Free The Spellbound Bride by Theresa Meyers

He was once again merely being used for his skills, then discarded.
    Of course he wanted her and could enjoy the mating, but that wasn’t enough anymore. Not since Mary had made him feel like a rutting animal when he’d touched her, then tossed him aside for money.
    Sorcha’s hands spread over his chest, making fire explode across his skin.
    "Ian."
    Her use of his given name melted away the bitterness with the greater heat of desire.
    She moved her hands across him, fanning the flame.
    "I ask you be a husband to me this one night only to save my life. They will burn me if I can’t prove I’m not a devil’s maiden."
    How could he resist the temptation she so willingly offered? He pulled her against him, letting the want of her overrule his self-loathing at his own needs.
    The soft swell of her breasts and short, quick breaths only fed his hunger. Loving her would be sweet. He’d desired her the moment he’d touched her in the wood. He had every intention of bedding his new wife eventually, but she would know he did it not because of weakness, nor for coin. It would be because she wanted him to.
    Ian held her gently, his fingers threading into the warm black silk of her hair and cupping the back of her head as he tried desperately to ignore the warm feminine scent of her.
    "What am I to do with you, lady of the wood?"
    Sorcha locked her piercing eyes on him, a serious calm stilling her features, but a playful smile making her full lips even more inviting to his kiss.
    "Just about anything you like, so long as it involves divesting me of my virginity."
    Her long fingers mimicked his own earlier actions at the ceremony, tracing his cheek and skimming along his jaw. The feather-light caress brought a blinding rhythm to his blood, the rhythm growing faster and harder as her touch lingered.
    Ian blew out a slow, deliberate breath. His baser animal rose to the surface, overcoming his logic. The thinness of his voice betrayed his dwindling control.
    "Aye."
    Sorcha lifted his hand to her mouth, her skin many shades lighter than his own weathered hide. Her lips parted, the whispered warmth of her words seared his senses. She pressed a kiss to the center of his palm, just as he had to her in the wood. Her lips were moist, soft and hot, which made him immediately think of what else might be.
    Ian tore his hand from her grasp and swiftly pulled her to him. He kissed her, harder and with more intent, than he had at the ceremony. She tasted of honey mead and temptation. He pulled back, aware his aggressiveness might frighten her.
    The soft subtleness of passion had brought a rosy stain to her cheeks. He inhaled the floral fragrance lingering in her hair and the gossamer womanly scent that cloaked her skin.
    A seductive smile blossomed, making her seem all the more enchanting. Rather than frightening her, his aggressive kiss made her bolder. She lifted up on her toes and kissed him with passion enough to make the pulsing in his body spread from head to toe.
    For an instant, suspicion tempered his need. He swallowed hard. Was she an accomplished liar? Did she feign her interest? A chill brushed his heated skin. Had the others, who had died in this room, been political pawns or sacrifices to a blacker side of her soul? Damn him, but he didn’t much care. He wanted her. All of her. Now.
    Ian felt the swell of her hips grind against his rigid shaft. Need surpassed suspicion. He groaned, claiming her mouth.
    Sorcha pressed herself against him, matching his own intensity. Ian slid his hands down the length of her back and across her bottom, exploring her shape as he continued to kiss her.
    His experienced hands eased the fabric away from her shoulder, allowing it to drop down far enough to reveal the ripe curve of her breast to his roaming touch. He grazed the soft white silk of it with his finger, eliciting a soft whimper from her. This was more like he expected.
    The door burst open.
    Sorcha thrust away from him, shielding herself with