His whole universe had been turned upside down last night when Kavya telepathically told him Aidan was his son. That truth dismantled his old world, but it also made him feel a new rightness, despite his disorientation.
He wasn’t an abomination. How could something so godless have helped create something as wonderful as Aidan?
Saint was still struggling to navigate around this entirely new, incomprehensible world, still spinning. Everything had changed, but he suddenly knew one thing for fact. It became the pillar that stabilized his new existence.
Christina was his.
A primal surge of possession went through him. He’d felt it many times before, but quickly learned to dampen the dangerous emotion, shamed by it, not feeling he had a right to it.
Because of his acute night vision, he could see her as clearly at night as he could during the day. She wore her thick, silky hair loose, spilling around her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed with heat. Her flesh smelled of sweet perspiration and arousal, the scent so thick, he could practically taste her essence on his tongue, even from this distance.
The sure knowledge that she wanted him in that moment as much as he did her made his cock jerk in his jeans.
Her T-shirt was tight. She wore a modest bra, but Christina possessed the kind of nipples that refused to be shielded by cloth. The stiffened crowns pressed against the bra and the shirt, beckoning him as surely as the earth’s sublime song. He wondered if they were unintentionally sharing thoughts and sensations, because suddenly she reached up and ran her fingertips over one nipple, lightly pinching it.
A snarl shaped his lips.
He moved silently in the darkness, a hunter closing in on its prey. She started to cry out when he reached for her, but he had already covered her mouth with his hand, trapping her scream. He pressed her to him, her back to his front, making no secret of his flagrant arousal.
He felt a shiver ripple through her. She leaned her head back on his chest and tilted her chin to look up at him, her green eyes wide in her delicate face. He slowly lowered his hand, caressing her neck. Her vitessence popped and sparked, a rich rainbow of color surrounding her. He opened his lips and tasted her richness on the air he breathed. He bathed in it when he gently lifted her jaw, stretching her exquisite neck, and kissed her throbbing pulse.
“I may not be solely a wolf, but I have studied their ways. If we bred together, then you are my mate,” he breathed out next to her ear, animal lust making his voice harsh.
“Prove it,” she whispered.
His nostrils flared when he sensed the sharp spike of arousal in her vitessence. His fangs distended, the sensation as agonizingly pleasurable as the tightening of an erection so thick it felt ponderous. He spun her in his arms and pressed her to him tightly, snarling at the sensation of her nipples pressing against his ribs.
“You want proof?”
“Yes,” she replied between uneven pants.
“Then you’ll have it,” he growled ominously.
Her lush, parted lips sent him into a frenzy of lust, as if her mouth were an exposed sex organ. He palmed her ass and bent his knees before he fell on her, savaging the honeyed cavern behind her lips. She participated eagerly, tangling with his striking tongue, but it was a consumption as much as a kiss, and it was Saint who consumed, suckling her essence, swallowing Christina down his throat until he felt her essence zipping through his veins, bringing his flesh to vibrant life.
She flicked her tongue over the front of an incisor, a quick, precise tease, and he thought he’d explode then and there.
He moved, only vaguely aware that he wanted something solid behind them, so enraptured was he with burying himself in Christina’s taste. She gave a soft umph of surprise when he backed her into a thick tree trunk. He softened his kiss by way of apology, but within seconds the madness struck his brain again. He slid his hands behind her thighs and lifted her off the ground, pressing her pussy against his straining cock.
He raised his head and hissed.
Her eyes went wide as she looked up at him, and for a brief second, what she saw flashed into his brain. The moonlight cast his rigid features in bluish light and black shadow. His fangs flashed white and lethal in the darkness.
She gasped and laid her head back on the bark of the tree, exposing her throat. He understood her reaction had come from arousal at the breaking point.
Not fear.
He leaned down and scraped his fangs gently over her madly throbbing pulse, the moment sublime.
When he sunk his teeth into Christina, it was like a velvet cataclysm—an explosion of sensation contained within the softest embrace. The sure knowledge that he would never harm her because he knew love—because he could love—flowed through him, an elixir as sweet as Christina’s vitessence-rich blood. He heard her sharp inhale, felt her body stiffen against him as pleasure infused them both.
For once, he embraced his pounding lust instead of fighting it.
She made a sound of protest when he withdrew his fangs, the sensation even more exquisite than when he’d sunk into her. His eyes rolled back into his head. He muttered an ancient curse and set her feet back on the ground.
“Take off your pants,” he ordered tersely. Stepping away from her at that moment was a pain that made him grit his teeth.
The rapidity of her compliance told him she was just as eager as he was. He tore at his button flies and shoved his jeans down his thighs. His gaze remained fixed on Christina as she worked her jeans down her long, pale legs, jerking her white canvas tennis shoes through the leg holes. When she slid her fingers between her skin and the white panties she wore, he spoke harshly.