When he'd wrung every last shudder from her, she had to push him away.
As if reluctant to leave, he kissed her thighs languidly, though she could feel his hands shaking.
"Bowen," she whispered. "I need you inside me."
"Anythin'," he grated, rising up to yank off his clothes, while she lay back and stared at him in awe.
This is actually going to happen.
Though he was in a lather from licking that orgasm from her - and still staggered from her wanton response - he somehow controlled himself to make sure she was ready to receive him. He delved his fingers inside her tight sheath until her nails bit into his shoulders with frustration.
At last, he allowed himself to lie in the cradle of her thighs. Again, his dazed mind thought, I'm going to claim her.
And he was... nervous.
He'd vowed to her that she'd never want to leave his bed, speaking with all the arrogance he'd used to possess - before he'd been celibate for nearly two centuries.
Yet even when he was on the verge of entering her, he somehow remembered the patch. He fingered it at her arm, making his voice as casual as possible. "Let's take this off, then."
Breathless, she asked, "Why would you want me to?"
"You've no reason to wear it. You'll have no other man but me, and I can only get my mate with bairns - no other female. So if you conceived, then all the better. We'll know without a doubt that you're mine."
"Whoa... " She stiffened beneath him, shoving his hand away. "I don't want to get pregnant."
His heart sank. Of course not. Nothing's changed. He rolled off her to his side.
"I'm only twenty-three. It's too early!"
He swung his gaze on her. "But you do... you do want to eventually?"
"Sure, but not now," she said, and he felt a welling of relief. "Not until I'm in my thirties or forties. Chronologically. That's the plan. I know I don't seem like the type of woman to have a plan, but I do."
"What's the difference between now and ten years in the grand scheme?"
"I've got a lot to get straightened out in my life. My powers, my place in the House. Right now I can't even take care of myself, much less someone else."
"I'll take care of you. Always." He cupped her face. "You've nothing to worry about ever again."
"Wait... " She went still. "That's what this is all about? So you can be sure?" His eyes widened when hers began to water. "The entire seduction. The full court press last night, today, tonight. So you can find out for certain whether I'm your mate or not."
"Do you think there's no other reason why I might want tae be inside you?" He shoved her palm to his aching shaft, but she yanked her hand back.
"Not one as important as your knowing for certain, as your black and white. Today, you said that you'd decided on me, so why this test?" She sat up, pulling the shirt to cover her. "I'll tell you - because you're still recognizing the possibility that I won't pass the test. You're trying to persuade me to throw all in with you, to accept you as mine - but you're not doing it!" A tear spilled down her cheek and she swiped it away with the back of her hand. "I'll become immortal soon, and I'll be impervious to most injuries, yet you couldn't wait for me to turn? Really, MacRieve, a mortal, giving birth to the offspring of a nearly seven-foot-tall werewolf? And Lykae conceive two and three at a time, don't they? Do you think I would survive the labor?"
"Damn it, I dinna think of that."
As Lachlain always said, "Ach, Bowe, you've ed up this time."
"You never considered these things?"
"Mariketa, I am a product of my times. For most of my life, males and females desired bairns and would do anything to have them. And since you doona act mortal or look it, each show of your power makes it easier for me to forget that you are vulnerable still. I would never want anything to happen to you."
"Because it would hurt you!" she cried. "Everyone thinks you were so selfless in your love for your dead mate. But the truth is, you're the most selfish male I've ever known. You ache for your mate because you don't want to feel empty or guilty over her death. Not out of love for her."
"You go too far, Mariketa," he said, even as her comment resonated within him - because at some level, he'd begun to wonder... if he had ever loved Mariah.
He'd been with the witch for mere days. Had whatever he was feeling for the lass already overshadowed what he'd experienced with Mariah?
"I don't think so. The tomb incident wasn't an anomaly. You really are a merciless bastard. Just get away from me."
"Mariketa - "
"Get away." She reached for her mirror. "Or I will put you away."
"Oh, no, no, bloody hell if you're doing that again." He'd be damned if he'd sit there and watch her whisper to a mirror in a conversation he couldn't hear.
"What is the appeal of that cursed thing?"
Mari was almost as furious that he wanted to take away her one true, dependable power as she was about his wanting to knock her up.
She felt like she was on the cusp of something big with her magick. The reflection was teaching her. Every time she did the conjuring she garnered more control over her power. And she suspected that with each bite of apple she grew physically stronger. "The appeal? I'm going to ask the reflection if the others are truly okay - because, for some reason, I find myself distrusting everything you've ever told me."
He crossed his arms over his chest. "No' near me."
"Then you better hurry up and leave."
"You think I will no'?" He shot to his feet and slung on his jeans, stomping into his boots. "I should leave you out here - to remind you how much you need me."