Deliciously Mated(17)

“Wrap your legs around me,” he urged.

Clara barely found his face for the way her head was spinning. It was her cook. His dark brows furrowed over slate gray eyes. His expression was urgent, demanding. What was happening? She was caught, she knew that much. But what the hell?

“Do it.” He shot a look over his shoulder to the door. “Follow my lead.”

Grabbing her legs behind the knees, he pulled them up around his hips, and for some reason, she did exactly what he’d told her, locking her heels in place. Like this, they were too close. Too intimate. The hard planes of his chest pressed against her stomach, stealing her breath. His steely arms banded around her waist, pulling her in even closer until there was only a breath separating them.

Touching. They were touching. She was touching another human being. Something she hadn’t done in ages.

Her breath came stiffly. Too much. Too little. Too much…

He touched her face. So carefully, even though the rest of his actions were urgent and rushed.

“Shit,” he said under his breath, his eyes closing for a moment. When they opened, he looked resigned. “I’m sorry.”

Clara tried to find her voice. “For wha—”

His lips crashed down on hers, cutting off her rasped question. They were firm and demanding, and hers gave way to his easily. His hot tongue swept inside her mouth like he was trying to taste her, and the sensation was so decadent, she didn’t even try to fight. Hand under her jaw, he angled her head so he could push in farther, bending her backward over the desk.

She’d never been kissed like this. Not ever. Sure there had been lovers before she’d taken to the woods. Several. But none of them had ever kissed her like they needed to consume her to survive. Like she was simply… everything.

The door to the kitchen swung open with a bang and Clara tried to pull away, but her cook held her steady against his working lips.

An agitated throat cleared, and he lazily broke their kiss, sucking at her lower lip on his way out. His gaze burned into her, eyes swirling with emotion she couldn’t read. He seemed to promise her something with just that look.

“Go away,” he growled, and she jumped at his sharp tone. But his eyes softened, and she could feel his thumb sweeping a soothing pass over the pulse in her neck.

“Like hell,” the man at the door seethed. She couldn’t see him, but she knew he was angry. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What does it look like?” her cook snapped, and then flashed her a warning look. Clara bit her lip as he peered over his shoulder at the other man. “Do you mind?”

“Fuck yes, I mind. The kitchen isn’t exactly the place to bone a rando, Eagan. Get a goddamn room.”

His grip on her tightened.

“Serious cock block, Magic, I swear to god.” He pulled her off the desk and let her slide down his muscular body until she stood on her own shaking legs.

Holy crap. What was happening to her?

“You know,” the man said, “I expect this shit from the others. But not from you. Since when do you hook up with guests?”

Eagan kissed her head, his palm on the back, keeping it tucked against his chest. God, he smelled good. Something woodsy and dark like leather. And garlic.

“Come on, baby. Let’s get out of here.” He squeezed her close to his side with one last press against her head. She got the hint. Keep your head down.

She let him walk her toward the door. They were almost free, but then what? What would her cook do to her then?

Clara felt the moment when things changed. The air in the room went utterly still just before it crackled with energy. It reminded her of the atmosphere right before a thunderstorm. Tense with foreboding.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” the other man—Magic? Was that his real name?—snarled. His voice was like a roar in her ear even though she was feet away.

Before she could think to run from the danger, Eagan, shoved her backward, behind him.

“What the fuck is this, Eagan? You covering for a thief? Someone who stole from your clan? Your family?”

“She’s not stealing anymore,” Eagan spoke carefully, but the muscles of his back were tensed as if waiting to strike. “Let this go, Magic.”

Clara peered around him to look at the other man. He had shoulder length dark hair that hung in his face, causing his dark eyes to look dangerous. He was angry. Maybe even confused.

“Let this go? What is wrong with you?” Magic shook his head, pulling his phone from his pocket.

“Magic. Stop.” Eagan seemed to vibrate with fury.

Shit, she was in trouble. If she escaped this, she’d go back to the woods and never come back. She’d forget about her book and making amends and the man who helped her.