Flambé sighed and rolled over onto her back to look up at the very high ceiling. “What is it, Sevastyan? I thought we were going to talk things out.”
She was going to talk things out with him, he wasn’t. But she was right. He was all for honesty. “I want you in this room with me at night, every night. We’re getting married as soon as possible and we share sleeping quarters.” He made that a firm statement. Her gaze shifted from his and she visibly winced but she didn’t argue.
“But?”
There could have been a note of amusement in her voice. He stopped pacing abruptly and swung around to face her again. She was back staring up at the ceiling. Now her hands were linked behind her head. She looked absolutely relaxed. Small. Her hair was still everywhere, as if it was untamable. The sight of it stirred the dominant in him. Or the leopard in him. It didn’t matter which. There was more to Flambé than was on the surface and he needed to be aware of that. He couldn’t take her for granted. Not for one moment. She was hiding herself from him.
This was a woman who frequently went overseas to find other strawberry leopards or leopards of other subspecies that were slowly becoming extinct. She exhibited no fear when she went into those lairs and explained her plans to the elders. She faced down poachers. Sevastyan had asked that she be investigated and she had been—thoroughly. In Africa and the Middle East, two different poaching factions who trafficked in animal parts and pelts had put out a reward for her death. Drake had known of her and her father long before Sevastyan had asked for a report.
“Before I actually found a woman and claimed her, I made certain there were features built into this room so that I could have my woman close and ensure that she was safe at all times as well. Not only that she was safe, but that I was and our leopards were.”
Flambé sat up slowly, pushing her hair back from her face with one hand and looking warily at him with large cat’s eyes.
“That you were safe? Why wouldn’t you be safe from your woman?”
“I’m an Amurov. My family would always be willing to pay someone to assassinate me.”
“I see.” She said it slowly, frowning, as though she didn’t really see. “So, a woman might go so far as to seduce you and then kill you in your sleep. You wouldn’t hear her lies, and neither would your leopard because you’d be so enamored with her that you just would fall all over her, like you did me.”
That was a trap if he ever heard one. He set traps, he didn’t fall into them. He stared at her without replying.
“What are these sleeping arrangements?” Suspicion colored her voice. She moved to the edge of the bed.
He turned away from her on the pretense of checking the water filling the bathtub. She looked too tempting with her breasts jutting toward him covered in his marks of possession and her hips, mound and thighs marked with the same. Satisfaction coursed through him. He was far more primitive than he ever thought he was. He’d tied so many women, but never once had he wanted to see those rope patterns on their skin. Never had he thought to sink his teeth into them in a claiming bite even though shifters were extremely oral. Now, just the sight of his marks on Flambé had his cock stirring all over again.
It was a large bathtub, but the taps were high pressure and would fill it rather quickly. Steam rose, curling into the air. He liked hot water and he intended to bathe with her. He wanted to start their life together as it would continue. She joined him, surprising him by walking in completely nude, her hands in her hair, winding it into some messy knot that she clearly was well versed in making when she took baths. It didn’t seem to matter that her hair spilled out of the knot in disarray; she looked more tempting to him than ever.
“It looks hot.” Flambé bent down to test the water with her fingers.
“Very much so.” He made it a statement as he put both hands around her waist and lifted her right into the middle of the tub.
She hissed her displeasure, but she didn’t try to claw at him to get out as he half expected. The water wasn’t so hot it would burn her skin, but it was hot enough to maybe be a little uncomfortable. He’d poured healing salts into it in order to help ease any soreness their wild fucking had created.
Flambé stood for a few minutes as the tub continued to fill with the hot, steamy water. “You were telling me about the sleeping arrangements. Just what are the options? I assume there are options.”
His gaze swept over her body deliberately. “I could tie you to our bed in a different position every night. I’m very imaginative. It would take quite a while before we would have to start repeating positions.”
“Seems like a fire hazard to me. I think sleeping downstairs appeals to me more.” She gave a little sniff of disdain.
He turned off the taps and stepped into the tub, towering ov
er her. Crowding her, when there was enough room that he didn’t have to.
Flambé stepped back and then had to catch at his hips to stop herself from slipping. He continued to stand, trapping her between his larger body and the high side of the tub. Very gently, but with firm command, he put one hand on her shoulder and applied pressure. The order was clear. He wanted her to sit down in the water and he wanted her to do it right there where there was little room between their bodies.
She tilted her head to look up at him, her cat’s eyes meeting his for just one moment. There was a brief hint of defiance that had the dominant in him rising fast, a sharp brutal power unfurling in him that raked and clawed just as violently as his leopard. He stared straight into her eyes, letting her see who he was, what he was and what she would always have to deal with.
A part of him detested that he had been born twisted and fucked-up, created by a strain of vile men who thought only of themselves and wanted nothing but power over others. He had fought the cruel streak in his makeup, the raging temper, and he’d kept others safe from both his leopard and himself. He cupped the side of her face and leaned down to take her mouth.
Her lips were soft. Reluctant or not, she opened for him and his tongue swept inside all that heat and glorious fire. The moment he touched her, Flambé surrendered herself into his keeping. More, she gave him as good as he gave her. She matched him flame for flame. She poured liquid accelerant onto the fire, her tongue stroking along his. Dancing with his. Dueling with his. She kissed like sin. She kissed like a fucking angel.
Flambé wasn’t in the least bit passive and he knew she never would be. She had a healthy sex drive and she wasn’t ashamed of it. She would need that with him. His body raged at him without his leopard driving him. When their leopards got in on the act, the two of them were going to be in trouble. He was looking forward to it.
Kissing Flambé was dangerous, not at all soothing. It was more like lighting a match to a stick of dynamite. He wasn’t used to having reactions to women. He didn’t give a damn one way or the other about them as a rule, with the exception of his cousins’ wives. And even then, when it came to matters of security, he ruled with an iron fist. But Flambé could change all that and he wasn’t certain that was a good thing, not when there was so much ugliness in him he fought to keep suppressed.
Sevastyan lifted his head and kept pressure on her shoulder. Flambé blinked up at him like a sleepy kitten, coming out of a fog, looking adorable and sexy at the same time. The steam had put a light dew on her skin so that every inch of her seemed to glow and the pattern of the ropes gleamed red.
Her long lashes did that little flutter that always drew his attention and then she slowly began to sink down, using him to steady herself, her hands on his hips and then gliding lower as she sank. Her face pressed against his abdomen as she moved down, her breath warm. His cock became a monster, hard and aching. He felt her tongue sliding over the broad, sensitive crown, lapping greedily at the leaking drops there and then curling around his shaft and gliding up his heavy sac. Then the inside of his thighs were treated to the feel of her tongue before she settled in the tub.