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“Cuan,” she said, very softly. “You gave me iron, knowing that it would let me see the truth at last. Why? Why now?”

“Because you should not feel helpless.” His hands tightened into fists. “You are a warrior and a queen, and the strongest woman I have ever met. It is wrong, wrong, that you should ever feel otherwise. Even for a moment.”

Tamsin reached up, her fingertips hovering over his skin. She traced the outer curve of his left eye, following the line of his faemarks, not quite making contact. The faint heat of her body seared him to the bone.

“Your eyes are beautiful, Cuan.” Her hand curved around the back of his neck. “And you are not a beast.”

She pulled him down to her mouth. For an instant, he froze, in sheer disbelief—but then her tongue slipped between his lips, and all doubt fled.

There was no pity in that kiss. The fierce press of her body against his, the strength in her grip on the back of his neck, the hungry way she thrust into his mouth…none of it could be feigned.

She desired him.

She had seen his true self…and she still desired him.

Just as he was.

Her kiss was like the blessing of a goddess. Benediction and forgiveness and salvation all at once, a white-hot rush of fire through his veins. He would have fallen on his knees at her feet, except that he was too busy kissing her back, as fiercely and frantically as she was him.

Someone was growling. It wasn’t until Tamsin purred in response that he realized the low, feral sound came from his own throat. He didn’t care. Not with Tamsin arcing in his arms, tilting back her head to offer him the long, maddening line of her neck.

“Cuan,” she gasped as he kissed his way down. “Cuan, yes!”

His lips brushed over the line of leather around her throat, and a sharp jolt struck through him. It wasn’t exactly painful, but it penetrated the haze of his lust. He jerked in reflex, recoiling.

“Oh!” Tamsin let go of his neck, her hands flying to her own. “I’m so sorry, I forgot about the iron. Hang on, I’ll take it off.”

“No.” He caught her hands, lacing his fingers through hers. “Leave it on.”

“But it’ll—ah!” Tamsin caught her breath in a very gratifying gasp as his teeth brushed her skin again. “Won’t it hurt you?”

“The iron is plated in gold on this side. I can’t touch it directly.” He backed her up against the wall, never lifting his mouth from the tender place behind her ear. “Keep it on. So you know this is real.”

She melted into him, twining her arms around his neck once more. Her hands slipped under the collar of his tunic. A much more intense—and pleasurable—jolt lanced down his spine as her fingers brushed over the faemarks on his shoulders.

A low groan escaped him. Tamsin paused, then, very deliberately, raked her fingernails down the spiraling lines again. Another savage snarl spilled from his throat. His hips bucked involuntarily.

Tamsin made a small, smug sound. “You’re glowing.”

“Be glad that is all,” he gasped into the hollow of her shoulder.

He was already harder than he’d ever been in his life. The light from his faemarks was bright enough to cast Tamsin’s shadow into sharp relief on the wall behind her. When she flexed her back a little, grinding against him, he was nearly undone then and there.

“Have mercy, woman.” He had to grab for her hips, holding her away for a moment. “At least give me a chance to uphold my honor.”

Tamsin cocked an eyebrow. “Is that what faeries call it?”

“I do not know how things are done among humans.” He relaxed his grip, brushing his palms up the delicious curves of her waist. “But for fae men, it is a matter of pride to satisfy one’s partner first.”

He cupped her breast, and Tamsin sucked in her breath, her eyes going dark and hazy. She arced into his touch, filling his palm with sweet, maddening softness. Bending his head, he found the hard nub of her nipple. He fastened his mouth over it, suckling through her shirt, relishing every moan of pleasure.

“Wait,” Tamsin gasped.

He released her instantly, backing off—but she seized his hair before he could step away. She cast him an exasperated glare.

“I didn’t mean stop.” She hesitated, worry clouding the desire in her eyes. “Unless…if we do this, does it mean we’re mated?”

“No.”


Tags: Zoe Chant Fae Mates Paranormal