Page 48 of Eternal Devotion

In no time, we entered a room. It was chillier than the rest of the house, and a sweet, minerally aroma of rain hung in the air. The heavy drapes covering the window billowed, emitting broken daylight around their edges as a soft breeze blew.

Shapes I recognized took form in the dimness. It was the room where we’d discovered the collection of paintings and artifacts. Those items seemed to have been relocated. In their place was an elegantly adorned king-size canopy bed, an oversized dresser, and a freestanding wardrobe. Even without proper illumination, I could tell they were finely made.

Mordecai did not turn on a light. He spun to face me, his pale skin luminescent, his eyes captivating, almost glowing in the dark. “Undress.”

“You don’t want to help?”

“I want to watch.”

So, I undressed, slowly and methodically, ignoring the brisk temperature of the room and the way it pimpled my skin. I wouldn’t be cold for long. First, I removed my shirt, then my pants, underwear, and socks. Naked, blistered with goose bumps and trying not to shiver, I waited for instructions.

Mordecai wet his lips, leaving a glistening trail. Without my having to ask, he unbuttoned his dress shirt, one tiny loop at a time, revealing a path of porcelain skin, hairless but for a faint trail leading from his navel south.

Next, he unbuckled his belt, lowered the zipper on his trousers, and pushed them down. He kicked his shiny dress shoes aside and stepped out of the pants, leaving him in underwear. The briefs hugged his body in all the right places, cradling the promises of a wonderful night ahead. I couldn’t help drinking him in, mouth pooling, fingers twitching to touch every part of him.

If he was cold, I couldn’t tell.

Mordecai’s gaze caught mine.

Lust, desire, and need reflected back at me.

I indicated his unshed drawers. “Are you stopping there?”

“No.” He reached for the band of his underwear as he took me in with the same intensity he had in the kitchen, but before he shed the final article of clothing, his gaze stalled on my sternum.

Tension stiffened his spine, and a deep frown pushed his brows together.

Confused, I reached up and touched the St. Christopher pendant. A flash of memory surfaced. Mordecai jerking back. A cry of pain.

“Remove it,” he growled, startling me from the unexpected recall.

Ejecting those thoughts from my mind and without questioning the unusual demand, I reached behind my neck and undid the clasp. Locating my pants, I slipped the necklace inside a pocket for safekeeping.

“Better?”

“Yes.”

The strange request sparked curiosity and more questions, but I didn’t want to engage in a conversation. I wanted this peculiar man who’d appeared in my life unexpectedly to take me to bed.

I stepped forward, intent on helping him remove the last piece of clothing, but Mordecai retreated, a wicked smile curling his lips.

I followed, matching his retreat. When he was within a foot of the bed, I snagged his waist, and we toppled onto the mattress. Our mouths collided in a bruising kiss. I wanted to devour him, drink him in, drown in the moment.

Before I could guide the encounter, Mordecai took control. With more strength than I expected, he secured his legs around me and rolled us until I was beneath him. He pinned my arms over my head.

His blond hair hung like a curtain between us, eyes like fire and ice. He feathered his lips over mine without kissing, then slid them along the curve of my jaw.

Next to my ear, he hissed, “It’s best if you let me take charge, Ensley. You don’t want me to lose control.”

He flicked his tongue over my earlobe, stealing a taste.

I chuckled, curling my shoulder at the tickling sensation. “I do, actually. Desperately.”

Mordecai raked his teeth over the same spot before drawing the delicate skin into his mouth and sucking. “Behave, Ensley. Lie still a moment and let me taste you.”

“Will I get a turn?”

He didn’t respond, but in the next breath, Mordecai was everywhere. I had to close my eyes from the dizzying overload of sensations. His tongue and teeth marked a path over my shoulder, danced across my collarbones, and traveled lower. He trailed the tip of his nose between my pecs as he released my hands and raked his fingernails down the length of my arms, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to leave a sting of scored flesh.