Free Marked for Danger by Jennifer Leeland Page A

responded. She wanted to drop to her knees, to bow her head. It was instinctive, impulsive.
    And when he said the word “Master,” she had such an intense longing that she almost moaned from the force of it. Waiting, needing, dying for his touch. This man she didn't know. This man with a matching mark who had saved her life.
    "Please,” she begged him. “Touch me."
    A low growl rumbled in his throat, and he jerked her in his arms. The mark flared hotter, sending needles of pain along her nerves. But pleasure and pain were blurred for Carina, and she wanted it all.
    He plundered her mouth like a marauder, taking and taking until she had no breath, no will, nothing but pleasure. He gripped her shoulders, and when she raised her hands to touch him, he shifted until he restrained her arms behind her back. The blanket dropped away, and she gasped as her naked skin rubbed against the rough fabric of his shirt.
    At his mercy, she wondered if she'd done this before, surrendered body and soul to this stranger. Yet the flavor of him, the feel of him, was right.
    Suddenly, he broke the kiss and stepped back, removing all contact with her. She felt bereft and cold. She kept her gaze downcast, instinctively knowing this was what she was supposed to do.
    "Look at me,” he said in a low tone.
    She glanced up and cringed at the grim expression on his face. His lips tightened, and he held up her arm. Her mark glowed fiery red. His was blazing as well. His cock was iron hard, and she resisted the urge to capture the length in her hand. What the hell was wrong with her? She didn't know him, and yet she wanted him.
    He held her gaze and said in a whisper, “It's the hormones. I will not take advantage of this."
    She tried to understand what he meant. “You were right. About what I felt."
    He groaned and closed his eyes. Gently, he picked the blanket up and draped it over her shoulders, covering her. “It's all instinct. Believe me, machinka. It's just lust.” He glared at the crowd. “Proof enough?"
    Atlana bowed her head. “More than enough."
    Xandros pulled up his pants. “Perhaps we could find somewhere less public to talk."
    The woman nodded and waved her hand to a small cottage. “Certainly."
    It was beginning to sink in. Xandros had dominated her, knowing she was a submissive. The words were there and the meaning of them, but Carina didn't know how she knew them. He'd proven their bond and didn't need to kiss her. But she'd begged him, and he'd “obliged.” Bitterly, she accepted that she'd created the very scenario she'd been afraid of in the first place.
    Yet she couldn't help feeling he'd manipulated her. The frustration of not remembering and the humiliation of her capitulation to a man who was essentially a stranger to her combined to put sneer in her tone. “I hope you enjoyed yourself,” she said.
    Something skirted at the edge of her consciousness. She'd said those words before. To him.
    Everything began to spin, and she tried to hold on to the moment. When had she said those words? How had she known this man? But the memories flitted away, leaving her frustrated and angry. And dizzy.
    "Let it go, Carina. Don't try and remember.” His voice came from far away.
    She realized he'd taken her in his arms and was carrying her. Her instinct screamed to fight him, get away from him, but she was too weak. Another part of her wanted to snuggle closer to him, wind her arms around him like a vine so there was no space between them.
    This was insane.
    She took a deep breath and kept her eyes closed. When she opened them, Xandros had carried her into a small hut. He dropped her to her feet near a cushioned chair and waited until she was seated. Then he stepped away abruptly, backpedaling from any contact with her as if she were contaminated.
    She wished he hadn't removed his touch. The feeling of safety left with him. Even though part of her resented his claim on her, she didn't want him to go too far away. He didn't even look