He wasn’t going to lie to her. He couldn’t lie to her, not about this. Something unimportant, something that got him what he knew they both wanted, that was different. Harmless. This wouldn’t be harmless.
“Briefly.”
Her chin lifted and he could smell the tears that sparkled in her eyes. “Did you spend more than a few thrusts and grunts with her? Or was I just the anomaly?”
“Anya.”
“Answer me, Del-Rey.” Her voice was calm, though it throbbed with pain. “Come on, Coyote Man. Tell me. Did you spend hours with her or minutes?”
“What I did to you was unconscionable,” he stated heavily. “And I regret it, Anya, with every fiber of my being.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.” Her lips trembled before she firmed them quickly. “Hours or minutes, Del-Rey?”
“Hours.”
She was breathing roughly. Pain emanated from her with a scent that was mixed with more than just pride.
“Well, can’t call you a liar now, can I?”
“Anya.” He shook his head. “I would give my life to go back and make that night what it should have been. I lost control, and when it was over, I had no idea how to deal with it, or what I felt coming from you. The mating heat cheated us, together. I tried to explain that to you afterward, after we arrived here. It would never be that way again.”
She stared at him accusingly. “I was a virgin.”
“I know that, baby.” He ached with that knowledge. Ached with a fire and a fury he couldn’t quell, hadn’t quelled since the moment he realized what he had done.
“Leave me alone.”
Anya knew she was going to cry. She had never imagined Del-Rey had slept with a woman she could possibly know, let alone spent hours pleasuring her body. Touching her. Stroking her.
“Anya, we need to talk about this.” He pushed his fingers through his mussed hair. “Ignoring it isn’t going to work. I won’t let you go.”
She shuddered at the sound of his voice, part growl, part rasp of anger.
“You should have cared!” she cried. “You should have cared enough to at least hold me when you finished. You left me, Del-Rey. Cold and alone, and suffering that damned heat as though something were inside my body tearing it apart. You couldn’t even hold me.”
Oh God, don’t let her cry. Don’t let him see how bad this hurt her.
“You f**king bastard!” Her fists clenched and there was nothing to hit. “You screwed her? The slut of the Chernov facility? You spent hours f**king her? Or just hours giving her pleasure?”
“Enough of this!” He crossed the room, gripped her arms and gave her a firm shake. And she wanted to hate him. She wanted to hate him so bad it ate into her soul like acid, and all she could do was hurt, because one of the few people in this world that she did hate had f**ked the man she loved.
“Listen to me, Anya, what happened that night will never, ever happen again. I swear it to you. The next time I touch you it will be in gentleness. Hours, baby.” One hand cupped her face as his expression twisted.
Anya couldn’t stand it. She didn’t want to see gentleness on his face now. She didn’t care.
“You break your promises, remember, Del-Rey?” she whispered painfully. “Did you break your promises to Sofia?”
“I made no promises to Sofia,” he rumbled. “Stop this.”
Her head jerked up as she forced herself to contain the pain rising inside her. It hurt. It hurt to the bottom of her soul to see that woman in his arms, to know he had pleasured her, spent hours doing so, and she hadn’t deserved so much as a few moments of foreplay.
“I’ll be more than happy to stop it.” Her breath hitched with the pain. “As soon as you leave my room. I have a party to get ready for, remember?”
“You do not order me, Mate,” he growled. “Don’t make the mistake of believing you do.”
Anya watched his eyes flash, the black deepening, showing a hint of raven’s blue as his expression tightened, his hands flexing on her arms as she felt herself backed into the wall.
“Oh so fierce, Del-Rey,” she snapped. “I catch another woman in your arms, a woman you spent hours f**king, and I shouldn’t feel cheated? Doesn’t work that way. You cheated me and you know it and now you expect me to just accept that things will be different? That you can control yourself? Go to hell!”
“Keep running your mouth, Mate, and we’ll see how fast that mating heat can jump back into your system. Don’t push me like this.”
“I dare you!” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.
Cassandra had warned her: never dare a Coyote. She’d been pushed past the point of caring. Sofia had had what should have been hers. Hours of pleasure, and she should just calmly accept it?
“What the hell did you say to me?” His voice deepened, roughened.
“You heard me, Alpha,” she sneered. “I dare you.”
It was the wrong thing to say. He’d warned her years ago never to dare him. He took dares and bets seriously. Both challenged that core of animal genetics within him, and in some situations, well, in this situation, he had no intention of pulling back.
He jerked one hand from her arm, speared it into her hair and jerked her head back.
“You little witch,” he snarled down at her. “You’re not pissed off because of some long-forgotten affair with Sofia. You’re pissed because you believe she had something you didn’t.”
“She had plenty that I didn’t,” she ground out. “She had a man. What the hell did I have, Del-Rey? Slam, bam, knot you, ma’am? It sucked. And you sucked for daring to allow me to walk into my own bedroom and see that affront to the paltry excuse for sex you gave me.”
Enough was enough. He growled low and hard, his lips coming down on hers, his tongue striking sure and deep past the parted curves, as she met his kiss and gave her own.
Her nails bit into his biceps for long, shocked seconds as he felt her lips close over his tongue and her hungry moan filled the room.
There it was. Fuck. Hell. Control. He vowed control. Had sworn for eight months he would love her slow and easy if he ever had the chance again, but all he could do was devour her mouth, her lips.
The glands at the side of his tongue throbbed fierce and hard as he fought to push back the animal rising inside him, striving for satisfaction. Nearly nine months without her. Too many months, too many weeks craving her. He could count the hours if he could clear his head enough.