He could hear her rattling around up in her bedroom while she waited for him to join her. Turning off the lights behind him, he hurried up the stairs, eager to claim his woman once again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Laurel Rose sat on a low-backed chair in front of her dresser, absently pulling a brush through her long hair. Her dark blue, silky bathrobe—faded from many years of wear and washing—covered her from neck to ankles. The sleeves were long and just touched her wrists, and the lapels formed a V shape, ending where it tied at the waist. She wished she had something nicer, something newer to wear.

  The light was muted in the room. She’d spread about a dozen votive candles around the room and only lit half of them. At least the lack of direct lighting hid the fraying cuffs of her robe and the general shabbiness of the room. She’d thought it would be romantic. But the tiny votive candles were slowly burning down. Stefan had not come upstairs as quickly as she’d expected.

  She was beginning to feel stupid just sitting there, brushing her hair in the candlelight. What did she know about romance? Maybe Stefan would just think she was being silly. Lowering the brush to her lap, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was pale and the scar on her right cheek seemed less prominent than usual, but it was still there, taunting her.

  Closing her eyes against the picture before her, she sighed. She just didn’t seem to be the kind of woman that men romanced. Maybe it was because she wasn’t exactly the feminine type. She didn’t wear fancy clothes or paint her nails, but that didn’t mean she didn’t long for romance as much as the next woman. Even before the accident, none of the boys had ever romanced her, not even her boyfriend. No man had ever brought her flowers or taken her out for a nice dinner. She was simply Laurel Rose, who hunted and fished as well as any of them. A girl whom many of them had considered strange.

  But she was what she was. She wasn’t about to change for anyone. The best thing to do was to blow out the candles, haul on her old nightgown, and crawl into bed. Stefan didn’t need to know about her pitiful attempt at creating a romantic setting.

  She opened her eyes and was held spellbound by the sight in the mirror. She hadn’t heard Stefan enter the room, but he was there, big and solid, standing right behind her. His eyes gleamed in the candlelight as he stared at her reflection.

  The best thing to do was to brazen it out. “I thought candles might be nice, but I was wrong.” She shrugged as if it didn’t really matter. He frowned as she leaned over and blew out the two candles on the dresser in front of her.

  She started to slide out of the chair, but his hands clasped her shoulders and exerted just enough pressure to keep her there. His thumbs traced the nape of her neck, making small circular motions that relaxed and aroused her at the same time.

  “You look lovely in candlelight.” His thumbs continued to graze up the side of her neck.

  She took a deep breath and shrugged again, her hands strangling the handle of the brush that she still held in her lap. “I should finish getting ready for bed.” Again, she tried to slide from the chair, and again he kept her there with a slight pressure from his hands.

  “You don’t believe me?” His voice was low and intimate in the dimly lit room. She wished she could see his reflection better and cursed herself for blowing out the dresser candles.

  “I know what I am.” Her hand involuntarily went to the side of her face, covering her scar. When she realized what she was doing, she dropped her hand back to her lap. He already knew what she looked like. There was no point in trying to hide it from him.

  “Ah,” he replied with a deep sigh. His low voice raised goose bumps on her arms. “But you do not see yourself the way that I see you.”

  “How do you see me?” She honestly wanted to know. She really had no idea how a man like Stefan—who’d probably been with many beautiful women—viewed her.

  Stefan lifted one of his hands from her shoulder and waved it in front of her. he candles on the dresser immediately jumped to life, their flames burning high. Laurel Rose gasped. He continually surprised her with his abilities. He winked at her in the mirror and then waved his hand again. Every unlit candle in the room flared to light, bathing it in a lovely soft glow.

  “Perfect.” He reached down into her lap and plucked her hairbrush from it. Examining the brush, he ran his fingers over the soft natural bristles. “This should do.”

  Laurel Rose swallowed a moan. It was just an inanimate object, but she felt as if he had stroked her body instead of the brush. Her breathing deepened, as did her curiosity.

