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There was no fire in his eyes now. They were pure human, dark and vulnerable, showing her the tormented depths of his soul.

“How can you be so sure?” His voice was the barest whisper.

“I’m your mate,” she said, surprised that he could even ask. Then she groaned out loud, smacking herself in the forehead. “And I still haven’t told you what that means, have I?”

The faintest shadow of a smile crossed his haunted face. “I’m beginning to suspect it’s fairly important.”

She sat back on her heels, opening her mouth to explain—and found herself stuck. No one had ever told her about mates. It was just…a thing that all shifters knew, bone deep, in the marrow of their souls.

How could she explain mates to him, when he’d never known even a scrap of human kindness? All his life had been a lie, a prison built as much around his mind as his body. How could she make him understand with mere words what he was to her?

Don’t use words, then, her swan said, pragmatically.

“You’re smiling,” Blaze said, looking a little uncertain.

“My swan made a good suggestion,” she said, her smile widening. Bracing her hands on his taut thighs, she pushed herself to her feet. “Sometimes our animals are much wiser than we are.”

He drew in a soft breath as she stepped close to him, between his braced legs. She was taller than him in this position. He had to tip his head back to search her face. His eyes were pools of black, just the barest ring of deep brown showing around his dilated pupils. Fire kindled in their depths as she leaned in close.

“Rose,” he whispered, his breath warm on her lips. “What—?”

She stopped him with a finger across his mouth, her other hand curving around the back of his neck. “I’m listening to my animal. Listen to yours, Blaze.”

He held very still. He wasn’t even breathing as she drew her finger across his lips, slowly, tracing the line of his mouth. With her fingertips, she explored the planes of his cheek and jaw.

In years to come, she knew, she would know the shape of his body better than her own. They would match each other so well that they would move as one, two parts of the same whole. There would be a joy in that deep, earned familiarity.

But oh, there was a profound sweetness in unfamiliarity too. In discovering him for the first time—the slight roughness of his jaw against her palm, the way his mouth parted with a shuddering gasp as she trailed her fingers behind his ear and down the strong, sensitive column of his neck.

His hands fisted in the bed covers. She smelled smoke, rising from where he gripped the sheets. She felt his pulse beating wildly against her fingertips, in the hollow of his throat.

“Rose,” he said hoarsely. “I want—I can’t—I don’t want to burn you.”

“I’m already burning,” she whispered, against his mouth. "I always will be."

His hands came up at last. His fingers wound into her hair, his whole body arcing up as he pulled her down to him. And if she’d been on fire before, it was nothing compared to the explosion at that first touch of his lips on hers.

There was nothing restrained or tentative about his touch now. He devoured her like wildfire, hot and hungry, claiming her mouth with fierce need. Every kiss and bite fanned her own desire. She pressed against him desperately, her fingernails digging into the thick muscle of his shoulders. She needed more of him, all of him, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away for even an instant.

He solved that problem by hooking two fingers into the neck of her sundress. With a sharp, impatient motion, he ripped the thin cloth apart, never relinquishing her lips. Her bra and panties went the same way, falling in tatters to the floor.

Now, now she could glory in the heat of his bare skin against hers. She bit his lip to stifle her cry as his hard chest pressed against her sensitive nipples.

A deep, feral growl rumbled through his throat. He broke their kiss at last, pulling back just enough to be able to slide his hands up over the soft curve of her belly. Everywhere he touched, her skin burned with need.

He spread his fingers wide, cupping her breasts as if they were priceless treasures. She squirmed against him, pushing herself into his hot hands, shameless and urgent. His thumbs teased her hard peaks, making liquid fire pulse between her legs.

“This is right?” His voice was a harsh rasp, shaking, edged with the crackle of an inferno. “This is what it means to be mates?”

“Yes.” She tipped her head back, abandoning herself to ecstasy. “Yes, Blaze!”

With a groan, he pressed his open mouth to the base of her throat, tasting her skin. She could barely stay standing as he trailed lower, across her collarbone, down the swell of her breast. When his lips closed over her nipple, her vision went white, sparks exploding through her.

“Blaze!” she cried out, lost to everything except the heat of his mouth and her own aching need to be filled. “Please, more, now!”

His hands slid down to her waist, her thighs, though his tongue never stopped its exquisite, tormenting circles. He stood, scooping her up effortlessly, lifting her so that he could continue to feast. She wrapped her legs around him, back arching, his supporting fingers tantalizingly close and yet unbearably far from her slick, yearning core.

Shifting his grip, he held her up with one hand, his other diving between them to fumble with the button of his pants. Through the waves of pleasure, she felt him snarl in frustration against her breast. Releasing her nipple, he lifted her even higher for a moment. She gasped, startled, as a wash of intense heat licked against her thighs.


Tags: Zoe Chant Fire & Rescue Shifters Fantasy