“I can tell you what happened,” Bastian said. They lifted their heads at the sound of his voice as he weaved through people to stand beside them. Confusion was etched on Mars’s face as he looked from Phelan to Bastian. Whatever Mars missed must’ve been huge because Phelan appeared to be trying to skewer Bastian with his eyes.
“Where’s your friend?” Phelan asked.
“She went to powder her nose. Zasha got to you, didn’t she?” Bastian said.
“Why would Zasha do that?” Mars asked.
“You want to tell him?” Bastian asked.
“I don’t think I have much choice,” Phelan said. “Zasha is my mate.”
“What!” Mars said. “How long have you known this?”
“Years.”
“You’ve waited years to claim her! Why would you do that?”
“When we first met she was still so young, barely twenty-two, and I wanted her to have time to become the woman she was meant to be without my influence. I’ve kept my distance to delay the inevitable, but tonight I find myself unable to continue with the charade.”
The admission was wrung from between his pursed lips. His composure on a downward spiral as his body began to quake. His blood grew heated in his veins, and the predatory instincts he kept taped down boiled over.
“I have to go to her.”
His shiny black boots beat a rhythm across the marbled floor as he left to stake his claim.
Among the sea of witches, princesses, and naughty nurses, her six-foot frame incased in a red dress was easy to spot.
Graceful hand gestures followed her words. How he longed to know the feel of those elegant tools on his body. He growled in his throat when an alien male dressed as a vampire sidled over and gave a valiant effort to draw her into conversation. The urge to choke the man for his attempt to take what Phelan considered to be his prompted him to take immediate action. Each step forward filled with purpose. Almost as if she sensed his intent, she looked up and met his gaze. The dilation of her pupils hit him like an asteroid. The beast inside him raged. “Mark her so all will know who she belongs to.”
“I trust that everyone is enjoying themselves,” he said.
He pasted a polite smile onto his lips as he greeted those gathered around her in a circle. Their positive affirmations and comments registered, and he issued the proper responses but his eyes never left Zasha’s.
“I hate to interrupt your conversation but Zasha and I actually have some business to attend to. So I’ll ask that you’ll excuse us.”
His arm on her elbow was meant to remove the chance for an escape. His clever plan backfired when desire erupted through his body like hot lava. The feel of her petal soft skin beneath his, seared him. The dream he’d longed to know was eclipsed by the reality.
His steps accelerated as he led her from the ballroom floor.
“Where are we headed?” she asked.
Her breathy alto entranced him, and it was all he could do not to scoop her into his arms and head for his bedroom at a dead run. He should stop. Explain to Zasha what it meant to lay with him.
But the fire in his blood wouldn’t allow for polite conversation. It was by sheer force of will he functioned at all.
“Somewhere a little more private,” he said.
The scent of her arousal floated up to his sensitive nose. The salty sweet mixture he knew must coat her inner thighs called to him. But it was the “O” shape her mouth formed that broke him.
The moment they rounded the corner of a hallway he pressed her supple form against the wall. His hand wound in her wealth of inky black hair. A sharp pull of her ponytail arched her neck. The world around them went up in flames as he bent to kiss her mouth, devouring her lips like a starving man at a buffet.
His tongue learned every nuance of her mouth. The sweet tang of the fruit punch she drank mixed with a darker taste that was simply her. He twisted the warm weight of her hair tighter. The added tension on her scalp pulled a whimper from her throat that made his cock jump.
“Phelan.”
He supported her as her shaky legs gave and she slumped against him.
He released her hair, propping her against the wall before he hit his knees.