The Scribe

He nudged her shoulder with his own. “Then don’t be stubborn. Go.”

Fifteen minutes and another glass of wine later, Ava knocked on his door. Malachi opened it, holding a towel. He’d showered, and a few drops of water still clung to his tanned shoulders. He wore a pair of loose pants and a guarded expression.

“What do you want?”

“I kissed Rhys.”

Now she knew she wasn’t imagining it. The tattoos pulsed silver in the dim light of the hall. Ava forced her eyes back to Malachi’s face, which was locked down tight. Only a tic in his jaw told Ava her words had even been heard.

His voice was low and thick with tension. “Get that out of your system?”

“Felt a little like kissing my brother.”

He dropped the towel and tugged her into the room. “This won’t.”

Chapter Thirteen

With one hand, he pulled her into the room, and with the other, Malachi slammed the door shut. He tugged her into his chest and captured her lips with his own. Desire roared through his body, thick with tension after two hundred years of fasting and a lifetime of waiting. For her. For Ava.

Reshon.

Malachi knew as he held her. He could feel the power pulsing through his talesm, the bare skin over his heart aching to be marked by Ava’s magic. He could feel it singing over her skin, her touch igniting the fierce passion he’d buried for so long.

Backing Ava against the door, he curled his body over hers, bracing his arms on either side of her head, forcing her to look into his eyes.

“Do you want this? Say so now.” He dangled on the edge of forever. All he needed was a word.

He saw the edges of doubt cloud her eyes, but behind it was a desperate hunger that mirrored his own. He pressed closer.

“Do you want me, Ava?”

Malachi saw her mouth form the word before he heard it. “Yes.”

His control snapped.

Reaching down, he gripped her hips, lifting her against his chest as Ava wrapped her legs around his waist. A fierce possessiveness overtook him as Malachi pressed her against the wall and ravaged her mouth. He held her with one arm while the other tugged at the back of her hair, baring her neck to his kisses. He inhaled the heat of her skin as he trailed his tongue up the line of her throat, pausing to press a gentle kiss at her neck where he could feel her voice hum.

“More,” she whispered.

“Yes.”

“I need… Malachi—”

“I know.” Groaning with desire, he swung her around and walked across the room. “Bed.”

It was small, barely fitting his own tall frame, but it would have to do. He’d find more fitting accommodations later, but for now Ava was tearing at her clothes as he carried her, as desperate for contact as he was. He could feel the heat of her arms branding him. Feel the draw of energy as if touching a live wire. He lay her down and slid next to her, suddenly aware of the manic energy that hummed underneath her skin. It took everything in him to cage his own desire and think of her.

“Ava.” He took a deep breath and pressed a hand over her heart, halting the fingers that were fumbling with the buttons. “Ava, wait.”

She stopped, eyes narrowing. “You better not be backing out of this. If you’ve got some noble idea about being cautious or taking things slow—”

“Be quiet and let me undress you, woman.” His low growl shocked Ava out of her anger. “I’ve been thinking about this for over two hundred years.”

Brushing her hands away, he slipped open the first button, and Ava watched with wide eyes as he bent down and kissed the newly bare skin. A single finger trailed from her neck down, leaving a faint gold trail in its wake. Malachi traced a calming spell over her skin and felt her pulse stop racing. The urgency was still there, but as the magic took hold, the frantic energy was drawn into his own body, feeding his passion as he slowly stoked hers.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, slipping another button open. His lips tasted again as he trailed another charm between her breasts. His tongue followed the gold letters that bloomed there, and Ava’s back arched in silent pleasure.

“Malachi…”

“Tell me what you’re feeling,” he whispered. “I want to hear.”

“Hot.”

“Yes?” He flicked open another button, spreading her shirt and flicking open the lace that bound her breasts.

“Aches… Keep touching me. Don’t stop.”

“Never.” Her skin bared to his eyes, Malachi stopped for a moment to stare. With a groan, he closed his mouth over one sensitive peak as Ava clutched the hair on the back of his head. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the taste of her. The salty bite of her skin and the lingering scent she wore intoxicated him. He would never get enough.

“Too much!” she finally gasped. “It’s too much.”

“Shhh.” He soothed her, laying his forehead in the smooth valley between her breasts. He forced his mouth away from her skin as his fingers made quick work of the rest of her shirt. Slipping it off, he took a moment to gaze at the beauty spread before him.

Ava’s skin still glowed with the traces of magic he’d written over her heart. A small bruise was forming on the rise of her left breast where his mouth had taken her skin. Malachi forced back the urge to mark her. There would be time. For her, he had eternity.

Shaking his head in wonder, he said, “For you? It is never too much.”

“Faster,” she urged.

“No.” He bent his head again, fighting back his own desire to take and claim and spend himself in the cradle of her body. He loosened the button of her jeans before he slid them down over her legs. Each newly revealed limb received the attention of his lips. His fingers. Magic flowed between them. He could feel her energy and smiled, knowing one day she would mark him too.

“When you find your power,” he murmured in her ear as he stretched out beside her on the narrow bed, “you will sing to me. And I will feel your magic as you feel mine.”

“Is that what I’m feeling?” she said with a smile, throwing one leg over his thigh and pulling him closer. “That’s a lot of magic.”

He grinned, pleased by the laughter in her eyes.

“Ava,” he whispered again. “Reshon.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I can hear you. Inside. All I hear is you.”

He stilled his hands. “And what do I sound like?”

“Perfect,” she choked out. “You sound… perfect.”

He saw the tears forming, so he came to her, knowing there was no pleasure she could ask for that he would not give. He ran a hand from the nape of her neck, down her spine, picturing the spells he would mark her with. Spells to strengthen her. Claim her. Mark her as his mate as she would mark him as hers.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“You.”

Now it was his breath that was coming faster as she reached down and took him in her hand. His head fell