“Damn it, Saria, you’ll hate me in the morning. Breathe through this, it will pass. You have to take control of her. If you touch me, I won’t be able to stop myself. You have no idea what happens to a male when his woman is close to the Han Vol Dan. I’m on a thin edge, baby. Try for me. Saria, please, honey, just try for me.”

The pleading in his voice was both an aphrodisiac and a red light. She loved that she made his body hard and that he was nearly as out of control as she was. His eyes had gone gold, that shimmering, priceless gold she couldn’t resist, but he’d called her his woman. She was his. She wanted to be his. She wanted him to bite her shoulder and claim her, not some horrible bastard who cared nothing for her feelings. Drake shook with the effort to hold himself back—for her. She could easily see his concern for her. Few people ever seemed to genuinely worry about her.

She took a deep breath, her head hanging low while her hips pushed up and back, the need so terrible she felt tears running down her face, but she managed to stay right where she was, only feet from him. She could smell his wild scent with every breath she drew into her body. She could taste him in her mouth, an addicting, feral tang she began to crave.

“I want you to claim me.” There was sheer seduction in her voice, a husky, desperate pleading that came out more of a wanton purr. “Like he did. Mark me like he did. I don’ want his scent on me. I want yours on me . . .” She raised her eyes to his. Her vision seemed strange, banding with colors. “I want yours in me.”

“Baby, you’re killing me,” Drake whispered.

His eyes were completely gold, watching her with a heavy-lidded dark sexual intent. Sensuality was stamped in his tough features, on his mouth. Her body inched forward toward him of its own accord and his hand dropped low, to absently stroke that hard bulge. The sight of him, so darkly erotic, sent another wave of fire crashing through her body.

She forced herself to stop again, dragging in air, the sound harsh and ragged. “I’ll try if you promise to do it—to mark me as yours.”

A sound escaped his throat, half growl, half groan. “Your leopard will settle soon. If you still want me to do it after she retreats, I will. But it has to be your decision when you’re not in the midst of a thrall. You have to want me, not just any male because your leopard is out of control.”