  Starting at the top of her scalp, he drew the brush all the way down the length of her hair to where it fell past her waist. The natural bristles massaged her scalp as he once again drew them through her hair. It had been years since anyone had brushed her hair. Her mother had done it for her when she was a child, but it hadn’t felt anything like this. They were both completely dressed, and yet the act felt incredibly intimate and sensual.

  “What do I see when I look at you?” He continued his long, even strokes. “I see a woman of tremendous strength and integrity.” Leaning down, he whispered in her ear, “I see a woman who fills the emptiness inside me.” He nipped at her earlobe with his sharp white teeth, drawing it into his mouth and sucking it lightly before releasing it.

  Heat shot through her. That one simple touch had set her body on fire. Her breasts felt heavier with every breath she took, the tips scraping against the thinning fabric of her bathrobe. She wasn’t wearing any underwear. If she were, they would be damp from her growing desire. She ached for him, her inner muscles clenching hard, wanting him inside her.

  He swirled his tongue around the outer shell of her ear. This time she couldn’t swallow the moan of desire that welled up from deep within her. Stefan gave a low laugh, his pleasure obvious, and repeated the motion. “A woman who responds to me like no other.”

  He covered her neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses, nipping and sucking his way from her ear to the top of her shoulder. Laurel Rose shivered as her core continued to pulse with need.

  Straightening once again, he captured her gaze in the mirror. His eyes seemed even brighter than before—a brilliant green tinged with red. He made no attempt to hide the sharpness of his fangs as he smiled at her. Massively muscled and powerful, he stood solidly behind her. The large hand resting on her neck could snap it like a twig if he chose to. His psychic and physical strength were beyond measure. She was totally at his mercy, this man who was more than a mere mortal.

  She should have been terrified and repulsed. But it was arousal that surged through her body, need that pulsed through her soul. This was her man. There would never be another man for her. Nothing mattered but that. She embraced his differences, accepting them as he accepted hers. She tilted her neck to one side, offering herself to him.

  Stefan closed his eyes and a hard shudder racked his big body. His hand tightened briefly on her neck before he raised the other and began to brush her hair once again. This time the bristles stroked down the side of her neck, making her shiver.

  He slid both hands over her collarbone and slowly pushed back the fabric of her robe until her breasts were exposed. The tips of her breasts were puckered into tight buds and looked much darker against the pale mounds of her breasts. “Just look at how beautiful you are.” The brush slid between her breasts, the soft bristles gliding over her sensitive skin.

  Stifling a groan, she eased her torso to the side, trying to bring the brush closer to her breast, needing to feel the sweep of bristles against it. Stefan’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction, staring back at her from the mirror. He slowly dragged the brush around her breasts in a figure eight motion, coming close to, but never touching, the tips.

  “Stefan.” An order or a plea, she wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter. At her word, he brought the brush across the peak of her breast. She cried out as the soft bristles abraded her swollen nipple. Laurel Rose wiggled in her seat, trying to ease the ache between her legs that just kept gaining in intensity with every touch.

  “Again,” she prompted. Stefan teased her breast once more before drawing the bristles over the tip. “Oh, God,” she moaned. Each individual bristle stimulated the swollen nub. Her hips arched forward with each stroke.

  “Widen your legs and hook your feet around the sides of the chair.” Laurel Rose did as he asked, spreading her legs. It intensified the ache pulsing inside her.

  He wrapped his hand around the end of her belt and gave it a long, slow tug. The belt loosened as if in slow motion. The fabric fell away as he pushed both hands down her torso and belly. The bristles stroked her skin as he continued lower.

  He pushed the last fold of the robe out of his way. “Scoot your ass to the edge of the chair.” The motion left her sex totally exposed. “Now look at yourself. See what I see.”

  Unable to do anything but comply with his request, she stared into the mirror. The woman staring back was her, yet not her. Wanton and sexy, she perched on the edge of the chair with her legs wide open. Her pubic hair and upper thighs were damp with the evidence of her arousal and glistened in the candlelight. She was still wearing her robe. It covered her arms, framing her body. Her skin was flushed and her breasts rose and fell with every deep breath she took. Her nipples were tight and red, begging to be touched or tasted. She straightened her posture and arched her back slightly.

