Free Parallel Heat by Deidre Knight

his approaching infertility. If they were to part ways right now, it was quite likely that he might never cycle again, which could mean the end to his line after nearly a thousand years of unbroken succession. It could mean the end to their dreams of a family and children and a life together—apart from the war. Gods, it was unfair, being asked to make such impossible decisions!
    Leaping to his feet, he paced the room again and gestured toward their bed. ‘‘Only we know what happens between these sheets, Kelse,’’ he argued, feeling his pulse skitter wildly. ‘‘Only we know what’s starting here, between us, this . . . this uncontrollable need .’’ He halted beside his wife, gazing into her beautiful blue eyes, and the flecks of gold in them electrified his entire body. At once the letter seemed less important, as did the strategy of sending her far away; those thoughts were replaced by a far more significant compulsion: the urge to mate. Now!
    Wildly, he tugged his T-shirt over his head, and stood before his wife wearing only his uniform pants. With a wicked grin, he noticed how she licked her lips at the sight of his bare chest, her gaze flicking up and down the length of him. They were newlyweds, in some ways barely known to each other; every time she got a good look at his muscular body, he saw how it pleased her—which always, without fail, satisfied him to the very core. He felt warm heat flood his cheeks.
    ‘‘You like what you see, don’t you, mate?’’ he purred at her, unsnapping his pants with an easy flick of his wrist. He took another step toward her. ‘‘You like my body very much.’’
    ‘‘Jared!’’ she cried, half laughing, half urgent. ‘‘We’ve got to deal with this.’’ She gestured toward the letter in his hand.
    He allowed his pants to slide to the floor, pooling at his ankles so that he stood before her in all his naked, proud glory. His prominent erection leaped at the knowledge that they would come together again in mere moments. She would be his, again. They would mate. Again. And again and yet again. He growled his pleasure at the simple thought of joining with her that way.
    ‘‘Jared,’’ she protested softly, appealing to his higher nature, but there was only one thing his D’Aravnian self could think of at the moment. Mating. And mating some more . . .
    Good grief, Kelsey thought. Now that the man is at the edge of his season, all his earlier shame about his mating urges has fallen away completely . It was apparent that Jared was about to toss the letter aside and ravish her, a thought that caused her own body to quake with a fevered wash of desire.
    His eyes narrowed hungrily and he blew out a hot breath, reaching a hand to stroke his proud, hardened length. For a moment he stood gazing at her, slowly touching himself, even as he devoured her with his black gaze.
    ‘‘You were saying?’’ he whispered, sliding one knee onto the side of the bed, edging much closer toward her. ‘‘Something about’’—he gasped slightly—‘‘that damned letter?’’
    She gulped, steadying her thoughts. ‘‘Jared, they could know about this,’’ she tried to answer evenly. ‘‘About your mating season. Somehow they could know that it’s finally happening.’’
    ‘‘Only we know, love,’’ he murmured dangerously, climbing over her. ‘‘And I know that this need is becoming more intense with every passing hour.’’
    ‘‘Then don’t send me away!’’ She slammed both fists against the mattress, fully aware that she sounded more like a petulant child than the queen of any realm.
    He responded by mounting her, so quickly she hardly had time to anticipate the motion. In the space of a moment he had her pinned beneath his large, bare body, allowing their warm skin to slide together. ‘‘Just once,’’ he panted against her cheek, nipping at her flesh. ‘‘Before I call the meeting. Just one more time, wife—or I swear this fever will take me