Chapter 19

Ali's blue eyes glimmer in the strange, ethereal light of the cave. Her still-damp shift clings to her skin, highlighting the soft swell of her breasts, the curve of her waist. There's heat in her gaze, her pink lips gently parted, and all I can think about is throwing her against the pallet, feasting on her until she screams my name.

I want to put my hands on her, I want to taste her. I want her to forget her worry and fear and sink deep into her, wringing pleasure from her lithe body until she can only remember my name.

I cannot make love to her. I cannot force the bond, because when Ali comes to me, when she finally submits to the call of our blood, I want it to be because she wants to, not because she feels she must quiet the raging beast of House Scorpio that shares my flesh.

I will not put that weight on her shoulders, no matter how strong I know she is.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Her legs cross, muscles flexing like she's squeezing them together.

My cock, already hard, grows firmer.

"I am worried for you."

She tilts her head, cinching her eyebrows. "For me?"

"Your ankle," I say gruffly. Turning away, I root through the bag, my hands closing over the ointment. I'm a selfish bastard, because I'm going to give into my craving for her. I'm going to put my hands on her silky skin, until her eyes close with pleasure.

Even if it's only to soothe her sore leg.

"Oh. It's sore."

I turn around quickly, the towel flapping slightly where I've tucked it into itself. Her gaze darts down, her tongue wetting her lips. I want her tongue on my lips, her mouth on mine. I grit my teeth, willing myself under control.

"Lie back," I say, and it comes out gruff. Strained.

Without a word, she does as I command, and the sight of her, night dress doing little to hide her sumptuous body, against our shared bed, brings a groan to my lips. I clamp down on it, refusing to let her hear my arousal.

The last thing I want to do is ruin her tenuous trust. I relish seeing her eyes hold something besides disdain.

The lid unscrews from the jar, and I dip my fingers in the cold ointment, spreading it liberally along her calf, her ankle.

"Oooh," she moans.

I freeze, my eyes half closed, my arousal somehow continuing to grow. To intensify.

Clenching my teeth, I begin massaging her swollen ankle and calf. She makes another low noise, and my gaze flies to her face. Her eyes are closed, lips still parted. The bedroll moves, her fingers tightening their grip on the fabric. Stars above and below.

"Am I hurting you?" My touch is feather light, and I know I'm not, but I want to hear her voice. I want to know what she sounds like when she's so damned sexy.

"No, it feels so good." It's a breathy moan, and my cock jerks, begging to be touched.

"Good," I manage, keeping my hands on her.

The trickle of water and the sound of Ali's rapid breathing are the only noises in the warded cave, and I can't tear my eyes from her face. Minutes slide by, my hands working up to her knee before I finally stop.

I have to stop.

I tear my hands away, and her eyes slowly open.

"Does it feel better?" My cock's so hard it's nearly painful, and when her eyes slip to the noticeable tent in the thin towel, I can't help the groan that escapes.

"No," she murmurs, her eyes sliding back to my face.

My forehead furrows. "It doesn't?" I replace my hands on her skin, gently kneading her calf again.

She half sits up, her weight on her elbows. Her hair falls around her face, pale silver reflecting the glow of the symbols throughout the cave.

"I'm sore from riding, too."

Stars above. I swallow hard, trying not to lose myself to the lust raging through me. I want her, I want her so very badly.

"Where do you want me to touch you?"

Her eyes locked on mine, she lifts her ankle from my grip. I let it go, hardly breathing. She sets her foot on one side of the bedroll. Then the other, until her legs are spread wide.

Slowly, torturously so, Ali carefully raises up, lifting the hem of the dress.

Until she's bared to me, pink and glistening and perfect.