She held her silence and studied him. A bit of shock at his boldness definitely painted her expression, but there was consideration, too. A woman reevaluating decisions made and future possibilities.

He slid his hands inward, teasing the line of her collarbone with his thumbs. She had amazing skin. So soft. Like the softest powder and silk combined. Never had he enjoyed touching a woman so much as when he’d lain with her. The feel of her beneath his hands and her uninhibited response.

“I understand your fear,” he said. “All you’ve known are the movies you’ve seen and reports in the news. But my family is not like any other.” A few more inches inward and his thumb grazed the fluttering pulse at her throat. His was just as ragged. Unsteady and quivering at the mere thought of the words still poised on his tongue.

He forged ahead anyway. Honored the instinct pushing him to take and claim what was his. What something in him had always recognized on the most primal level. “You are a part of it now.”

She trembled, and her breath hitched, eyes widening like that of a startled doe even though hunger and need burned behind them. “That’s the part we need to talk about. We were just supposed to be partners. I was going to help you and look for stories along the way.”

“I changed my mind. You will not help me on this matter any longer. We will not be partners.” He couldn’t help himself anymore. Didn’t want to. Had kept himself in check and lied to himself and her long enough. He slid one hand upward and cupped the back of her head, the other coasting down her spine and pulling her flush against him. “You will be mine.”

He kissed her. Swallowed her startled gasp and reveled in her taste. In the sweet give of her lips beneath his as she slowly surrendered, and the soft press of her body.

This was why her denial had cut so deeply. No matter how his mind had spun it to cushion his ego after the fact, their connection was electric. Powerful as only something this natural could be. There was no awkwardness. No feigned response or tepid reactions, but an intrinsic connectedness that both rattled and awakened him.

He fisted his hand in her hair, the barbarous need to feel her bare skin against his and her arms and legs coiled around him as he took her more incentivizing than a gun pressed against the back of his head.

But he couldn’t go there with her. Not yet. Not until he knew she was with him. That she understood what she was stepping into and who and what he really was.

He broke the kiss and rested his forehead on hers, praying for control. For the right words and actions.

“Kir.” His name on her lips was a plea, her breath just as ragged as his own. She pulled her head away from his and met his gaze. “We need to talk about this. What you’re suggesting...it’s too fast. We barely even know—”