'I'm sure,' she said as she obeyed his command, wanting what he wanted. Her ass was lifted, her elbows braced on the headboard, and Lucien sank a finger all the way inside her. She didn't feel the curse kick in at all, but she nearly came. She did cry out. Having a man be part of her, even in such a small way, while having his mouth suck at her, was the most erotic sensation she'd ever encountered.

'Oh, gods.'

'Like?'

'Love.'

'More?'

'Oh, please.'

Another finger joined the first, stretching her. His tongue never stopped working her clit. The decadence. The magnificence. Her hips were writhing of their own accord. She couldn't have stopped them upon threat of death. He'd pleasured her before, but this, oh, this…

'Lucien, Lucien,' she chanted. Her head fell back, hair tickling her back. 'Love you. So much.'

'Can you take me? All of me?'

'Yes. Please.' She gasped in bliss. Lightning shivers danced through her.

'I have to be inside you.' His voice was rough, scratchy. 'To the hilt.' He pulled from her and tugged her down.

She mourned the loss of his naughty fingers until the tip of his erection found the opening of her sheath. He gripped her, holding her steady. She stared down at him, her hair a pale curtain around them.

'You are mine,' he said, peering up at her, gazes locking together. He caressed her cheek.

'Always.'

'I love you.'

'I love you so much.' He looked so beautiful to her. Still cut and bruised from battle, still a little weak but fueled by desire. For her.

'Sure you want this?'

'More than anything.' And she did. She belonged to this man, now and forever.

'Mine,' he said again, and surged all the way inside her.

A white light erupted between them, powerful, nearly blinding in its intensity. Anya cried out as her curse was unleashed, a sound that blended with Lucien's roar. She felt as if part of her soul had been ripped from deep inside and replaced with…a part of Lucien's?

Yes, yes. Lucien. Dark, savage. Wonderful, amazing. Purring inside her mind. There was a sharp ache between her legs, too, gone as quickly as it arrived, and then he was buried deep, so deep, and she was riding him. Slowly at first, savoring every new sensation. Then faster…faster…

'Good?' he managed to croak.

'Don't stop. Don't stop!'

'Never.'

She twined their hands and pinned them over his head, leaning down and taking his breath, making him more a part of her. Making him every part of her. Sex was so much more than she'd ever imagined—and gods, had she imagined—because it was with Lucien.

I'm glad I waited. So glad.

Giving herself to him was not a curse, it was a blessing.

'Worth the wait,' she told him, then delved her tongue into his mouth.

Their tongues battled in sync with their lower bodies. Pumping, pounding, sliding. The pleasure was building inside her, intense and combustible. He was so big, so thick and hard. So hers.

Almost there. So good, so good. The piece of heaven on earth she'd always craved. Filled completely, no longer empty. Part of something far greater than herself as he rocked inside her. 'Lucien,' she screamed, suddenly climaxing.

Everything inside her shattered, the most intense orgasm of her life ripping through her. She shuddered, her muscles clenching deliciously and locking down on his cock.

And as her inner walls milked him, he came, spurting inside her hotly. 'Anya,' he roared. 'My Anya.' He raised his hips, slamming as high and deep as he could possibly go.

Another climax immediately caught fire and raged through her, making her mindless for seconds, an eternity, drenching her in satisfaction, triumph and joy. Lucien was hers, truly hers, and she was his.

They were bonded, and she was glad.

As her spasms faded, she collapsed on top of him, a single thought registering in her mind: his skin was no longer black and blue, but tan and healthy.

She was grinning as she fell asleep.

LUCIEN DOZED ON AND OFF for several hours, a sleeping, sated Anya never far from his side, even when Death called him into the spirit realm. Lucien took Anya with him, cuddled in his arms. She hadn't awakened, though she'd managed to remain on her feet with him as her anchor. He thought perhaps she was truly relaxed for the first time in thousands of years, no longer worried about being attacked, captured or raped, and was finally catching up on her sleep.

Right now they were back in bed and one of his hands cupped her breast, the other draped over her stomach. For the first time in his life, he was utterly content, at peace. He wanted to stay here forever. Hold her forever. To protect her, however, he could do neither.

He planned to contact the other warriors, tell them about Anya and instruct them to care for her if he failed to find the Cage of Compulsion in time. How he hated the word. Failed. It meant Cronus still had power over him. Meant he would die. Something he was prepared and willing to do, though he did not want Anya grieving eternally for him.

'We have to go back to the mountain,' he said, the words echoing through the room.

Lucien's chest constricted as Anya moaned and her eyelids slowly opened. 'Not yet,' she grumbled, her voice sleep-rich and sexy.

'We must. No telling what William is doing up there. You have his book. He might be looking for a way to hurt you.'

Rumpled and groggy, she inched up, silky hair tumbling down her bare shoulders. Gods, he loved her. For her sake, he should have pushed her away. He should not have penetrated that tight, hot sheath. But he could not make himself regret it. She'd given herself to him freely, completely.

'You're right, no telling what he's doing.' Anya stretched like a contented cat. Buried under the thick covers as they were, their skin was slicked with sweat and she slid against him. 'How do you feel?' she asked huskily.

'Better. The bullet popped out and the hole closed.' He caressed her cheek. 'Thank you for the gifts of your love and your body.'

'Oh, anytime.'

'Are you sorry?' What if she had bound herself to his demon, as well? Gods. The thought horrified him.

'Hell, no!' She rolled onto her stomach, folded her arms and rested her cheek on her wrist. She peered over at him, more love than he'd ever seen in the blue depths of her eyes. 'I'm, like, crazy-happy. That was absolutely, utterly, unbelievably, I'm-king-of-the-world amazing. But I know what you're thinking, and you can stop. Your demon can't get enough of me, and I have a thing for bad boys. Sure we don't have time for one more round? We could have a three-way. You, me and the demon.'

What had he ever done to deserve her? 'I am sure.'

Pouting, she lumbered out of bed to dress. 'Well, for future reference we need to get it on at least twice a day.'

'No. That, I will not agree to. We must get it on four times a day.'

That earned a soft chuckle from her.

Enchanted, he sat up. 'Have you ever seen the Cage of Compulsion?'

As she tugged on her pants—surely it was a crime to cover such beautiful legs—she said, 'No, but if I'm remembering my history lessons correctly, Cronus had Hephaistos the blacksmith make it for him because he had heard rumors of a coming insurrection and hoped to force battle plans and truths out of the beings he placed inside.'

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