Shadow's Claim

All she needed was his bite, emblazoned on her skin. No, ignore these forbidden thoughts! Think only of mating her. He could scent her desire. She needs to be mated.

With that idea in mind, he snatched off her skirt, leaving her in only her mask, her jewels, and those leather boots.

“Oh! P-please go easy.” She swallowed audibly. “This is about as far as I’ve ever been before.”

A virgin! Misgivings arose. How young was she?

Yet she didn’t attempt to cover herself. Any lingering doubts dwindled when she gave a needy whimper, spurring him on.

Must prepare her body. A virgin would need extra care. He supposed. Never been with one. He couldn’t remember bed play before her, seemed to have forgotten anything he’d learned in his youth.

He dipped one hand, glancing his palm up her supple thigh.

“Yes,” she sighed, “oh, yes. You’ve made me ache here.” Her knees fell wide open for him, spreading her slick, blushing folds, and one thought arose: She is o comoara, a treasure. My treasure.

Soon he’d be buried to the hilt inside that lush heat. His cock pulsed in readiness. Pre-semen beaded the crown, dampening the front of his pants.

Again her fingers skimmed across his waist, back and forth before sliding lower behind the material. Just as he reached between her legs, she worked her hand into his pants.

Her soft palm gripped him; he cupped her hot sex.

He gave a curt, shocked yell, almost coming spontaneously; she moaned with abandon.

Even as he reveled in her wetness, her touch jolted him—nimble fingers clutching at his shaft, gently tugging. The foreign sensation drove his hips forward for more.

He could feel her swollen little clitoris budding beneath the heel of his palm; her dizzying scent made him crazed to taste her there.

Then her hand started to move on him. “It feels so . . . amazing,” she said in a tone filled with wonder.

She’d never even touched a cock before? Amid all the turmoil he felt, tenderness arose for his sweetly innocent mate.

But then she squeezed it, murmuring, “My darling, I need this inside me ever so badly.”

Too much! Seed climbed until the pressure grew agonizing. He was about to come, would never last as he sank his length inside her virgin sheath and took her maidenhead.

“Stroke me,” he commanded her. He would get this out of the way, then see to her pleasure all night. Claiming her repeatedly.

She hesitated, then tentatively rubbed his shaft from hilt to tip, and again. As he petted her quivering flesh, he grew mindless, unable to stop himself from fucking her hand with short pumps of his hips.

His testicles tightened. His cockhead swelled. He knew he had only a second before he ejaculated for the first time in centuries. Two choices. Rip down his pants—or raise his wetted fingers from her sex to his lips.

The latter won. As he sucked her cream from his fingers, he groaned around them, beginning to spill into her hand.

Chapter 5

Bettina had been lost in this experience, awash in every unfamiliar sensation and sound.

Cas’s increasingly desperate groans. The heat of his skin as it slickened with sweat. His measured thrusts giving way to frenzy, until he was grinding against her fist.

Then something spurted over her hand. Hot. Liquid. Her eyes flashed open.

Semen?

Cas gave a deep bellow, his mighty body jerking as jet after jet of his seed erupted. How was this possible?

Could I have wrung this from him? Her brief flare of happiness was doused by confusion. No, he couldn’t produce it, not until he’d had sex with his mate. Certainly not outside of her.

Had he already found his female and broken that seal, only to be untrue to his fated one? Had he lied to Bettina?

Once he’d emptied himself, once the violent shudders had subsided, he collapsed atop her with a satisfied grunt, nuzzling her neck. When she tugged her moist hand from his pants, he reached for his ripped shirt, using the tail to wipe away his come before tossing the garment away.

Which she supposed was considerate?

Then his fingers returned between her legs. She gasped when his thumb circled her clitoris, his other fingers teasing her opening. When she felt his erection already growing against her hip, that smoldering desire mounted even stronger than before, momentarily erasing all misgivings.

She’d gone her entire life without this kind of pleasure; why did it feel so critical to her now? Her body relaxed, her legs helplessly spreading for more of his caresses.

“Ah, my wanton little sorceress”—his heated words fanned over her ear, making her nipples pucker against his damp chest—“you are a treasure.” Still lazily petting her, he began to kiss down her body, grazing his lips over her collarbone, then between her breasts. “Now let me attend to you.”

Even as she trembled with delight, she wondered why Cas’s voice sounded so raspy. Just from his arousal? And was he talking about licking her down there? The idea excited Bettina—but why wouldn’t he claim her? “Don’t you want to make love to me now?”

Finish line . . . so close.

“Soon. But I’ve had a sample of your taste, dragă mea, maddening me. First I feast. . . .”

That did not sound like Cas—

But his warm breaths over her navel felt so good, made her shake with eagerness. “C-Cas?”

The male tensed, cursing in a language she’d never heard. “What did you say?” He rose up above her and pinched her chin hard.

She began to sober up as panic raced through her. “You’re not Caspion!” she cried, shoving at his chest.

Red flags had arisen before, but she’d been a slave to her senses, to the pleasure radiating outward from his every kiss, his every stroke. She’d assured herself that his voice was desire-roughened or that she was simply drunk.

“Caspion?” he grated. “So that is the way of it? You believed I was another when you gave yourself so freely!” He captured her wrists in one fist.

“Release me!” she ordered as she fought to get free. “Who are you?” She couldn’t see, but she could feel tension rolling off him, could hear the rage in his voice. Violence would follow.

Just like before.

Confusion rocked her, that familiar terror arising. She’d learned all too well how vulnerable her body was to attack!

Why does this keep happening to me? Tears welled. She whispered, “N-not again.” But he wasn’t listening.

Between gritted teeth, he said, “I am Prince Trehan Cristian Daciano. And you are my woman.” Pinning her arms above her head, he vowed, “After tonight, little Bride, you will never mistake me for another again. . . .”

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