“Why . . . ?” Her voice was breathy. “Why do you like me tied like this? I won’t try to get away.”

“You know why, Elisa. It’s in your mind, and it’s why it makes you wet. Tell me why. I want to hear it from those distracting lips of yours.”

They parted as she moistened them. “You want me . . . helpless. Owned. Yours. You want me . . . overcome with these feelings, beyond thought.”

He nodded. “Now hush. And feel.”

He’d left the bedroom door open. Kohana could come down the hall, or anyone who came into the house. She could be seen like this, stretched on the bed, legs spread for his pleasure, breasts bare. He’d seen her gaze drift to that open door, and knew it was a worry in her mind, but it was something else, too. She didn’t want to acknowledge it, modest thing that she was, but it excited her, in a deep, dark place. It was a statement on what she was becoming. It didn’t mean he was cheaply using her and not caring who saw her naked and vulnerable. Instead, it was a way of underscoring her value that most wouldn’t understand, but she did.

Danny and Dev had plowed that ground for her. A vampire female had exceptional hearing, so he knew the times Elisa had stumbled on the two of them, she’d been allowed to see what she saw. While others might look if Danny desired them to do so, no one was allowed to touch Dev unless she said it was all right. Elisa understood it enough to remember that now, and revel in the idea she could be that . . . essential.

Essential was the perfect word for it, because if the whole island started to sink into the sea right now, he wouldn’t have stopped. The only thing that could have accomplished that was if he saw a true rejection of this in her mind. But instead, while the waters were fraught with hazards and the possibility of regrets, she was riding the crest of the wave far above that, accepting what fate would give them in the future, and taking the now.

He stood above her, the one knee planted between her legs as he studied her, from thighs to throat. Up to the flushed face and desirebright eyes, the long, thick lashes and pretty wings of hair around her face. Her one foot was braced against his calf, toes curled against denim. The other foot dangled, shin brushing the side of his leg. The longer he looked, the more she trembled, and the thicker the scent of her arousal became, such that he saw the tempting cream gather on those nether lips beneath the tiny brown curls. A drop began to slide down toward the crease of her buttocks, making his fangs lengthen and saliva gather in his mouth.

Please . . . Please, Master.

It was unconscious, the plea in her mind, since she was trying not to speak, picking up on his demand that she be still and quiet, surrendering to whatever it was he wanted from her right now. That subliminal plea swept fire through him, particularly as her lashes lowered, emphasizing that surrender and yet lingering over his chest and abdomen, past his belt and then down to the arousal clearly pressing against his jeans. All for her.

Kneeling on the floor between her dangling legs, he cupped her buttocks to slide her forward to his mouth. When only his breath touched her cunt, she cried out, an involuntary whimper, and he saw the tiny muscles flex, the clit ripple. A pure, perfect new drop of honey formed as a result. He licked it away, dipping inside briefly, and she shuddered, giving another delectable whimper.

I’ll give you the third mark here, Irish flower, so that you’ll remember it each time your thighs brush together.

Her response was incoherent acquiescence, a sweet, wordless song to him. He kept up that slow lick, teasing her lips, the clit, the weeping gateway that would be stretching to accommodate his cock before this was done. He could hear the rush of blood in the femoral, so close, but he wanted the taste and scent of her orgasm on his mouth when he finally turned his mouth to that. She was quivering so hard in his grasp, trying so hard not to move, because she knew that was what he liked . . . usually.

You may move, Elisa. Buck against my hold, work those hips against my mouth, show me how you become under my touch, the way you are with no one else.

The way I alone want to make you feel. He didn’t share that unexpected thought. But he didn’t have to dwell on it, because she obeyed like a wild bird freed from a cage, her body surging up against his mouth, her restricted arms tensing, fingers digging into the bed as she undulated up, her breasts wobbling back toward her throat as her body became a crescent of need, all reaching for him. As she fought his irresistible hold, showing that delicious female conflict that always existed in the grip of pleasure—the need to pull away and yet be as close as possible—he teased her clit with more insistent lashes of his tongue. Her climax surged upward, and she was trying to resist it, but he wouldn’t allow that, either.

He watched with eternal fascination as her breath became short puffs, almost like a woman in labor, and then she was making short cries, one right on top of another, staccato notes that rushed up a hill she couldn’t escape.

Go over now, Elisa. Obey me.

