Chapter 11
He’d been a little more selfish than normal, and as he watched the deep breaths of her sleep, Reule theorized that it was because he’d never felt that level of emotion before.
Nothing in his experience had prepared him for the fever that had overcome him the instant she’d promised herself to him.
The urge had been fiercely territorial, and he’d been unable to focus on anything but taking her and making her his.
She’d been sleeping now for an hour, and he’d watched her every minute.
She’d tried to slide away from him a few times, but he’d held her stubbornly close against him.
She was no more used to another in her bed than he was, and he had no doubts that her attempts at withdrawal were self-protective.
It would take time, he reminded himself, before she’d feel secure.
He took heart in the fact that she’d fallen trustingly into sleep.
That she was trusting him with her entire future was only slightly more important to him than that.
Reule sighed, glancing at the dark window that warned him their initial time together would have to draw to a close very soon.
There were, some changes that would need to be made now, and he’d see to them before the banquet began.
By now the Pack was well aware of the choice he’d made.
He could hide only so much. His joy had been emanated in healthy doses, he had no doubt.
He needed to confront his friends before much more time passed.
Reaching down to his affianced bride, Reule ran gentle fingers over the length of her bare arm, from shoulder to fingertips, letting the roughness of his calluses stimulate her.
She twitched and tried to roll away again.
He held tight with a chuckle, then second-guessed himself and let her roll away onto her back, but no farther.
Now her gorgeous breasts were thrust into his line of sight like an offering and he exhaled in a rush as his body instantly tightened.
He rose up over her on a single elbow and slowly bent his head until his lips brushed her nipple.
It was the barest of kisses, but she moaned a tiny sound of pleasure as the dark rose tip tightened into a beckoning peak.
He touched his tongue to it, then added the scrape of his teeth when her warm taste filled and stirred him.
When her eyes flew open with a gasp, he was sucking her in earnest, his hand sliding up her thigh in a stimulating path toward damp, delectable places.
“Reule,” she breathed.
He released her so he could smile up at her. “I had better be,” he observed. “I hear he’s developed a bit of a jealous streak where you’re concerned.”
“Oh?” She raised a single slim brow, amusement glittering in her eyes.
“Insanely so,” he assured her gravely, moving over her until her mouth was just beneath his. “You are so very beautiful,” he said, his tone becoming all seriousness to match the eyes looking deeply into hers.
That was how she knew he wasn’t speaking of her physical beauty.
The entire compliment was spoken as he looked inside her, rather than outside.
She had the funniest sensation in her Chest, like her heart tumbling over, and she swallowed hard as the feeling spread all through her body.
She recalled oh so vividly how he expressed his delight with her exterior beauties.
Her entire body still hummed with the pleasure he’d served to her in large portions.
She shivered when she anticipated being loved by him into the future.
And if he expressed his appreciation for her inner qualities with even half as much intensity as he had her outer, she suspected she might be very happy indeed.
She reached to ruffle his hair with her fingers, loving the soft feel of the shaggy mass.
Then she slowly glanced down the connection of their bodies, the contrasts of his dark skin against her pale.
She smiled, enjoying the visualization of their differences.
The feeling surprised her. She’d thought she might be disturbed by so visible a reminder that she wasn’t Sánge, but how could she be when he looked so sexy lying naked against her, felt so warm and, apparently, already aroused?
She met his eyes, licking her lips in sultry anticipation.
“A better than fair idea, my sweet kébé, but we’re soon due at Amando’s banquet.” He chuckled, accurately reading her expression.
“How soon?” she asked hopefully.
“Soon enough. You will want Para to repair the gown I tore if you intend to wear it tonight. I also imagine you wish to bathe. There are things I must attend to as well.” Clever girl, Reule thought as her eyes narrowed in instant suspicion.
He probably shouldn’t have woken her with the comment about his jealousies.
“Are you going to hurt Rye?”
“No.” Not until after the ceremonies, he thought, fresh anger radiating through him.
