Aeromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 3)

“Cravings?” she asked when she’d swallowed. Mm, that was delicious. “Who says I’ll have any?”

“You will. This will be an extreme pregnancy, I can tell.” He held another piece to her lips. “Eat.”

She took the bite he offered. “How can you tell?”

“If my son is anything like me, he’s going to take it all from you.”

The pride in his voice as he talked about his son warmed her heart. At last they were moving in a positive direction.

He fed her until there wasn’t a morsel left on her plate, and then he made her drink a glass of milk.

“Calcium,” he explained, as if she didn’t know.

“For your son?” she teased.

“For you. My son will take everything he needs. He won’t ask for permission.”

She was going to make a clever comeback, but he got up and pulled her to her feet. Pointing at the door, he said, “Walk.”

Excitement set off like fireworks in her stomach. Lann had been sweet, taking care of her by feeding her. From the heated look on his face, he was about to take care of her other needs.

She walked to the entrance and up the stairs. When she glanced back at him in the hallway, he said, “Keep going.”

At the door to their room, she turned and leaned on it while he approached with slow, determined steps. The candlelight threw soft shadows over his white shirt. The first three buttons were undone, making her long to draw her hands over the hard muscles of his chest. He watched her from under his eyelashes like a hunter who’d fixed his target. Her heartbeat spiked. It was more than lust, more than anticipation. Her gaze slipped to his hips. The tailored pants did nothing to hide his arousal. She ached to run her fingers along the V cutting to his groin. Her breath caught when he stopped in front of her.

He placed his palms on the door on either side of her face and brought his mouth close to hers. “Are you undressing me with your eyes, krasavitsa?”

Her chest rose and fell with quick breaths, and he hadn’t even touched her.

Nudging a knee between her legs, he rubbed his thigh over her sex. “Open the door.”

Heat gathered between her legs. It was a dance she knew well, a dance he’d taught her. He was so much more skilled than what she was. Lann was a demanding but considerate lover. If she were gone, who would he choose to abate his sexual appetite? Who would replace her as a mother?

“Katherine.” He cupped her cheek. “Stay with me.”

In the present, he meant. He deserved her undivided attention. She focused on him, putting everything else out of her mind. She was completely in his power. She basked in his dominant stance, needing him to take control right then. A soft pinch on her nipple made her gasp.

“I said open the door.” He rubbed away the sting. “Unless you want me to take you in the hallway.”

To manage, she had to turn in the narrow space between them. He leaned in, trapping her with his weight against the door. He let her feel his erection, making his intentions clear. Her hand trembled as she grabbed the doorknob. It slipped in her sweaty palm. Only after the third try did it finally turn. When the door swung open, she didn’t move. Instinctively, she waited for his command.

Humming his approval against the shell of her ear, he said, “Good girl. Now, step inside.”

She took three steps and stopped.

“All the way,” he said behind her. “Stop by the fire.”

The room was cozy, thanks to the central heating, but she still welcomed the warmth coming from the flames. She paused in front of the fireplace and turned. He closed the door, and then studied her as if he was deciding what to do with her. She needed to touch him. The wait was torturous.

He removed his glasses and left them on the table, causing more heat to burn under her skin. Lann’s glasses gave him an academic look and a civilized air. Without them, his handsome features seemed a tad hard. The raw passion in his eyes was overwhelming.

He moved to her slowly. Instead of touching her, he crossed his arms. “By now you know I’m a possessive man and protective of what’s mine.”

“You’re jealous,” she exclaimed as the insight hit her. “Of Richardson?” She didn’t find the agent appealing in the least. On the contrary, he’d repulsed her.

“Maybe.”

“Then maybe you should remind me to who I belong.”

He lifted a brow. “Do you need reminding?”

“Yes,” she said, a little breathless.

His eyes darkened. “Tell me what you want.”

She wanted to experience him with all of her senses. She wanted to burn everything he was into her memory. “I want to taste you.”

Leaning down, he brushed his lips over hers. “Too vague. Try again.”