He started from the beginning again, kissing his way from her chin, down her throat, to the swell of her breasts. Soft. Silk. Perfection. He was lost in his exploration for a few minutes, giving himself the sheer pleasure of feasting on her, watching the way his tongue, teeth and the heat of his mouth kept tension in her coiling deep. He spent time at each of the scars, his tongue moving in a soothing, caressing motion, mapping them, holding her to him, savoring the taste of her, even as he memorized every inch of her body.

Maestro ran his palms from her belly to her thighs. Moved his hands down her legs to her ankles in a slow claiming. He wanted the shape and feel of her imprinted not just in his brain but in his bones. He wanted to know she would allow him to touch her anywhere they were. He wanted closeness with her.

When they talked, he wanted her in his lap. He needed to hold her close to him. Her kisses were pure fire, and he knew he’d never get enough of them. It was important to him to know she wouldn’t mind if he slid his hand under her clothing to touch her bare skin. That need wasn’t about ownership. He wasn’t an exhibitionist, nor did he want other men to think his woman was his plaything. He wanted respect for her because she deserved respect. He knew he would need to touch her intimately at times, to stroke his fingers along her belly or hips, but not where others could see.

At the same time, it would never bother him to have his brethren close, even if he was making love to her. That was something he would have to discuss with her. So many things he needed her to understand. So many things she would have to put up with. What was he giving her in return? How was he ever going to make the two sides of their relationship equal?

Very gently he tugged her thighs apart, keeping them wide enough for his shoulders. He had wide shoulders. Very wide. She was gorgeous. A beautiful woman in need of what he could give her. He was going to take his time, ensure she felt nothing but pleasure. He might not have a lot to give her, other than his protection and this.

“Bog, but you’re so beautiful. A gorgeous woman, Azelie. I have no idea how I got so lucky, but I’m not a stupid man. Fate handed you into my care, and I intend to keep you.”

He saw the sudden flicker of indecision creep into her eyes. He couldn’t have that, couldn’t allow her to think too much. This was about feeling.

“I wonder how many times I can make you scream my name,” he murmured, distracting her on purpose.

She shook her head, eyes clinging to his. “I don’t scream, but I might whisper your name a lot.”

She was serious. Somber. He bent his head to breathe warm air against her inner thigh. She gasped, and her leg jerked in his hand. He tightened his grip, holding her in place.

“Andrii,” she whispered. Just as she’d said she might.

He met her startled blue gaze and gave her a faint grin. One that said he was in control, and she might not scream his name, but she would be pleading for mercy.

He’d had enough of being alone, of feeling as if he wasn’t worth a damn. Azelie changed the way he thought about himself. He had no idea how, but he’d face death every single day to keep her.

“Stop making me wait,” she demanded. Impatience was there in her voice. Anticipation. The blue in her eyes had gone royal.

He decided it was about time to put them both out of their misery. Bending slowly, he pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh and gently sucked. Sipped. Whispered how he felt about her, so the sound was muffled against her silky skin. Just touching her bare skin knotted his stomach, putting a fist of desire so large there that he was shocked.

He didn’t feel sensations the way others apparently did. That had been tortured out of him when he was a kid. He’d had to be in total control of his cock because it was a matter of life and death—to him and his partner when he was learning. In one moment with Azelie, just inhaling her scent, just being close, simply observing her, his body came to life. Kissing her destroyed any control completely. They detonated together and his cock went into a frenzy of need for her. It was a little terrifying, as well as exhilarating, to feel as if he was truly alive.

He kissed his way up and down the inside of her thigh, occasionally stopping to suck gently. In places a little harder. He nipped. Swirled his tongue to soothe the brief sting. He wanted to leave his mark on her. He wanted her mark on his skin.

Azelie’s breath came out in a hiss of need. She squirmed. Shifted her hips restlessly. A little moan escaped when he tightened his grip on her thighs in warning.

“I don’t know if I can take this,” she whispered.

“We’re just getting started,” he warned.

“I was afraid of that.” But she stopped trying to retreat from him. Instead, when he tightened his grip, she seemed to widen her legs even more to accommodate him. Showing she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Maestro kissed his way up her inner thigh, one small increment at a time until he felt the heat of the junction between her legs. Where she wept for him, beckoned and enticed with her feminine scent.

His cock felt like a monster, aching, hurting, desperate to be free of the material putting pressure on him. He tore down the zipper with one hand so that his engorged shaft and balls were free of the prison. Thunder roared in his ears. Lightning ripped through his veins. He took the time to free himself completely, shedding his jeans fast, grateful he’d removed his boots earlier.

The cool air on his body didn’t alleviate the heat rushing through his bloodstream. It didn’t give him back any of the control he needed. He found himself struggling to take his time. She softly moaned as he spread kisses from her thigh to the back of her knee and then back up to the little tangle of fiery curls shielding her slick lips.

