“I am.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am,” he repeated. “You can stop now.”

Relieved, she lowered her arms—but the relief didn’t last long. He tore his shirt over his head. “What are you doing?” she demanded, her eyes instantly riveted to his chest.

“Now let’s see what happens when you’re distracted.”

“What? No! Put your shirt back on. You’re...you’re...so sexy.” The last ended with a dreamy sigh. “Uh, I mean...uh...”

“No take-backs.” He smirked as he took her hands and placed them on his pecs. The sensation was almost too much. He groaned. She moaned. “Ready for stage two?”

“There’s more?” she breathed.

“Oh, yes.” So much more.

He should resist, but he wasn’t going to. Every second in her presence was a torture with only one cure. Here, now, with her scent in his nose, an obvious hunger for him in her eyes, she could give it to him.

Mine. He lowered his head slowly, taking his time, savoring every moment, before pressing his lips into hers. Her mouth opened immediately, welcoming him, and he swept his tongue inside. Her intoxicating taste invaded his senses, and all thoughts of leisure were abandoned. Need he’d denied far too long roared to the surface. He was a starving man, desperate to devour.

Driven by instinct, he leaned and she fell back on the mattress, just as he’d imagined. He pressed his weight into the softness of her sweet little body, and pinned her down. In this position, no part of them remained disconnected from the other.

“Kane,” she gasped out.

“Tinker Bell.”

He forced her head to tilt, taking more. Giving more. This time, bad memories were kept at bay. And there was no pain in the action—no pain at all, he realized, not that he would have cared. This woman...she chased the darkness away, showed him pleasure and light. Beauty.

Mine. She’s mine. I keep what’s mine.

They’d started this for a reason—why had they started this?

Her fingertips glided down the length of his spine; her nails scraped back up, sending waves of pleasure through—wait, yes, her hands. “You must have instinctively built mental barriers. You’re not draining me.”

“Keep checking. Just to be sure.” Distracted words. She opened her legs to him, providing a cradle for his aching shaft— want her, want her so bad—and he fell into it, pressing intimately against her. Hissing at the utter pleasure. So perfect. He couldn’t stay still, was already moving against her, rubbing, seeking.

She moaned with breathless excitement and clutched at him. Innocent, he reminded himself. She’d never had this. He had to be careful with her.

But he wasn’t careful as he kneaded her breasts, or when he reached between their bodies to cup her between the legs and rub, hard, harder, because she didn’t seem to want careful. The more demanding his touch, the louder her cries of abandon. He lost his finesse, was nothing more than an animal nipping and pawing at her.

He bit the cord at her neck, and she shuddered.

“Yes! Again,” she demanded.

He obeyed. Every nerve in his body cried for satisfaction—to give her satisfaction. This woman...oh, this woman. She’d been made for him, only him.

She arched against him. She scratched at his back all over again. She squeezed his hips with her knees. Then...she palmed his length.

Going to lose something else...

“This all right?” she asked.

“Better than.”

This should stop, before he pushed them both past the point of no return.

Stop.

No, he still couldn’t stop.

He’d wanted this for so long...too long. To walk away now...no, he would rather die.

“Please,” she rasped. “Do more to me.”

“Yes.” His fingers trembled as he jerked at the hem of her shirt. He had to strip her. Had to taste every inch of her. Had to prove she belonged to him, that they belonged together, and no one and nothing could ever tear them apart.

The hollow of her stomach...perfection. Her breasts...exquisite, just as he remembered. He was utterly snared, couldn’t tear his gaze away.

Then she moved her legs, planting her feet at his sides and bending her knees.

The panties had to go.

Disaster shook the walls of the bedroom, maybe the entire palace. Suddenly furniture was rattling, and a chair was toppling over. Kane was too lost to care. Such a lush, ripe female. Perfect in every way.

And if you take her, then marry her sister?

The thought swept through his mind, springing from a conscience he’d thought had been murdered. He brushed it aside. He would make sure she liked everything that happened, that she never had any regrets, that she—

Suffers with shame and guilt.

That thought was too shattering to ignore. He couldn’t take her, he realized like a harsh slap in the face. Not here. Not now. Not like this, with things left unsaid and unplanned.

Frustrated, he smoothed down her shirt and jolted upright. His body screamed a protest, his every cell rejecting the separation from her. He punched the headboard. Wood shards rained.

Tink gasped with surprise. “K-Kane? What’s wrong?”

His shame rose. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

At least the shaking had stopped, Disaster calming.

“Did I drain you and not realize?” she asked.

“No.” Remaining on his side, facing her, he lay down. “The demon was acting up.” Despite the pain of unsatisfied lust, there was no underlying ache—but there wasa surprising underlying wave of contentment.

“I want to go to my room now,” she said hollowly.

Or maybe not. “You’re staying here. You’re sleeping here. That’s not up for discussion.”

“You don’t get to decide what’s up for discussion and what’s not.” Her voice had a bite to it.

“I do get to tie you to the bed if you even think about leaving.”

She closed her eyes, hiding the anguish he’d just glimpsed inside their depths. “You are so confusing! One second you’re all over me, the next you’re pulling away. I shouldn’t have kissed you, I admit that. Ultimately, your circumstances haven’t changed. In fact, they’re worse. I asked if you planned to marry Synda and you refused to answer.”

If the situation had been different—if he planned to marry Synda for any reason other than to save Tink—he would have agreed. “I thought it might prove necessary.” Yes, he’d entertained the notion of going through with the marriage to Synda, and yes, it was still an option, but just then, with Tink’s taste in his mouth and her warmth enveloping him, he knew it wasn’t an option he would ever be able to take. “I was wrong.”

He would think of something else. He would.

One of the wood shards had caught on the bed railing and now fell into his eye. He hissed.

Kane tilted back his head and poked around until he found and removed the tiny sliver.

Hatred for Disaster burned that much deeper.

“Is there anything you’re sure of?” Tink asked quietly.

He was sure he was tired of pretending. Tired of thoughts and memories and fears and indecision and...everything but this girl. “I’m sure we both need some rest.” Before Disaster caused herharm. “We’ll talk about this later.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“GUESS WHAT? IT’S LATER.”

Kane looked around. Josephina stood at the side of the bed, surrounded by the same glittering white mist he’d seen in the dark alley beside the club. “Did you project yourself into my mind again? Even though you’re right next to me?”

Wait. She was next to him, wasn’t she?

He patted the space beside him, and sure enough, the heat of her caressed his hands.

She raised her chin, probably trying for haughty but only managing adorable. “Would you be angry if I pleaded guilty?”

“You’d already be over my knee if I were angry.”