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I trembled. “N-no.”
Yoichi licked his lips. “Why not?”
“You know why.”
“Tell me.”
“Yoichi. . .”
“Tell me why you don’t want me to stop?”
“Because. . .”
Heat flashed in his gaze, making those eyes even brighter. “Because?”
“You’re my mate.”
“Mmmm.” He growled. “Say it again, little witch.”
“You’re my mate.”
His mouth found mine, and it wasn’t a question.
It was an absolute claiming of heat and passion.
Dominance and lusty yearning.
Eight hundred years of waiting poured into that first touch of his lips—soft, then insistent, then deliriously desperate.
I felt the groan in his chest before I heard it, a vibration that traveled through my ribs and settled all the way down to my pussy.
When I opened my lips for him, his tongue swept in, tasting of stolen plums, cold mountain air, and so much goddamn magic that I knew without a doubt that I would be out of business back home.
The kiss was saturated in power, so much that the edges of my vision sparked gold-orange, like the world itself was burning at the seams where his mouth pressed against mine.
I shut my eyes and even more colors bled at the periphery—deep violet and ember-orange blooming behind my closed eyes.
The scent of him was everywhere now—cold stone and dark forest merging with a wild, untamed fragrance rolling.
He didn’t just kiss me; he devoured me, and I let him.
Power had a flavor, and it turned out it was his—wild, ancient, and unbearably, panty-wetting good.
My own breath came back to me ragged, barely recognizable, swallowed up by the low, hungry sound he made against my mouth.
And then this electric power flowed through the kiss the way lightning moves through water.
Instant.
Total.
Intense.
My hips arched off the silk.
He sucked on my tongue, triggering overwhelming desire to storm through me.
Sounds tore from my throat that I didn't recognize.
