As soon as she’d said yes, Laarn had scooped her up in his arms and carried her in silence through the warriors lining the walls of the corridor. A walk of triumph, he’d made sure to look each warrior in the eye as they passed, the hard, possessive look on his face making Jess shiver.

Silence had reigned on the walk back to his quarters. A feeling of safety filled her as she curled up next to his broad chest, her arms around his neck, but she was tempered with increasing anticipation and nervousness when he didn’t speak.

She stole a look at his face, their gazes clashing. His expression was tight, not the pleasant and neutral one she was used to seeing. A shiver rolled down her spine. She’d spent weeks pushing him, trying to get under his guard and now that she had, she had the sudden feeling she’d poked the bear once too often.

Since she’d first met him, she’d wondered what an enraged Laarn would be like, and she’d seen it in the corridor outside the healer’s hall as he’d practically taken Saal apart with his bare hands.

She’d seen many fights in her time—growing up in a crowded tower habitat, illegal bareknuckle fights for money and gang clashes over territory had been commonplace—and only an idiot would have thought Laarn had needed the big sword back in place over his shoulders to take Saal down.

Instead, the weapon had been merely window dressing. Seconds in, it had been apparent that Saal was out of his depth—outweighed and outmatched by the tall, rangy healer. Laarn’s attacks had been methodical and precise, that of a surgeon as he targeted his blows for maximum effectiveness. Another shiver hit her. She’d always seen the kind and gentle side of Laarn—kind and gentle for a Lathar anyway—but today she’d seen the warrior and he was awe inspiring.

And deadly.

All to claim her.

She bit her lip as they turned another corner. They were in a part of the palace she’d never been to, one of the western wings and she started to take notice. Although she knew Laarn had to have quarters of his own here, she’d only ever seen him at the lab, even when it was obvious he’d just woken up.

Less than a minute later, he stopped before a set of double doors, which slid open silently in front of them. As he carried her inside, her eyes widened at the opulence of the rooms, quickly glimpsed as he carried her through to a huge bedroom. The decor wasn’t the clean, white and marble utilitarian sort she had grown used to seeing. Instead, it was all heavy wood and embroidered drapes, an older style, which made her think of a nomad tent or a desert sheikh’s harem.

Laarn didn’t stop until they were standing next to the canopied bed, still holding her in his arms as he looked directly into her eyes.

“A better man would give you a choice here,” he said, his deep voice low. “A chance to change your mind about my claim and leave if you prefer Sa…” He paused on the name, his lip curling slightly. “A chance to leave and find the warrior I bested. But I am not that man,” he snarled, his grip tightening. “You’re mine now, Jess, and I’ll never let you go. I ache to claim you, to finally make you mine, in every sense of the word.”

A thrill shot through her body at his words, arousal and anticipation working their seductive spell. He bent down, placing her on her feet carefully. Too carefully, his entire frame solid with tension.

Standing straight, he looked down at her, his expression unreadable.

“Take the gown off, or by all the gods, I’ll fucking tear it off.”

She hardly recognized his voice, harsh and guttural. The sudden look on his face, hard and feral, sent a wave of fear through her. Instinctively, she backed up a step, nerves setting in.

Instantly, fury flared across his features and within a second he was on her, his big hand capturing the back of her neck in an iron grip. His eyes glittered.

“Oh no, sweetheart. You don’t get to run. Not now. Not after this.”

A cry escaped her as he yanked her toward him, his free hand catching on the front of her gown. With a savage yank, he tore it clean down the middle, baring her naked body beneath to his gaze. Frozen, she looked up at him as his eyes slid down her, the hard look in them dissolving into heat as they paused on the swell of her breasts.

He stopped dead, his hand still on the back of her neck as he made a slow perusal of her body. She bit her lip, worry filling her. She’d pushed him to claim her, but what did he think now that he saw her body for the first time? Did he like what he saw… she wasn’t model thin, nor toned and fit like Jane or Kenna. She was just… average.

He looked down further, over the stomach she tried to suck in, those last few pounds she could never get rid of no matter how long she spent on the treadmill or how many sit-ups she tortured herself with showing there. The hard look on his face dissolved into heat as his gaze swept down her bare legs and then back up to settle at the juncture to her thighs. She resisted the urge… the need… to press her legs together as she remembered his clever fingers on her clit, in her pussy, as she’d ridden him to orgasm. She’d been able to tell he was a surgeon then, his hands dexterous and agile.

He released her and nodded toward the bed.

“On there. On your back… legs spread.”

His voice was still unrecognizable—a rough growl. Instinctively, she moved toward him, craving something… anything. Some sort of softness or tenderness to reassure her that she hadn’t made a horrible mistake.

“Do it, Jessica,” he snapped, his hands tearing at his weapons belt and jacket. “I’m too close to the edge for you to fight me, little one.”

His voice broke on the last word and her eyes widened, sudden understanding filling her as she glimpsed past his implacable mask and saw the stark fear and need there. She’d scared him, badly.

Stepping back, she let the remnants of her dress slip from her shoulders. He watched her like a hawk, his hands stilling for a moment on his belt as he undid it, like he couldn’t bear to look away. Like she was the only thing in the universe for him as she moved. Heat flared in his gaze again, and his hand shook as he tore at his buckle.

