Especially given the way things were between her and Qhuinn the now.

Thus, in spite of having given birth, she was all but a virgin, unfamiliar with a loving touch, a caring touch … from a sexual partner she loved who loved her in return.

“I’m so glad it is you,” she said as she watched his tongue circle her nipple.

Xcor’s eyes flashed up to hers, and as they darkened with self-loathing, she wished she could spare him the emotion.

“No.” She placed her fingertips on his lips, silencing him when he went to speak. “That is for me to decide, not for you to judge. And please … don’t stop.”

Xcor shook his head. But then he moved down to the waistband of her leggings, his lips brushing low as he hooked his fingers into the elastic.

“Are you sure?” he said in a husky voice. “There is no going back after I remove these.”

“Don’t stop. Ever.”

He bit his lower lip with his fangs. “My female …”

And then he pulled the leggings off along with her panties, stripping her bare to his hot stare.

Oh, how his eyes went everywhere, all over her legs and her hairless sex, her lower belly … back up to her breasts again.

His bonding scent became so intense it was all she could smell.

Xcor was careful now as he stretched out on top of her, easing his weight down gently, going slowly with his movements. And the feel of the hard ridge behind those thick sweatpants made her pivot her hips and rub her core on him.

When he kissed her again, and his tongue entered her mouth to meet her own, she scored his back with her nails. She couldn’t take a moment longer, her sex aching for him, her body straining at being so close and yet not joined with his.

“Now,” she begged. “Please …”

One of his hands disappeared between them, and she cried out as he slid his warm palm down the inside of her thigh. And then he was touching her at the center of her heat.

She was so ready for him, and still the release that came over her was both unexpected and a surprise, the pleasure ricocheting through the inside of her, making her float up from the bed even as she stayed where she was.

He helped her ride out the waves of sensation, and then his lower body lifted from hers. There were a series of movements down at his hips and she grew excited to feel his skin on her own, know his sex without any impediments.

Except when his pelvis came back down to hers, he still had his sweatpants on.

His arousal had been freed, however. And her eyes fluttered shut as his blunt head brushed against her.

“I’m trying to go slowly,” he said through gritted teeth.

“You don’t have to.”

With that, she shoved her hands down, found his thick, hard length, and brought it to her in just the right place. Digging a heel into the duvet, she moved herself up—

He slid into her and the fit was perfection. It was home and it was the whole galaxy at once, and she was so overwhelmed, tears speared into her eyes—because she knew he was equally affected: Xcor orgasmed the second he was fully inside of her, his warrior’s body beginning to empty into her—and yet he recoiled, his head jerking back, alarm marking his face even as his body continued to release.

“Have I hurt you?” he said in horror.

“What?”

“You cry!”

“What—oh, no, no, no …” She took his face in her hands and kissed him. “No … not from pain. Never that.”

She kissed him again and tried to get a rhythm started between their bodies.

But he would have none of it.

“Why do you cry?” he demanded, holding himself back from her.

Layla brushed impatiently at her eyes. “Because … I never thought I would ever get to have you like this. I didn’t think … I didn’t think it would happen for us and I’m just so very grateful. It has been so long, this waiting, this aching.”

Xcor propped himself upon his elbows. “It was the same for me,” he whispered. “In the course of my life, I have learned that dreams are not what come true. ’Tis only the nightmares that find you in real life. I had no real hope for this.”

As a haunted light entered his eyes, she wondered what horrors he had seen throughout his hard life. What horrors had been done to him. His ruined lip would not have been an easy defect to bear.

Seeking to finish what they had started properly, Layla forced herself to cast aside such sad thoughts and refocused by going for the bottom hem of his sweatshirt.

But when she sought to pull it up, he prevented her, removing her hand.

“Will you not join me?” she said.

Mutely, he shook his head, and before she could question him, he began to kiss her again, his hips moving against her, his arousal stroking up and down inside her. As sensations overtook her once more, subsuming her in heat and wonder, she allowed herself to be lost.

It was a place she wished they could stay together forever.

She knew better than to aspire to that, however.

Destiny had seen fit to give them this one respite, this short period of time before he had to return from whence he had come—and although she wanted to be grateful for it, she was at her heart just greedy for more.

Love was like life itself, she supposed.

No matter how much of it you were blessed with, when the end came, it never felt like enough.

THIRTY

As V arrived back at the mansion with the King, he’d really just plain fucking had it with everyone. And that included himself.

But as the pair of them rematerialized side by side next to the fountain, he was well aware that his job as personal guard wasn’t done until he got Big, Bad, and Really Fucking Bossy through the vestibule and into the foyer. Then, and only then, would he be free to abandon ship and go get hammered.

With any luck, those two bottles of Grey Goose that Fritz had brought over were still where they’d been dropped off, namely under the counter in the Pit’s galley kitchen.

After a night like tonight, he wasn’t even going to need ice.

Or a glass.

“Congratulations,” Wrath said.

V grabbed hold of the arm that was nearly the size of his own thigh and started walking them forward. “What for?”

“You have another opportunity to be reasonable tonight.”

“I’m always reasonable.”

“In your own mind, I’m sure that’s true.”

“Step up,” V muttered as they came to the stone stairs. “And now what are we doing. It better be good, by the way. I have a date with a vodka bottle.”

When the King hit the ascent but kept quiet, V wanted to bare his fangs and hiss. Instead, he demanded, “Tell me.”

As they arrived at the vestibule’s outer door, the King stopped and looked over at him. “I’m ready to talk to Qhuinn. Your opportunity is to get shot at because you’re coming with me to speak to him.”

“That’s not a chance to be reasonable. That’s called being a target.”

“Tomato, tomahto. Whatever.”

“I swear, I keep winning the lottery around you.” V yanked open the way into the vestibule. “Every frickin’ night, true?”

Wrath did the duty at the security camera, finding the lens with his hand and then putting his face in its camera. “You’re a lucky motherfucker, for sure.”

Fritz opened things wide, and the light from the glorious foyer was enough to leave V blinking as his retinas adjusted.

“My Lord!” the doggen exclaimed. “Sire! Oh, it is good that you have arrived home before the storm! May I get you a libation?”

Fritz’s smile was like that of a basset hound’s, all wrinkles and enthusiasm, and the butler had a dog’s lack of time conception, his joy as if the pair of them had been gone for five years, not an hour.

“How ’bout a couple of bulletproof vests,” V said under his breath.

“But of course! Would you care for the Point Blank Alpha Elites, or is this more of a bomb-detonation occasion requiring the Paraclete tactical vests?”

As if the choice were nothing more than having to pick white tie and tails over your standard-issue tuxedo.

You had to love the guy, V thought grudgingly.