hips. “Ye’ve ruined me, woman. Every time I touch ye, I only want more.”

Davina dropped her head back, riding him with abandon, her breath coming in shallow gasps. His deep, raw voice filled the chamber, wrapping around her soul like a dark spell, fending off the dread that coiled at the edges of her heart.

This night felt too perfect, too fragile—but for now, she would lose herself in him, in the storm of pleasure only he could summon.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Broderick lay on his back, staring at the ceiling of Davina’s chamber, his mind far from the contentment he should have felt. Her soft breaths warmed his chest, her body curled trustingly against his side, her silky cinnamon hair spilling over his arm. He lazily traced his finger over the delicate curve of her shoulder and down the smooth line of her spine, marveling at how fragile she felt beneath his touch. Yet, there was nothing fragile about Davina. She was strength wrapped in vulnerability, a woman who had endured more than most and still managed to fight back with every ounce of her will.

And now, she had given herself to him—mind, body, and soul. He had demanded it from her, believing that if she finally surrendered, if she stopped resisting him and let him in, he could conquer this primal, maddening need to possess her.

But instead, it had broken him.

Her surrender had unleashed something he hadn’t been prepared to face. It wasn’t just the challenge of claiming her, orthe thrill of the chase that had consumed him. It was her. The woman beneath the walls. The woman who had opened herself to him with such raw vulnerability that it cut through his defenses like a battle axe. It cleaved him in two and left him reeling, overwhelmed, and desperate for more.

Even now, touching her skin—skin still warm from their lovemaking—left his cock thick and wanting. If she didn’t need the rest he’d already denied her for hours, he would take her again, lose himself in the heaven he’d found in her arms. The scent of her, the feel of her, the sound of her husky voice whispering his name, was a torment he never wanted to end.

But what would she do once she knew the truth? Once she knew what he truly was?

Broderick’s jaw tightened, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as guilt gnawed at him. The truth was a dark, festering wound he could no longer ignore. He was a bloodthirsty monster, a creature who existed in a world caught between sunset and sunrise. He was no stranger to taking life—too many lives. The early days after his transformation had been a haze of carnage, a fight to control the insatiable Hunger that had nearly consumed him. Even now, those deaths haunted him.

Would Davina judge him for what he’d done? For the lives he’d taken? For the darkness inside him?

And what of Cailin? The sweetest wee bairn he’d ever set eyes on. Could a monster be a father? Could he shield her from the darkness and death that clung to his very existence? He had vowed to protect her, to keep her safe—but how could he protect her from himself? What if one day she saw the truth—the glowing silver of his eyes, the fangs he kept hidden, the lust for blood he could never truly escape? What if she looked at him with fear? What if she cowered in her own home because of him?

The thought twisted his heart into a tangled mess.

Dawn was approaching, and that presented another problem. Moving with the Romani people had allowed him to keep his lair hidden, constantly changing, to protect himself during the vulnerability of daylight. Here, in Davina’s castle, he would need to find a way to shield his true nature from her household staff. What would he do if they discovered the truth? What would she do?

His gaze dropped to Davina, still peacefully asleep in his arms. For once, the crease between her brows was gone, her features relaxed and serene. The subtle fear that always shadowed her sapphire eyes—the fear born of years of betrayal and hardship—shuttered behind her lush lashes, leaving her soft, vulnerable, and heartbreakingly beautiful.

Broderick kissed her brow, his lips lingering as if to memorize the feel of her skin and hugged her tighter against him. She stirred, a soft, contented moan slipping from her lips, and his cock twitched in response. Unconsciously, her hand smoothed down his stomach, brushing against him before curling around his shaft. She stroked him lazily, her touch gentle but maddening, then cupped his balls with a soft sigh.

Broderick groaned, deep and low, and caught her slender wrist in his grasp. “Enough of that, now,” he murmured, his voice rough and thick with restraint. “We’ve no’ the time for ye tae finish what ye’ve started.”

She smiled sleepily, lifting her head to meet his gaze, her hair tumbling over her bare shoulders like molten silk. “And why not?”

Her voice was husky, rich with the remnants of passion, and his resolve frayed under the weight of her allure.