A surge of power filled her as soon as she saw it. Feminine pride and the knowledge that he was hers, that the sight of her naked body held him enthralled, rolled through her as she stepped back. Her movements were as seductive as she could make them as she slid backward onto the bed. Lying back, she kept her knees together for a moment, arching her back and body to show it off to best advantage as she slid her hands through her hair.

Settling back, she caught his gaze and then parted her thighs for him.

He was still watching her, his eyes narrowed but at his side, his jaw clenched and unclenched, the knuckles showing white.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered, shoving his pants down off his hips. “I want to see how you pleasure yourself. What you like. Make yourself wet for me.”

She nodded, unable to speak, and slid her hand down the front of her body to dip between her legs. As her fingers grazed her clit, his cock popped free, arching tall and proud up toward his flat, muscled stomach. A small gasp left her lips. He was huge and thick, far bigger than she’d thought.

Fisting his cock, he stroked. The broad, flushed head slick with precum played peek-a-boo with his hand as he stepped out of his pants and boots, but his eyes never left her, riveted to her fingers between her legs.

She played with her clit, using her other hand to part her pussy lips as she circled and stroked. She teased the small bud into a hard little nubbin and then rolled her fingertip over the beaded pearl. Her breathing shortened, her hips rocking as she remembered how he’d touched her. How much she’d liked it. How he’d made her come, hard and fast.

“Stop,” he ordered when she was almost there, her body straining for release. She did, instantly, locking her gaze with his as he moved to kneel on the bed—one knee, then the other, his cock still in his hand. He knelt between her parted thighs, stroking his cock as he looked down on her with a possessive gaze.

“Hands up, above your head.” His chest heaved, breathing short, and each word had a little growl on the end. Wordlessly, she obeyed, putting her hands either side of her head and watching him. Waiting for his next move.

With a growl, he braced himself over her, cock in hand and she tensed, anticipating the press of his hot flesh into hers. He moved, and she jumped as his fingers swept through her folds. His lips grazed over hers. Would he take her hard and fast, claiming her in one thrust? Was that why he’d had her pleasure herself, make herself wet for him?

“Mine.”

The word was growled against her lips and then he was gone, sliding down her body. She whimpered as he parted her thighs roughly, wedging his broad shoulders between them. His breath washed over her pussy lips and she tensed. His tongue rasped over her, warm and wet. Her hips jerked off the bed, a soft keen falling from her lips. It was met by a deep growl and his hands closing around her thighs, holding her still as he licked her again. Found her clit.

Sucked.

Hard.

Her head thrashed on the bed as he set about driving her out of her mind. Forget clever fingers, the man had a gifted tongue. She writhed, or tried to, as he took her with his mouth. Licking and suckling at her clit like a man starved before thrusting his tongue deep within to collect every drop of her arousal. Moans slipped from her lips as he brought her near the edge quickly and ruthlessly, her hands moving down so she could slide her fingers through his long hair.

He reacted instantly, tearing from her in an explosion of movement. Grabbing her hands, he surged over her, slamming them back into the bed above her head and holding them there.

“I said, hands up,” he growled, flicking his hair to one side, over his shoulder as he transferred both her wrists to one hand. She nodded, breath coming in short pants as he kept her thighs apart with a hard knee. She’d do whatever he wanted, if he didn’t stop touching her. He wouldn’t hurt her, she knew that without thinking, but this rough, near ruthless side of him, a side she hadn’t expected, turned her on like nothing else.

Reaching between them, he brought the thick head of his cock to bear against the entrance to her pussy. She bit her lip, sucking in a hard breath as he pushed, breaching her in one hard movement and seating himself to the hilt.

“Oh, shit…” she moaned, her back arched as she was filled suddenly, his thick cock stretching her inner walls to capacity. It burned. But felt so good. “Yes, please, yes.”

He groaned, his eyes half closed and his lips parted as his cock throbbed within her, but then he pulled back. Thrust again. Hard and fast. Their moans mingled in the air as he did it again, setting up a hard and fast rhythm.

She gave herself up to pleasure and him, arching her back and rocking her hips to match each of his thrusts. There was no finesse about his love-making now, just raw power as he claimed her. Each rock of his hips drove his cock deep inside her, each grind of his pelvis against hers trapping her clit between them and sending waves of pleasure through her.

“Laarn,” she gasped, pulling on her wrists in his hold. “Please… I want…”

He nodded, his hair brushing her cheeks as he leaned down to claim her lips in a torrid kiss. His tongue thrust into her mouth in concert with his cock in her cunt, but he let go of her hands. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back as he took her. He claimed her in hard thrusts, each one a declaration that she belonged to him, and only him.

Then it was all too much. The tension in her body, in her pussy clenched tightly around him, was all too much. Her movements faltered, hips jerking as she came, crying out into his mouth as he claimed her pleasure as well as her body.

Wave after wave of bliss drenched her body like the waves of the ocean. She whimpered and clung to him, her eyes pressed shut as he sped up, the near-frantic pace of his hard strokes driving her higher.

Then he broke from her lips with a groan, slammed into her a last time and stiffened. She moaned as she felt him come, hard and hot, deep inside her. She held him tightly, hand in his hair at the back of his neck. If she hadn’t already been pregnant, there was no way she wouldn’t have been now.

She was his.