  Her hair hung down behind her in a curtain of black. In the candlelight, her eyes appeared darker, almost mysterious. The thought made her smile slightly, turning up the corners of her lips. She licked them and watched her tongue in the mirror as it traced their plump fullness.

  Stefan emitted a low growl from deep in his throat. Her gaze flew to his reflection. “You are so damned sexy.” Splaying one hand over her stomach, he held her in place and slowly lowered the hand that still clutched the brush.

  His knuckles were white where they were wrapped around the handle. Laurel Rose was pleased at this sign of his growing desire. Stefan had been too controlled these last few days, almost as if he was afraid to let loose and show her his true self. She was determined to make him as wild and out of control as he made her. Fair was fair.

  Stefan drew the brush over her pubic hair. The sensation was strange but arousing, and she squirmed on the seat. Using his long reach, he skimmed the bristles down her inner thigh and back up again. Then he did the same with the other leg. The slight prickle of the bristles massaging her skin was unbearable. Her breathing deepened, making her chest rise and fall in an almost hypnotic rhythm. The dampness between her thighs grew as cream continued to pulse from her core.

  “Stefan,” she moaned. She’d never been this turned on in her life. Stefan had tapped into a side of her she’d never known existed. With him she became sensual, more in tune with her body’s wants and needs.

  He kept his gaze locked on hers in the mirror as he dipped the brush between her thighs and drew it up one side of her swollen folds and down the other. Laurel Rose gripped the sides of the chair, her fingers digging into the wood. Oh my God. It felt—

  She had no words. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, panting for air.

  “Look at me.” His voice compelled her to obey. Her head fell forward, almost too heavy for her to hold upright. Desire thrummed through her veins. She was so very close to coming.

  This time he skimmed the brush straight over her core, the bristles lightly caressing her swollen clitoris. Laurel Rose cried out and pushed her hips forward. His free hand cupped her left breast and he gently squeezed her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He drew the brush over her sex again and again, varying the pressure each time.

  His eyes gleamed in the mirror as he continued to tease and torment her, keeping her on the edge of completion until she thought she’d go mad. He nuzzled her neck and scraped the sharp edge of his teeth against her skin. The sensation shot straight to her core, and this time when the bristles stroked over her clit, she came.

  Her entire body clenched hard and shook. She wanted to look away from the mirror but couldn’t. Stefan held her prisoner with his eyes. His teeth gleamed in the candlelight as he nipped at her neck. His fingers tightened around her nipple as she continued to convulse with pleasure.

  When she started to slide down in the chair, he dropped the brush. It clattered to the floor, forgotten. Stefan wrapped his hands around her waist, buried his face in her hair, and inhaled deeply. His fingers clenched against her stomach.

  As amazing as her orgasm had been, it wasn’t enough. Instead of fulfilling her, it left her feeling even emptier than before. She wanted—no, needed—to feel Stefan inside her. She wanted his hands gripping her hips as he drove himself deep within her. She wanted that closeness, that feeling of completion that came with loving him.

  Taking a deep breath, she leaned forward, pulling away from him. She sensed his reluctance to release her, but his arms slipped away from her. He never seemed to lose control, always aware of what she wanted and needed.

  Laurel Rose shrugged her shoulders. The fabric of her robe clung to her skin for the briefest of seconds before slipping down her back and arms, pooling itself around the chair. Shaking the robe from her hands, she removed the last barrier of her clothing.

  Stefan dragged in a deep breath and took a step back from the chair. He yanked his T-shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor. His gaze devoured her, searing her skin with the heat of his desire. “It is time.”

  The rich tone of his voice touched her deep inside. It was time. Time to claim him as thoroughly as he had claimed her. Slowly, she inclined her head in agreement.

