toward his shoulder blades, a place no woman had visited since his only real love had pressed her lips there in goodbye.
McKenna was going to break that record if she had her way. He couldn’t let her get that far. If she reached his blades, she’d feel the designs carved into him with the blackened blood of the seven Blood Knights.
If she were his Reaper, that one touch could awaken her. Now that he was here, close, he wanted to prolong the pleasure.
When her fingertips found the lower edge of the tats, Kellan sucked in a breath. The sigils were scoring him raw when he already felt feverish. Part of his mind rebelled against the personal intrusion. His muscles spasmed with a dire kind of reminder that holy marks weren’t meant to be seen or shared.
But he fought against the old rules. This woman’s touch might be the only way for him to determine the sincerity of their connection.
These feelings he had for McKenna were a mystery, unless the two of them were connected. A woman’s lips had been the last thing he’d felt before his new, resurrected life began. Now a woman’s touch might cause the end of that second round of life.
He had to distract her from the tattoos, or he’d be undone.
Kellan rested his hand on McKenna’s flat belly. He splayed his fingers so that his fingertips rested on her pubic bone, above the lovely spot his body now shuddered to enter.
He was used to observing every movement, gesture, tic, in not only an opponent but also everyone else around him. Danger in unexpected places was a constant for him. He found it funny now that enhanced senses used to working overtime couldn’t quite get a handle on her.
While her sigh told him how much she liked this meeting of their skin, McKenna’s tension hadn’t eased. Though her face had flushed pink, her heart knocked out a swift-paced irregular beat. His heart matched hers pulse for pulse in much the same way that his body behaved when taking on the aspects of his hunted prey.
Her long lashes fluttered. Her tongue darted to moisten her lips. Oh yes. He liked it all. Her. This. McKenna was doing a number on him. She had ensnared him on the street with the invitation in her eyes, and now he would return the favor.
Kellan pressed closer to her, waiting for her eyes to reopen, part of him hoping they wouldn’t. Because he didn’t want her to see the questions on his face. Or the fangs, sharp-tipped and throbbing with a need for something they’d never had.
Kellan hauled himself back, cursing silently with blasphemies from his past.
It was then that he saw the small tattoo on her upper arm. A tiny black rose with its petals unfurling. This could have been a coincidence. People today had tattoos. Women were partial to flowers.
But then why did he have one very similar to it, carved into him centuries ago?
Hello, Reaper, the voice inside his head said.
McKenna’s moan of pleasure stuck in her throat. Her arms dropped to the bed as if she’d been released from a trance. Opening her eyes, she found the auburn-haired stranger looking down at her.
His eyes were luminous. His shiny hair, lightened by streaks of gold, was just long enough to fall becomingly across his forehead. There was no upward curve to the lips she wanted to curse for being so inviting. He was serious now.
Her first instinct was to shy away from the intensity of his penetrating gaze. But there was more exploration to come. She and this man were only in the starting gate. Both of them were shirtless but still wearing their pants.
Wait. Could that be right?
In spite of finding herself half-dressed, McKenna believed that she’d been naked in his arms and fucked to within an inch of her life just minutes ago. The soreness of a long, drawn-out sexfest was there, deep inside her, aching, throbbing. Her thighs quaked with leftover need.
Of course, being almost fully clothed would have prevented any of that, so how could she have thought otherwise? She had to have been hallucinating. Wishing.
Her voice wasn’t quite even when she spoke. “I thought we just...that we...”
“Only the beginning,” he promised in a tone as thick as hers.
Wary of losing track of events that couldn’t have been more than a few moments long, McKenna made herself speak again. “I have a confession to make. I’m afraid that if you’re good enough to make me imagine we’ve gotten to know each other a whole lot better without actually doing so, I truly might not be ready for the real thing.”
He nodded. “We have a connection.”
“You think?”
“My confession is that I find you irresistible, McKenna.”
“You don’t have to flatter me. I’m already right here, on this bed.”
“What if I speak the truth?”
“Then I’d have to ask what’s stopping you from taking what you want right now, and then see what answer you come up with.”
“I’m savoring the moment,” he said.
“Take your time. After all, I did just embarrass myself, didn’t I, by jumping the gun? I suppose that says something about my love life, or the lack of it.”
His brow furrowed. “I can’t imagine why there isn’t a man here, waiting for you.”
“I guess it’s because I have standards.”
He nodded. “Then I’m honored to be here now. And I find your honesty refreshing.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what a girl wants to hear while lying in bed with a man. That she’s refreshing.”
The remark resulted in a smile that was as dazzling as the rest of him. Because of it, McKenna’s mind began a new internal dialogue warning her about truly not being ready for this caliber of man.
His hand was very close to her private parts. One move of her hips and he’d find out just how much she wanted this.
He didn’t make that move.
“You can leave whenever you want to,” she said, testing his intentions. “There were no promises here.”
“Did I say anything about leaving?”
“No, but I thought I’d get that out, up front.”
“Actually, I’m fairly sure there were promises, and I rarely go back on mine.”
“Promises? Such as?”
“Mouths meeting. Bodies merging. Two lost souls finding each other.”
“That’s deep,” McKenna said. “And maybe too advanced for the possibility of an hour together in my bedroom.”
“I’m a man of high hopes.” He withdrew his hand and reached
