Page 17

FENELLA

L ifting on straightened arms, Din gazed into Fenella's eyes as he pulled out, and then pushed back into her with deliberate slowness that made her want to scream.

With his fangs fully elongated and his eyes blazing like twin flames in the dimness of the room, he looked magnificent, a little scary perhaps, but the love shining in his eyes counterbalanced the alien appearance.

The contrast between the predator and the lover fascinated her. It was a duality that probably existed in all immortals, but she had only experienced it with Din.

This powerful immortal male was in love with her.

How lucky could a girl get?

To think of herself as fortunate was so foreign to Fenella that she almost laughed.

She'd always thought of herself as unlucky, even cursed.

Fifty years of running, of looking over her shoulder, of never staying in one place long enough to see the seasons change, hadn't been good to her.

The trouble she'd gotten herself into hadn't been good either, and then the doctor was the ultimate bad luck.

He was the definition of that. It followed her like a dark shadow that had never let go.

But she shouldn't allow dark thoughts to distract her from this goodness.

Not when Din was looking at her like she was precious beyond measure, like she was worth waiting fifty years for. The intensity of his gaze made her chest tight with emotions she wasn't ready to name.

It was too tempting to say the words to him now, to tell him that she loved him back as much as he loved her, but something inside of her pushed against it, a self-preservation instinct that was misfiring.

The words lodged in her throat like shards of glass, beautiful and dangerous and impossible to speak.

Perhaps it was part of her PTSD. Her fight-or-flight response had never left, and her body was still convinced that she was fighting for survival.

Even here, safe in the village, protected by immortals and gods and technology beyond human comprehension, some part of her remained that terrified woman who'd learned that attachment meant vulnerability, and vulnerability meant a fate worse than death.

She could show Din, though. Use her body to let him know the love was there, but it was trapped, too afraid to emerge.

Her body had always been more honest than her words anyway.

It couldn't lie, couldn't deflect with humor or sarcasm.

When Din touched her, when he moved inside her like this, her body told him everything her mouth couldn't.

Heart swelling with emotion that she refused to verbalize, Fenella lifted to meet Din's increasingly hard thrusts. Each movement was a wordless declaration, each gasp a confession she couldn't voice.

"Yes, love, just like this," he praised, his Scottish accent thickening with arousal.

The endearment made her eyes burn with unshed tears.

Love .

He called her love so easily, so naturally, as if she'd always been his love, even during those fifty lost years. Maybe she had been. Maybe that's what true love was—not just the feeling, but the waiting, the hoping, the never quite giving up.

Wrapping her arms around him, she brought his chest down to hers, skin to skin, and the feeling of closeness was incredible.

She could feel his heart hammering against her breast, matching the wild rhythm of her own.

This was what she'd been missing all those years of empty encounters and lonely mornings.

Not just the physical connection, but this meeting of souls that transcended the mere joining of bodies.

For a few moments, they rocked together like that, gentle despite the growing urgency between them.

She breathed him in, that unique scent that was purely Din, mixed with arousal and the faint lingering trace of the cologne he'd worn to Kalugal's brunch.

She wanted to memorize it, to carry it with her always, a sensory memory to chase away the nightmares that still plagued her sleep.

Din lifted his head, and the expression on his face changed from reverent and loving to possessive, almost savage. The shift sent a thrill through her that started at the base of her spine and radiated outward like lightning.

The apex predator emerged, but she wasn't afraid of him because he was hers.

The thought should have terrified her. Once, it would have sent her running.

But now she reveled in it, in the knowledge that all that power, all that strength, was leashed by his love for her.

He could break her so easily, could take whatever he wanted, but instead he gave and gave and gave some more.

She was ready for the wild ride that she knew was coming. She craved Din fully unleashed, needed to feel the depth of his passion, his control finally slipping.

When he guided her arms over her head and threaded his fingers through hers, she closed her eyes and surrendered completely. The position left her vulnerable, exposed, unable to touch him or control the pace.

Once, that would have panicked her. Now, it felt like freedom.

This was so good. So right. So everything she'd never known she needed.

With a groan that seemed to come from the depths of his soul, he pinned their entwined hands to the mattress, and the tempo and power of his thrusts increased. The bed creaked beneath them, a rhythmic counterpoint to their ragged breathing.

Fenella was powerless to do more than receive the pounding. Even lifting to meet him halfway was impossible because he was driving into her with such incredible force. Each thrust pushed her higher, closer to that edge she could feel approaching like a storm on the horizon.

The coil deep in her belly was winding up again, another explosive climax building up momentum. She could feel it gathering, tightening, threatening to snap at any moment.

"Din," she groaned as the tightness became unbearable. "I need…" She didn't know what to ask for. Release? More? Him? Everything?

He seemed to understand without words. He always did. His lips found her throat, and she felt him inhale deeply, scenting her arousal, her need, her unspoken love.

Hissing against her neck, he flicked his tongue over the spot he was going to sink his fangs into. The wet heat of it made her shiver, anticipation mixing with arousal, a cocktail that left her dizzy. He adjusted his grip, locking her head between their joined hands, immobilizing her for his bite.

The position was primal, possessive, and it spoke to something deep in her, some ancient recognition of claiming and being claimed.

A split moment later, she felt his seed explode into her, hot and urgent, and the sharp burn of twin incisions piercing her neck.

The pain was fleeting, instantly transformed into pleasure so intense it left her breathless.

The coil sprang free, and an orgasm crashed over her even before the first drop of venom entered her system.

When it did, she climaxed again, and again, each wave more intense than the last, until she couldn't tell where one ended and the next began. She was drowning in sensation, in pleasure, in the overwhelming rightness of being in Din's arms, being loved by him, being his.