Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

A nother male had touched his female.

Tomlin's ability to think disappeared beneath a tidal wave of possessive instinct. The last week had not eased his driving urge to claim her. Instead it had intensified it to the point where he had become uneasily aware that it might already be impossible to leave her. And he certainly couldn't leave now, not when another male had dared to touch her, not when he could still smell him on her skin.

That's not the only reason I don't want to leave , the rational part of his mind whispered, but he ignored it as he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the lab. Even her clothes carried the taint and he ripped them away, leaving her bare and pale against the black stone worktop. His mate. His woman. He stripped off his own clothes with the same desperation, the need to replace another male's scent with his own becoming overpowering.

His cock pulsed and throbbed against his belly, longer and thicker than it had ever been before, and her eyes widened as he bent over her. He kissed the tempting curve of her neck, his teeth scraping against her skin as he made his way down across her collarbone to those small, perfect breasts. She urged him on with soft, wordless cries, her hands moving restlessly over his skin.

Her nipples were already thrusting eagerly into the air, waiting for his mouth. He growled again as he sucked one deep into his mouth, clamping his mouth around the tempting little bud. He was vaguely aware that he wasn't being as careful as usual but it didn't seem to matter, not with the scent of her arousal filling the air and her hands urging him on and her flesh sweet and willing beneath his mouth.

She tasted of home and family and acceptance, of everything he had ever wanted, driving his need even higher. He probed desperately between her legs, seeking the sweet, slick entrance to her body. He knew he needed to prepare her but she was already arching against his hand, her passage slippery wet as he thrust two fingers into her body. She cried out, the sound high and startled.

It was not a cry of pain, but it was shocked enough to penetrate his haze. He jerked his hand away and forced himself to lift his head from those enticing breasts, breasts so clearly marked with the evidence of his passion. His pleasure at the sight was immediately followed by guilt. How could he have treated her so roughly?

He flung himself away from her, fighting to quell the still rampant need as he reached blindly for the door. He had his hand on it when she spoke.

"Don't you dare."

Her voice was low and furious, harsh enough to make him stop. He deserved whatever she wished to say to him - but he had to regain control first.

"I need -"

"If you leave me now, don't bother coming back."

What? As often as he'd told himself that he should leave, he hadn't anticipated that she would send him away.

No. Mate.

He forced back a possessive growl as he turned back to her.

"You want me to leave?"

"No, dammit!" She was sitting up now, flushed and disheveled and far too tempting for his peace of mind. "I want you to stay! I want you to stop running away."

"I am too… dangerous."

"Oh for goodness sake." She slid down from the counter and stalked towards him like an avenging goddess, still naked, her hair like a fiery cloud around her shoulders. "You're not going to hurt me."

She jabbed her finger against his chest, then winced.

"How many times have you left me? Why can't you get it through your thick skull that if you have the strength to do that, you have the strength to control yourself. To not hurt me."

He wanted so desperately to believe her, but she had no idea of the savagery of his other half.

"I will not chance it," he said harshly, trying to grab for the doorknob again.

She darted in front of him, placing her warm, soft body between him and the door. Need threatened to overcome him once again as she glared up at him, her eyes sparkling with anger behind her glasses.

"Apparently you don't think I get a say in this, but I meant what I said. Either you stay and we work through this together or you leave. Forever."

No!

With a silent snarl, he released the doorknob and pushed her back against the door, pressing his body against her as he fought for control. Perhaps she understood his torment because her face softened a little, and she reached up to gently touch his cheek.

"Talk to me. Please. Why are you so convinced that you are dangerous?"

He managed to take a step back, then another, then paced across the lab and back.

"I have already… marked you."

He gestured at her breasts, trying to ignore an internal rush of satisfaction at the sight. She sighed, then picked up the shirt he'd ripped away and slipped it over her shoulders, although she didn't reach for the rest of her clothing.

"Why can't you believe that I enjoyed it? That I didn't want you to stop?"

"I'm afraid to believe it," he admitted. "Because what if you did? And what if I couldn't stop?"

"Why are you so afraid that's going to happen?"

"Because my father hurt my mother. Badly."

The truth emerged from his lips in an anguished whisper. She went utterly still for a moment, then took his hand, leading him over to the place where she slept and sat down, tugging him down next to her. He didn't resist, clinging to her hand as the warmth of her compassion flowed over him.

"Tell me," she said softly.

"I don't believe he meant to hurt her." The words came more easily now. "He… loved her, but he was in the grip of mating fever and she was untouched. She tried to get away from him and that only made things worse."

Her thumb stroked a soothing pattern across the back of his hand.

"A neighbor called law enforcement and they eventually managed to subdue him. As soon as they did, she fled as far and as fast as she could."

"Did she tell you this?" she asked, and he shook his head.

"She never said anything bad about him to me. She simply said that it had been a brief encounter."

She'd also told him that his father was a crew member on one of the ships that visited the port, but he knew she'd only done that to protect him and he couldn't blame her for lying once he knew the truth.

"I learned pieces of it here and there. She rarely spoke about him but as I grew older I sensed both fear and… longing. After she died and I went to stay with my relatives, I found out more."

Everything they had told him had been full of hate, but there had been shadows of truth beneath the harsh words. He'd also found a letter she'd sent to her sister right after she'd first met his father. She'd told her sister that she was in love. How could she have foreseen that things would go so wrong?

He hesitated for a moment, then added, "I learned the rest from my grandmother."

"Your grandmother?"

"Grethel was my grandmother, although I didn't find out until it was too late."

She'd been dying before she finally admitted the truth to him, and the agony of that betrayal still ached.

"Why?" he demanded. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She'd known how much he longed for a family.

"Because you would have wanted to know the truth," she whispered. "And there were things that I couldn't bring myself to tell you."

"What things?"

The sorrow on her face made his heart ache despite his own pain.

"That I was the one who killed him."

He reeled back, too shocked to even speak as she continued her confession.

"By the time he found his way out of the human jail, it was too late. He was insane with mating fever. He would have forged a path of death and destruction across this planet until he found her. And when he did, he would have hurt her again."

Withered fingers plucked restlessly at the blanket covering her.

"I couldn't permit it. I gave him a potion, told him it would help him find her. Instead, he went to sleep and he never woke up."

He couldn't even begin to comprehend how much that decision must have cost her. Pieces that hadn't quite fit before began to fall into place.

"You knew, didn't you, when you found me in the market?"

A spark of her usual spirit had returned.

"Of course I did. A Krythian always knows her own flesh and blood." The spark faded, replaced by sorrow. "When I helped your mother leave, I didn't realize she was with child. I wish we had remained in contact, that I had known."

Telling him the truth seemed to release her. She'd died within the hour.

Etta was still stroking his hand, and he didn't feel any horror coming from her, only sorrow.

"I understand your fear, but you do know you're not your father, don't you?"

"I have his blood," he said bitterly.

"But you have your mother's as well. And Grethel's."

She released his hand and he expected her to leave. Instead she shocked him by climbing into his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I trust you, Tomlin. Make love to me."