Anastasia Maltezos - Lycan King

She found him more dangerous and alarming in his human form than his menacing Lycan figure. More disturbing was she had just escaped near death and all she could think of was his arms around her, his mouth trailing hot kisses along her body. She rose from the bed, avoiding his eyes.

"That's the second time you've saved my life tonight," she said. She could sense the tension between them, thick and heavy in the room.

"I should let you sleep," he said.

Her gaze wavered under his penetrating stare and she made her way to the door. "Yes. Could…could you tell me where my chamber is?"

"You will sleep here. This is my bed chambers."

She drew a nervous gaze around the opulent room. "No. I'll be fine in my--"

" This is where you will sleep," he interjected firmly. "I'm just going to change and leave you to rest."

She watched him stride into a smaller chamber and she sat on the edge of the bed, waiting nervously for him to return. He came out a few minutes later with a towel wrapped around his waist. His chest glistened and his hair was damp.

"If you'd like to use my bath chambers, the basin has fresh water in it and I left a clean cloth for you on the side." He gave her a head-to-toe look. "Did you not like the gowns I sent you?"

"I don't wear dresses. I…I fly and fight better without the excess layers of a gown."

He flicked a gaze over her body, his eyes darkening.

She cleared her throat delicately. "I do thank you for sending them to me. They were lovely and if I was human I would accept them with appreciation."

He nodded and turned.

She watched him open the door to a huge walnut armoire. He pulled out garments. Without a drop of self-consciousness, he dropped his towel and she stifled a gasp, watching him dress. Her gaze ran over his long, tapered legs, his broad back, his taut buttocks and she willed herself to breathe. He could have been a bronze statue depicting an ancient god.

Garbed in his royal tunic, he turned around. "I will let you rest now. Goodnight, Eve. I will see you when the sun sets," he said.

She swallowed. "It's really good morning."

His mouth quirked. "Yes, it is." He paused, his expression turning sombre. "I'll have Lena bring you a goblet of pig blood when you rise."

In any other context, his comment would be deemed revolting, but in her situation it wasn't. His words touched her.

"Thank you. That's very kind of you."

He turned to leave.

"Wait," she said. Slowly, he turned around, his black gaze locking with hers. She couldn't speak as she watched his expression darken. "I…I…" Oh God! She knew she sounded like a fool, but a part of her didn't want him to leave. Embarrassed, she tried to think of something to fill in the thick silence as he continued to stare at her, his expression darkening with desire. "I wanted…er, to say--" She gasped.

Within three strides, he stood before her and dragged her in his arms. Before she could react, his mouth crashed down on her parted lips. Recovering from her shock, she placed her hands between them and tried to push herself out of his grasp, but it was impossible. His kiss was so hard, her head craned back and he trailed his hot, sensual mouth along her cheek and neck. He groaned against her heated skin and brought his hands behind her head as his mouth slid back to hers. Eve moaned as his lips moved seductively over hers, coaxing them to open. She felt his tongue against her teeth and she slowly opened her mouth, releasing a strangled moan as his tongue found hers. He tasted like wine and sweet fruit and she slowly melted under his sensual spell.

He ground her body to his and she gasped at the full extent of his arousal pressing against her. Savagely, he explored her mouth with his tongue and dragged one of his hands from her back to the front of her top. He growled from deep within his throat as he ripped her top down the middle. Eve felt heady and dizzy. His touch incited a fire in her veins she never knew existed. Her body tingled, her limbs melted and her feminine spot between her legs began to throb.

Her breasts spilled from her shredded top and he cupped one in his hand, kneading her mound until she was throbbing with desire. He dragged his mouth from her lips and bent his head. The second his mouth clasped over her breast, she choked on a scream. He suckled, laved and lavished her nipple and she ground her fingers into his hair, afraid her legs would give way and she would collapse from the sheer ecstasy she was experiencing. When she thought she could not take anymore, he dragged his mouth to her other breast.

Eve writhed and buckled in his arms, aroused to the point where she thought she was going to climax. Unable to wait, she slid her hand between them and found his rigid shaft. He growled as she explored his sex with her hand.

She stifled a scream when he lifted her suddenly and strode purposefully to the bed. He placed her down, his breathing hard and fast, and she trembled at the look of desire on his face.

"I want you, Eve. Not only for now, but for always," he said almost savagely, as he ran a hunger-filled gaze over her exposed breasts. He lay over her, his arms on the bed to brace his weight. He lowered his head and captured her breast's throbbing peak in his mouth.

Eve threw her head back and moaned, squeezing her eyes against the pleasurable pain darting down to the place between her legs that pulsed with exquisite fire.

A loud knock on the door jarred her and she stiffened. He looked down at her, his eyes darker, more compelling than she ever saw them, his face taut with desire.

"Whoever it is will go away," he said thickly.

The knocking persisted and Eve squirmed under his weight.

"Your Highness, it's Lena. I have to find Eve. Do you know where she is? Hesta needs her. She thinks Katya is awakening."

Eve grew cold, her passion immediately doused. Drago's mouth tensed as he rose, taking her hand and helping her off the bed. He went to the door and opened it.

"Eve is with me," he told Lena. "Tell Hesta we'll be there in a few minutes."

Eve's heart started to race. She was frightened to death. What if something had gone wrong when she'd placed Katya in deep sleep? Something must have shown on her face because after Lena left, Drago went to Eve and drew her in his arms.

His kiss lasted only a few seconds, but it still managed to make her knees buckle. He cupped her face with his hands and stared deeply into her eyes. "Everything is going to be all right," he said.

In four hundred years, no one had ever told her that and she didn't know what to say. Unable to speak, she stared up into his dark eyes and nodded as she felt an unfamiliar comfort with his words.

Chapter Eight

Eve opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling in her bed chambers. Her stomach churned with the oncoming heat of hunger and she pursed her lips. It was feeding time soon.

Her thoughts went to this morning. Hesta had been wrong. Katya had not been awakening. She had been having a restless sleep. Eve had stayed with her daughter until she'd settled back into a fitful slumber and then had gone straight to her bed chambers instead of Drago's.

She recalled their passionate encounter and her stomach jolted.

Hesta may have been wrong about Katya awakening, but Eve had seen it as a blessing in disguise. If Lena hadn't interrupted them--stop, she told herself. She couldn't think of what would have happened.

She inhaled slowly and glanced around her room. What time was it? She knew from the darkness, it was well after sunset. She rose and walked to the dresser. Moments later, the room was lit with the warm glow of the candelabra. She was about to go into the adjoining bath chambers when her gaze caught the brass goblet filled with blood and a note resting on its side.