Ebony Rising (The Raven Queen's Harem 2)

“And one day it will come for me?”

“Again. It already has once. That day behind your family’s home. The day your parents died. We shut it down, but other opportunities will arise. Soon.”

I know the warning is true. I feel it in the way my skin itches. The way my stomach twists with constant desire. Still staring out the window I ask, “Why won’t you touch me?”

“Excuse me?”

“You haven’t touched me, Dylan. Not like the others. If it’s so important for me to pick a mate—test your strength—and control the Darkness, then why haven’t you stepped up to the plate?”

He pales, making his eyes seem brighter and jet-black hair darker. “I’ve been focused on your studies. Have the others not fulfilled your needs?”

“Some of them,” I reply. “But you know exactly how I’m doing. We’re all tuned in to one another. You feel what I feel. Something is holding you back and I’d like to know what it is.”

For the first time in weeks I see the flicker of real desire in Dylan’s eyes. In an attempt to be patient I bite my lip and wrap my arms around my waist. The neckline of my dress plunges just enough to get an eyeful of cleavage. His eyes skim my flesh. I won’t throw myself at him. We’ll have to come to an understanding and right now I can’t figure out what’s going on in his head.

To my surprise, he reaches for me and thumbs my bottom lip. In a sudden, unexpected rush he says, “You’re the most alluring woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, Morgan.”

“Then why don’t you want me?”

In the next moment the tall, muscular man looks inexplicably vulnerable. “I want you more than you can imagine. You’re like the fire of a thousand suns and I’m a tiny moth with no hope but to burn my wings. You’re like a gallon of wine for a man dying of thirst. You’re the stars that guide a sailor home.”

His words sound like poetry, but other than the hand that moves from my mouth to my neck, he still hasn’t moved an inch.

I inhale and say, “Let me guide your way. Let me quench your thirst. I’m here for you just like you’re here for me.”

“I can’t.” He shakes his head. “Not yet.”

This time I do make the first move. I step forward and grab him by the front of his shirt, wrinkling the fine, blue linen. I tug him downward, pulling him into a reluctant kiss. His lips are hot as fire, his breath sweet like honey. He caves just an inch and his strong hands cinch around my waist.

Dylan’s hips brush against my belly and I feel the hardness beneath the fabric of his pants. There’s no mistaking his want. So something else is holding him back. I pull myself away from his mouth and ask again, “Why are you afraid?”

He presses his forehead against mine and his jaw tenses. Just when I think it’s a lost cause he says, “You entice me, Morgan. Like no other in any other time or place. You ignite a hunger in me that I worry I cannot control.” His lips move to my neck and he kisses a fiery trail from one side to the other. “I don’t want to just make love to you. I want to consume you. I want to plunge deep inside and leave a mark. I want to fuck you senseless. I want to claim you.”

“Is that so different from the others?”

“No,” he replies gruffly. “It is the same, but I’m different. I don’t have the control they do.”

“I don’t believe you,” I can barely hear my voice over the hammering of my heart.

He lifts my chin and says very slowly, with incredible intent, “I will break you, Morgan. You are not ready for my passion. I will tear you apart.”

Those words. That declaration. Jesus. I step back, unsteady on my feet.

His expression is instantly remorseful. “I’m sorry. The truth is too much.”

I look up in his eyes.

“You don’t get to tell me what I can handle, guardian.”

“What?” His eyes are wide with confusion.

I place a hand on each hip and gesture to Dylan’s favorite reading chair. “Take a seat and get ready to do your fucking job.”

My sentry. The leader of my guard does exactly as he’s told, lowering himself into the chair with a noble grace.

I move before him and prepare to show him exactly how strong I am.

Chapter 9