He gripped her hair harder, the only signal she had before he closed the inch between them. Their mouths met in a clash of teeth, fangs, and tongue, a desperate, clawing need. A kiss that could block out the world. Or begin whole new ones. Ones where a princess took what she desired, what she deserved, what she was destined to have. And to keep for all time.
She trailed her palms up his hard chest and along his flexing shoulders, settling one hand at his nape. The other she clenched in his hair as their mouths nipped and sucked. Her feminine moans mixed with his masculine ones, weaving them tighter together until he banded a strong arm around her waist and pulled her flush against his body, cradling her close, both of them on their knees, his apart.
He skimmed his mouth up her jaw and down her throat, licking a wet path, laving the drops of water beading on her skin. “You’re so sweet,” he murmured.
She laced both her hands in his short hair, pressing him closer, before letting them slide down his neck to his hard chest. His groaning growl told her he approved of her exploring touches, feather-light down his abdomen.
“Yes.” She whispered her approval when his lips and tongue suckled their way over the swell of her bosom.
She had no experience with men. None. Her first kiss was the blood kiss that had awakened her. She’d heard him in the dark of her prison tower. She’d felt his lips, his mouth, his tongue, his own blood reviving her to full wakefulness, bringing her back to the world with a passion she’d not forgotten since that moment.
And here she was taking more. So unlike her. So far from the staid, poised princess who’d spent her days reading, embroidering, playing piano, and singing music, dreaming of a time when she’d feel alive. Dreaming of this. Of a man like him.
“Mikhail,” she moaned as he scraped a canine along the mound of one breast, not breaking the skin but marking her pale flesh with his sharp fang.
He licked the line along her skin. “Mina,” he whispered.
She dropped her head back on a gasp of pleasure. Her name on his lips was pure heaven. He skated up her throat, his roughened voice driving her near mad.
“Mina.”
He’d let go of her hair and eased his hand to cup the back of her head. He lifted till she met his gaze, his lips hovering close to hers, not touching.
“Mina.” His voice had dropped so low, so deep, so dark, with such power, such force, as if he owned her. And in that moment, she knew no man would ever have the right to kiss her lips, to caress her skin, to touch her body. He’d claimed her with a word, with her own name.
His ethereal gaze burned into hers as he swept his lips over hers one last time, gentling his grip in her hair and around her waist, licking into her mouth with controlled tenderness. She could’ve floated in this place of pleasure forever, but the captain finally pulled away. Panting, he composed himself and lifted her to her feet.
With slow, precise movements, he righted her sleeves up over her shoulders and pressed his palms to the sides of her neck, his fingers tightening at her nape, his thumbs brushing her collarbone, and simply stared at her. It was a look of longing and loss at once, of pain and pleasure, of hope and despair. Something was wrong, more than she could decipher by sensing his emotions. She understood his sense of duty, but she couldn’t comprehend why it hurt so much to experience a moment’s pleasure.
“Mikhail?”
He shook his head. Taking another controlled breath, he dropped his arms and marched to the tree holding her cloak and his coat. On a heavy sigh, she followed, knowing the moment was gone. He’d already shielded himself behind his mantle of control when he wrapped her in her cloak, tying it at the neck.
He shouldered into his dark-brown leather coat, the tail brushing above his knees. All of the Bloodguard had similar coats in different shades of brown and black with hoods she’d only seen them wear the night they’d rescued her.
“Come. We’re almost to Silvane Forest. Once there, you’ll be safe.”
She nodded and followed him back to the others, wondering exactly who she’d be safe from. She knew he included himself among the dangers that threatened her. What he hadn’t quite come to understand was that for once in her life, she yearned for a taste of danger.
Chapter Eight
Mikhail had been rebuking himself ever since that moment by the brook where he’d lost his bloody mind. He’d only barely reeled himself in before tumbling her to the ground and hiking up her skirts.
His goal for this mission had been to save the princess and then to show her the path to claim her throne. With the support of the southern kingdom, she’d have strong, powerful allies and the best equestrian army in all the land to go up against Queen Morgrid and King Dominik’s vampire army. His goal had not been to attach himself to her in any way, shape, or form that was this intimate. Protect her, yes. Maul her by a stream, suckle her perfect breast, make her come on his fingers—an emphatic NO.
It was the blood kiss. Since he’d tasted her, he’d yearned for more. He wasn’t prepared for her reaction to him at the stream. The desire shining in those eyes. He should’ve had someone else awaken her. Dmitri, perhaps.
Fuck. He knew he wouldn’t have. The thought of his brother or any man’s mouth or hands on her lit an inferno of fury inside him. It made him even more eager to put quick distance between them and King Dominik’s guards. He’d not let that monster get ahold of her. He’d die before he let any harm come to her.
They walked down the last incline leading into the southern edge of the Silvane Forest. It wasn’t wise to move at vampire speed into hart-wolf territory. Even if they had allies, not all the hart wolves liked the fact that the Bloodguard had set up camp on the northeastern border by Hiddleston, near Sienna’s home. Before they’d left on their mission, he’d learned that the Fire Witch, as some were calling her now, had befriended the princess once before. Arabelle counted Mina as a friend as well, even though she had been betrothed to Marius at the time. Mikhail was glad to know she’d have friends among the Black Lily. It would put his mind at ease so that he could distance himself. The thought struck physical pain in his chest, and yet he knew he must do it.
He had to remain focused. The very reason the Bloodguard took a blood oath to forfeit marriage and family and any attachments to lovers was to maintain their lethal edge. A lack of focus could mean death—for his men, for the Black Lily, for civilians. For Mina.
“Will you tell me about your family?” she asked beside him, jarring him back to the present.
The other men walked ahead and behind, still guarding her from every side. No rogues would wander into Silvane Forest without meeting a quick death by the hart wolves, but they weren’t taking any chances.
Mikhail glanced her way. He didn’t want to let her in any more than she already was.
That was a lie.