“You taste like pure heaven, Zelie.” He didn’t lift his head to see her reaction. He didn’t need to. Her body shivered and arced closer to his mouth, desperate for more. He took his time, knowing the anticipation would heighten her pleasure. He blew a steady stream of heated air, gentle but constant, and then when she was squirming, he licked at the fiery honey liquid. She whimpered and lifted her hips to him.

“So responsive, Solnyshkuh.” Again, he didn’t raise his head, too far gone himself to leave where he wanted to be most. He leaned into her, settling his mouth over her clit, tongue fluttering gently.

Azelie gasped, a small broken cry escaping. She jerked her legs and hips as if she might try to flee. He found himself smiling as his eyes met hers.

“Baby, we’re just getting started. I plan on spending time right here.” He blew more warm air. “Savoring the taste of you.” He loved her taste. Was already addicted to it. “There isn’t going to be any running.”

“You need to hurry.” Her little demand was whispered.

That was his woman. Rarely speaking above a soft sound. Even the laughter he was so addicted to hearing was soft, as captivating and enticing as it was.

“You need to know something about your man, Zelie. I’m the one in control here. I always will be. If I want to take my time, we’re taking time.” He swiped his tongue along that delicious slit that beckoned. “I definitely want to take my time and you need to be ready for me.”

“I am ready for you.” There was a plea in her voice.

“No, you’re not. You just feel like you are. I don’t want you to experience anything but pleasure, so we’re doing this my way.” He would have done it his way regardless, but he meant what he said. He had no intention of her feeling anything but sheer bliss. That meant taking his time and building her need slowly. Preparing her body. It was his good luck that his pleasure was all about bringing it to her.

“I’ve never felt anything like this,” she confessed. “It feels so good it’s a little scary.”

His woman was giving him that starry-eyed adoration he’d come to look for. “You’re in good hands, baby. Just keep trusting me. I’m going to make you feel a whole lot better.”

He was just as addicted to that look on her face, the one that said he was incredible, the most amazing lover on the planet. They hadn’t even gotten started yet and she was already certain of his abilities. But then she didn’t have anything to judge this experience by. He intended that to never happen. He was determined to be her only. Ever.

Spreading her thighs wider, he shifted his weight, placing her legs over his forearms. One hand on her belly, fingers splayed wide to hold her still, he dipped his head and began his feast. Slow, delicious licks. Flicks with this tongue. Teasing her. A slow burn that built and built, sneaking up on her until it was a fiery inferno.

He was careful not to give her exactly what was needed to get her off. Very gently he brushed her clit with the pads of his fingers. He circled that sensitive little button and then replaced his fingers with his tongue. Azelie gasped and gave him that same little broken whisper of a cry when he curled a long finger inside her, finding her most sensitive spot and stroking.

Maestro pulled back when he felt the tightening of her body, the hot slickness. He replaced his finger with his tongue, a unique weapon that made her go a little wild. He plunged his tongue into her, withdrew, and did it again and again. Truthfully, he felt a little wild himself. He prided himself on control, yet he knew he was on the verge of tipping over the edge.

He loved her taste. He loved her response to him, the way she thrashed under him. The little whimpers and moans. The sight of her needing him. Her fragrance enveloped him, driving him nearly out of his mind. Her skin was rose-petal soft, flushed now with desire. When he moved one finger in her, the silken walls of her channel were scorching hot, her need growing for his full, painful cock.

Once again, he slowed things down, nuzzling her, running his nose along her inner thighs, all the while inhaling deeply to breathe her in. He wanted to keep her in his lungs forever.

“Andrii.” Her little whisper was back. A moan. A plea. “You have to do something. I’m burning up.”

He was burning up as well. Aching. Needing. But this was for her. “Have to make sure you can take me, baby.”

Her eyes widened. “I can,” she announced solemnly. Certain.

She was tight around his finger, and his cock was much larger than his finger. Her silken muscles tightened. She was coiled tight. Her body was flushed with heat, the flames dancing through her veins licking at her nerve endings.

The fire roared through him. Raged. He wanted to be inside her. Sharing her skin. Her body. Once more he put his mouth on her. Sucked. Flicked. Worked her hard, brought her so close numerous times until she was thrashing beneath him.

Maestro lost himself in her, in the wonder of her body. The miracle of real feeling. He used every bit of his skills, tongue, teeth, lips, fingers. Worshipping her. Losing himself in the exquisite taste of her. Her feminine fragrance. He would know her anywhere. Her soft skin. Like silk or satin. Then there was that emotion welling up, coming close to overwhelming him. Was that what love felt like? Because he’d never known that emotion, but what he felt for her was all-encompassing. He couldn’t ever take the chance of losing her.

“Andrii,” she wailed his name, her body close. So close.

He felt the tightness coiling in her belly. Her thighs went rigid as the scorching-hot silken muscles clamped around his fingers. This time he didn’t stop.

“Andrii—” She broke off, her hips bucking with need.