Muscles and nerves stretched to their limit and her cunt contracted hard against his mouth, a small spurt of sweet liquid gushing onto his tongue. A scream tore from her throat, building in volume he wouldn’t allow to diminish as he kept working her with his mouth. Plunging his tongue in hard and fast now, he sucked that tight bud, moving his lips over her in a random motion that kept the nerves straining to keep up, feeling the sensation everywhere so it wouldn’t ebb.

He brought his fingers into play, taking over for his mouth as he turned it to her thigh, sinking his fangs into that pounding artery. Her cry escalated, her arms beating against the mattress, hands clawing the covers such that she had handfuls of the fabric crushed in it. Her lush backside was off the mattress, working her pussy up against his fingers. As her blood filled his mouth, he released that final serum, felt it swirl away into her, rushing for her heart and that deep place science said didn’t physically exist in the human body. Vampires had always known it did.

The soul was the true image of divinity, because it was everywhere and nowhere, what gave life and spark, but was never fully defined or understood in its plan or desires, its needs and demands. Every living thing had it. To deny it was to deny whatever God was and reject miracles like this, simple and unfathomably complicated at once.

Her pleasure overcame her such that the other leg wrapped over his back, holding him tight to her, her soul reaching for him. He took the precious extra moment to seal the wound, then came up her body, sliding her thigh back to his side, fingers leaving a firm imprint.

Her eyes were so feverish and needy. If there was such a thing as Heaven, it would be her, always like this, completely connected to him, her naked body still shuddering in the aftermath of the ecstasy he’d given her, her eyes fastened on him in total concentration.

He opened his jeans, freeing his cock from the painful confinement. Her hungry gaze only made it jerk in further need, almost making him wince. He needed to release into her, relieve this intense pressure, that pussy clasping him with blissful friction. But first . . .

He could have her bite him, but he knew his gentle maid. Even in her most ferocious moment he doubted she would be able to bring herself to pierce his flesh. So he drew the blade he carried at his nowundone belt. He paused, considering, and then took it to his throat, a short, practiced slice. He could have chosen the wrist, but he knew what he wanted, and from the flicker in her gaze, he knew she wanted it, too.

He came down on her, staying clothed to underscore his dominance over her, but later he would stretch out on her, flesh against flesh, not denying either of them that mutual pleasure.

She’d forced her body to quivering stillness, his intuitive almostservant, awaiting his desires. He adjusted himself, took hold of the base of his organ, so close to explosion it jerked even from the clasp of his hand, but then he fitted it to her opening, giving a muted, heartfelt groan. She was so soaking wet he sank like a heavy stone to the bottom of a warm pond.

Curling his arm around her shoulders, he cupped her head with his palm, bringing her to his throat. “Drink, sweet girl,” he murmured. “Become my full servant.”

He’d heard about it from others, but he’d also heard, time and again, that no words could fully describe it, like most things that mattered more than anything else. Her lips touched the spot, then closed over it, the tip of her tongue taking a delicate sip. Then her instincts kicked in, already goaded and directed by that third mark, such that she began suckling, drinking deep, taking in the amount needed to finish it.

It was like a shower of starlight, rushing through his veins. They elongated into barbed streams of light that wound through her, binding her to him. For the second mark, her mind had been open to him, but now he realized how superficial interpreting her mind had been. In a plane, one could explore the sky above the earth. But this was a rocket, giving him the ability to see the whole galaxy, plunging him into an infinite variety of unexplored areas, following that barbed chain of stars wherever they might lead.

It frightened her a little. Even as he was amazed by it, he sensed her hesitation at the unexpected invasion. Suddenly, in her deepest places, even those she had trouble facing herself, another being could share that space, be there whenever he chose. He murmured to her, even as he sent her the thought.

I will not harm you, Elisa. I’ll protect you, keep you safe. I’m holding you within and without, always.

It was instinct, no plan, nothing weighed against reality or whatever their future might be, but it was truth for him in this second, so fiercely felt he wasn’t sure if it wasn’t actual forever fact. Beyond his understanding, but no less true for all that. She felt it, accepted it, resumed her teasing at his throat. He withdrew partially from her, then slid back in, let her feel another form of claiming now, one that had her hands seeking a purchase at his hips, trying to hold on to the denim as much as her clothing’s gentle restraints would allow. Her legs locked hard and high on him, her heels brushing his back.

He was so close to explosion, but he was also immersed in the new sensations. So closely linked to her, every thought, feeling and desire swirled like new stars in truth in that galaxy. Bright points of light exploding and streaking against the sky of her soul. He could reach out and touch them, feel their burning heat in his grasp. Her muscles contracted on him as he withdrew, surged in again, and that fire consumed him, such that he let go of control and gave himself to that binding as much as she had.