The Warrior Vampire(26)
He answered with a confident smile that showcased the wicked points of his fangs, “I don’t mind being tied to your bed, but only if you stick around so I can reciprocate.”
The flesh at Naya’s throat grew hot at the memory of his mouth on her and she averted her gaze, focusing her attention on the knife she stuffed into her boot. Wicked male. “You saw how Santi reacted to seeing you. I can’t risk you being seen by anyone else.” It was best to steer the conversation away from either of them being on her bed. Tied up or otherwise. “And I’m already in enough trouble with the elders as it is.”
Ronan’s gaze hardened as it leveled on her. “What sort of trouble?” The words rumbled in his chest, a precursor to a storm.
The dark tenor vibrated over her skin and Naya suppressed a shudder. “None of your business. That’s what sort.”
“You’re my mate, Naya.” The words slipped from his lips as though he stated something as obvious as her gender. He continued to rifle through the shelves of weaponry, talismans, and powders, and Naya slapped his hand away. “Your trouble is mine. Tell me what it is, and I’ll make it disappear.”
The vampire was certainly cavalier. She grabbed two throwing knives from the bottom shelf and stuck one in her belt. “I’m not your or anyone’s mate, so you can get that notion out of your head right now.”
Ronan flashed her a confident grin that turned her body traitor and weakened her knees. “My soul knows it’s been tethered to yours. You’re mine, Naya.”
Mine. The word snapped the meager hold Naya had on her temper. She brought the squat blade to Ronan’s throat and choked up tight on the grip. “I belong to myself.” His scent enveloped her, a bloom of rich aroma that reminded her of roasted coffee beans. It awakened her hunger, and this one wasn’t for food. She pressed the blade into the flesh of his throat, nicking the skin. A drop of crimson latched on to the blue steel blade and Ronan’s nostrils flared.
“I fucking love a female with a violent streak.”
He was incorrigible. Obviously any threat of violence was just going to egg him on. Naya lowered the knife and sheathed it in her belt. Ronan closed the space between them, so close now that Naya had to look up to meet his face. Gods, he was a magnificent specimen. His very presence stole the air from her lungs; his sheer size crowded her until everything melted away but him. His scent enveloped her; his gaze swallowed her. In a heartbeat Ronan had become her entire universe. A tremor seized Naya’s body. From fear or excitement she didn’t know.
“We’ve been over this, Naya. Whether or not you choose to acknowledge it, we are tethered.” He leaned down until his mouth hovered above her and his breath was warm in her ear. “Already I crave you like a drug.”
She couldn’t swallow. Her mouth had gone bone-dry. And forming a coherent thought was impossible when he was close enough to touch. His tongue flicked out at the hollow of her throat and her palm came up to steady her careening world, landing on the solid wall of muscle that was his chest. Her fingers tingled with the contact and she splayed her hand out as though to touch as much of him as possible.
“So if you think for one second that I’m going to let you go out there alone without protection, you’ve got another think coming, my beautiful little witch.” He reached up and threaded his fingers through her hair, guiding her face up to meet his. His lips met hers in a slow, gentle kiss, and when he pulled away she could almost feel the pain that reflected in his expression. “Get used to having me around, Naya,” he said as he released his grip on her and turned away. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”
* * *
Ronan sucked in a sharp breath as he turned away. Fire raced through his veins with all of the heat of the sun in midday. A simple kiss was enough to set his blood to boiling, and it wasn’t merely the beautiful female he was dying to fuck. The gods-damned blood troth was going to be the death of him. Honestly, death would be preferable to withholding himself from his mate. How could he possibly be expected to deny that essential part of their bond that demanded he touch her, taste her, sink his fangs into her flesh while he fucked her?
Even now, it took every ounce of willpower in his stores to withhold himself from Naya. She was reluctant. Stubborn. And oh, so fiery. But Ronan liked that about her. She was a challenge he couldn’t wait to tackle. A puzzle for him to solve. He’d seduce her. Tease her. Discover what made her purr and relentlessly pursue her until she had no choice but to yield to him. He wouldn’t be satisfied until she belonged to him: heart, body, and soul.