There was no answer, just quick breathing. She was utterly terrified of him, the smell of her fear like wood smoke in his nose.
He softened his voice. "I'm not going to hurt you. But you don't belong here, and I want to know who you are."
Her throat undulated under his hand, as if she were swallowing "My name... my name is Mary. I'm here with a friend."
Rhage stopped breathing. His heart skipped a beat and then slowed.
"Say that again," he whispered.
"Ah, my name is Mary Luce. I'm a friend of Bella's... We came here with a boy, with John Matthew. We were invited."
Rhage shivered, a balmy rush blooming out all over his skin. The musical lilt of her voice, the rhythm of her speech, the sound of her words, it all spread through him, calming him, comforting him. Chaining him sweetly.
He closed his eyes. "Say something else."
"What?" she asked, baffled.
"Talk. Talk to me. I want to hear your voice again."
She was silent, and he was about to demand that she speak when she said, "You don't look well. Do you need a doctor?"
He found himself swaying. The words didn't matter. It was her sound: low, soft, a quiet brushing in his ears. He felt as if he were being stroked on the inside of his skin.
"More," he said, twisting his palm around to the front of her neck so he could feel the vibrations in her throat better.
"Could you... could you please let go of me?"
"No." He brought his other arm up. She was wearing some kind of fleece, and he moved the collar aside, putting his hand on her shoulder so she couldn't get away from him. "Talk."
She started to struggle. "You're crowding me."
"I know. Talk."
"Oh, for God's sake, what do you want me to say?"
Even exasperated, her voice was beautiful. "Anything."
"Fine. Get your hand off my throat and let me go or I'm going to knee you where it counts."
He laughed. Then sank his lower body into her, trapping her with his thighs and hips. She stiffened against him, but he got an ample feel of her. She was built lean, though there was no doubt she was a female. Her br**sts hit his chest, her hips cushioned his, her stomach was soft.
"Keep talking," he said in her ear. God, she smelled good. Clean. Fresh. Like lemon.
When she pushed against him, he leaned his full weight into her. Her breath came out in a rush.
"Please," he murmured.
Her chest moved against his as if she were inhaling. "I... er, I have nothing to say. Except get off of me."
He smiled, careful to keep his mouth closed. There was no sense showing off his fangs, especially if she didn't know what he was.
"So say that."
"What?"
"Nothing. Say nothing. Over and over and over again. Do it."
She bristled, the scent of fear replaced by a sharp spice, like fresh, pungent mint from a garden. She was annoyed now.
"Say it," he commanded, needing to feel more of what she did to him.
"Fine. Nothing. Nothing." Abruptly she laughed, and the sound shot right through to his spine, burning him. "Nothing, nothing. No-thing. No-thing. Noooooothing. There, is that good enough for you? Will you let me go now?"
"No."
She fought against him again, creating a delicious friction between their bodies. And he knew the moment when her anxiety and irritation turned to something hot. He smelled her arousal, a lovely sweetening in the air, and his body answered her call.
He got hard as a diamond.
"Talk to me, Mary." He moved his hips in a slow circle against her, rubbing his erection on her belly, increasing his ache and her heat.
After a moment the tension eased out of her, softening her against the thrust of his muscles and his arousal. Her hands flattened on his waist. And then slowly slid around to the small of his back, as if she were unsure why she was responding to him the way she was.
He arched against her, to show his approval and encourage her to touch more of him. When her palms moved up his spine, he growled low in his throat and dropped his head down so his ear was closer to her mouth. He wanted to give her another word to say, something like luscious or whisper or strawberry.
Hell, antidisestablishmentarianism would do it.
The effect she had on him was druglike, a tantalizing combination of sexual need and profound ease. Like he was having an orgasm and falling into a peaceful sleep at the same time. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before.
A chill shot through him, sucking the warmth out of his body.
He snapped his head back as he thought about what Vishous had said to him.
"Are you a virgin?" Rhage demanded.
The stiffness in her body returned, like cement setting solid. She shoved hard against him, moving him not one inch.
"I beg your pardon. What kind of question is that?"
Anxiety tightened his hand on her shoulder. "Have you ever been taken by a male? Answer the question."
Her lovely voice turned high, frightened. "Yes. Yes, I've had... a lover."
Disappointment loosened his grip. But relief was right on its heels.
All things considered, he wasn't sure he needed to meet his destiny this ten minutes.
Besides, even if she wasn't his fate, this human female was extraordinary... something special.
Something he had to have.
Mary took a deep breath as the hold on her throat relaxed.
Be careful what you ask for, she thought, remembering how she'd wanted a man to be enthralled by her.
God, this was so not what she'd expected the experience to be like. She was utterly overwhelmed. By the male body pressing into her. By the promise of sex seeming out of him. By the lethal power he could wield if he decided to squeeze her neck again.
"Tell me where you live," the man said.
When she didn't answer, he undulated his hips, that massive erection moving, circling, pressing into her stomach.
Mary shut her eyes. And tried not to wonder what it would feel like if he were inside of her while he was doing that.
His head came down and his lips brushed the side of her neck. Nuzzled her. "Where do you live?"
She felt a soft, moist stroke. God, his tongue. Running up her throat.
"You're going to tell me eventually," he murmured. "But take your time. I'm not in a big hurry right now."
His hips left her briefly, returning as his thigh pushed between her legs and brushed against her core. The hand at the base of her neck swept down to her sternum, coming to rest between her br**sts.
"Your heart is beating fast, Mary."
"Th-that's because I'm frightened."
"Fear isn't the only thing you're feeling. Why don't you check out what your hands are up to?"
Shoot. They were high on his biceps. And they were gripping him, pulling him closer. Her nails were digging into his skin.
When she let go of him, he frowned. "I like the way that feels. Don't stop."
The door opened behind them.
"Mary? Are you oka - Oh... my God." Bella's words trailed off.
Mary braced herself as the man twisted his torso and looked at Bella. His eyes squinted, flicked up and down, and then came back to Mary.
"Your friend's worried about you," he said softly. "You can tell her she shouldn't be."
Mary tried to get loose and wasn't surprised when he mastered the jerky movements easily.
"I have an idea," she muttered. "Why don't you let me go, and then I won't have to reassure her?"
A dry male voice cut through the hall. "Rhage, that female wasn't brought here for your pleasure, and this isn't One Eye, my brother. No sex in the hall."
Mary tried to turn her head, but the hand between her br**sts slid up her throat and took her chin, stopping her. Teal blue eyes bored into hers.
"I'm going to ignore them both. If you do the same, we can make them disappear."
"Rhage, let her go." A sharp torrent of words followed, spoken in a language she didn't understand.
While the tirade went on, the blond's brilliant gaze stayed on her, his thumb running gently back and forth along her jaw. He was lazy, affectionate, but when he replied to the other man, his voice was hard and aggressive, as powerful as his body. Another series of words came back, this time less combative. Like the other guy was trying to reason with him.
Abruptly the blond let her go and stepped back. The absence of his warm, heavy body was a curious shock.
"See you later, Mary." He brushed her cheek with his forefinger and then turned from her.