“Then why are you clenching your teeth?”
Reule sighed, the exhale releasing tension. “Because I’ll be dealing with him in the morning. I don’t look forward to it because I’ve never had to harshly reprimand Rye before. He’s usually warm and congenial, more dangerous as a flirt than anything else.”
“Which only goes to prove my point that it was grief that made him violent,” she didn’t hesitate to point out.
“I know,” he said, leaning back onto his side of the bed with a noise of frustration as he threw an arm over his eyes. “I have no idea what to do, Mystique. He must suffer a powerful consequence for his actions, yet I know you’ll be devastated if I make it a violent one. How do I please us both?”
“You know him, Reule. Enough to know how to punish him without making it a challenge. You must make the consequence equal to the act, but temper it with the knowledge that he’s in a great deal of pain already.”
“I’ll think on it. For tonight, I have a way of satisfying my need to see him squirm a little.”
“Oh?”
He laughed when she tried to sound nonchalant but ended up sounding terribly curious. There was a part of her that wanted to see Rye made to pay for his act against her, even if she would accept no violence.
“That will be my concern. You’re …”
There was a brief knock on the door that interrupted him and Reule reacted with amazing speed, jerking a coverlet over her bare body. The fabric was still settling even as the door swung open to admit Drago. He carried a small tray and bustled in with his usual brisk efficiency.
“My Prime,” he greeted Reule without looking at the bed, “I hope you’ve enjoyed your rest. The ceremony will be—”
The Sánge attendant turned as he was setting the tray down and froze midsentence as he took in the tableau of his master and the woman tucked up tight against him.
When he recognized the bloodred hair, he lost all coordination and the tray banged down onto the table with a clattering of its contents.
Mystique had never seen him flustered before; his dignity was usually unflappable.
She instantly had the urge to laugh, which she smothered by pressing her face against Reule’s bare shoulder.
“My …” Drago sucked air, searched for words, giving himself a fishlike appearance that worsened Mystique’s. predicament. She snorted against Reule’s skin, which made him suppress a chuckle of his own.
“I rather recall the idea of knocking is to give an opportunity for someone within to respond,” Reule mused. He turned his attention to Mystique. “Isn’t that so, sweetheart?” She responded with a smothery snicker he took as a yes. “Very well. Mystique agrees with me.”
Reule was torturing the poor fellow. Drago had been with him for decades, and he’d always had free access to Reule’s chamber.
Reule simply didn’t bring women to his own bed.
Ever. He didn’t like the idea of the mark of a woman in his private chambers, so he’d always met his lovers elsewhere.
It was quite possible that Drago fully understood the significance of what he was seeing: the declaration of an event he’d often complained about never seeing in his lifetime.
“My Prime! I beg forgiveness. I … of course I ought to have waited. It was … um … unforgivably rude. My lady Mystique, I’m most apologetic,” the attendant stammered as he kept his eyes strictly on the tray he was suddenly very interested in organizing.
Drago had flushed an amusing shade of red, no doubt wondering exactly how bad his timing had actually been.
Mystique gave him credit. Para would be stretched out on the floor by now.
“I’ll just go get something I’ve forgotten,” he continued, edging toward the door without looking at the bed, “and I’ll return to help ready you for the ceremony in … uh … about …”
“Ten minutes,” Reule provided gently.
“Ten minutes. Just so. Excuse me, My Prime.”
The attendant dashed out the door, shutting it tightly behind him, and Mystique finally burst into irrepressible giggles.
“You’d think he’d never seen you with a woman before.”
“Well, I don’t believe he has,” Reule mused thoughtfully. “Certainly not in this bed. Probably never at all without at least a little forewarning to prepare his dignity for the affront.”
Her laughter ended so abruptly that Reule looked down at her curiously.
She was looking at him with an indecipherable expression, and the wave of emotion coming from her had the chill of that fear he was beginning to associate with her past. Instantly disliking whatever she was thinking, he threw himself into her mind and read her thoughts, giving her no opportunity to hide.