  Chapter Twenty

  Stefan offered his hand to Laurel Rose. It was broad and sturdy and calloused. He was so strong, but she never worried he’d use that strength against her. When she wrapped her fingers around his, he gave a murmur of pleasure and drew her up from the seat. Shoving the chair out of the way, he turned her so she was facing away from him. Once again, she was struck by his sheer size as he stood behind her. She wasn’t a small woman, but Stefan was a force of nature—big and powerful.

  He pushed her hair out of her face, his long fingers sifting through the strands as he pulled them over her shoulders. Cupping her cheek with one hand, he traced her bottom lip with his thumb. Unable to resist, she licked at the tip of his thumb before drawing it into her mouth.

  Murmuring his encouragement, he shifted closer. The stiff fabric of his jeans and the hard, swollen length of him dug into her back. He splayed one hand over her belly and pulled her closer, grinding his erection into her.

  Laurel Rose sucked his thumb deeper into her mouth, licking at the base where it joined his hand. As she pulled her head back, she gently scraped her teeth over the sides. Giving it one final lick, she released it.

  Stefan lowered his hand to her breast and rubbed his moist thumb over the tip, coating the puckered nub until it was wet. Laurel Rose shivered. He kissed the nape of her neck and continued on down her spine. He lowered himself to a kneeling position behind her, his hands skimming over her sides and hips as he went. He continued to place wet, hot kisses over her spine until he reached the base. He dipped his tongue into the dimples just above her behind.

  She could no longer see his reflection in the mirror. All she could do was feel what he was doing to her. Her entire body quivered with desire. What would he do next?

  • • •

  Stefan inhaled, drawing the essence of Laurel Rose deep into his lungs. Every breath was a struggle for control. His cock would surely explode if he didn’t fuck her soon. He wanted to be inside her, but first he wanted to taste her, wanted to hear her scream his name as she came, wanted to brand her with his mouth and his hands.

  He wanted the entire world to know she belonged to him.

  These past few nights had been the best and the most difficult of his life. He’d come on so strong in the beginning of their relationship, practically overwhelming her with his presence and his demands. He’d wanted her to see another side of him and had been gentler, more considerate. He was paying for that restraint now.

  Growling, he ripped open the front of his jeans and allowed his cock to spring free. The head was wet and his shaft swollen and ready. His balls were drawn so tight and were so full he knew he wouldn’t last long. But, damn, he had to taste his woman first.

  He gripped her ass in his hands, testing the plumpness of the mounds. Firm and full, they filled his hands to perfection. He nipped at her bottom, loving the way she squirmed with desire. He could smell her growing need. It was intoxicating.

  Parting the globes of her behind with his fingers, he traced the puckered cleft with his thumb. “Lean forward and brace yourself on the dresser.” She immediately placed both hands on the top of the old dresser, the motion bending her forward. “Now spread your legs.” Once again, there was no hesitation. She shifted her stance, widening it.

  It was exhilarating how Laurel Rose responded to his every request, denying him nothing. He was almost drunk on the sheer pleasure of her. She was so open and giving in a way no other lover had ever been. She was special. She was his.

  Stefan adjusted her position slightly until he had her exactly where he wanted her. Totally naked, she was bent at the waist with her hands on the dresser. Her breasts hung down in front of her body, gleaming white in the candlelight. Her legs were spread apart, opening her sex totally for him. Kneeling behind her, there was no part of her he couldn’t see, couldn’t touch.

  “Perfect. Now don’t move.” Her breathy gasps were loud in the quiet of the room. The perfume of her desire surrounded him. The wetness of her arousal coated his fingers when he stroked a path over the slick folds of her pussy.

  Leaning closer, he blew on her heated flesh. She jerked in response and then moaned. Stefan nuzzled her sex, lapping at her with his tongue. She tasted salty and sweet and so damned good. He traced a path up one side and down the other, tasting and caressing every delectable inch. He circled her swollen clit with his tongue, finally relenting and touching it when she cried out his name. Sucking the nub between his lips, he flicked it with his tongue. Her juices flowed from her body. He sat back on his heels and licked his lips. Damn, she was sweet.