She shook her head no, and suddenly had an urge too strong to ignore—like an itch that wouldn't go away. Her eyes dropped down, past his belly button and the thin layer of light hair there, and she moaned at the obvious erection he had.

"As you can tell, I would not object to easing your body. I can smell your heat." His voice went low and his eyes shuttered as if in pain. "God, you smell good, like warm honey and pure woman rolled into one sexy package." He gave her a look of raw honestly and possession.

She walked up to him and slung her arms around his neck like a courtesan. He sucked in his breath as she pressed her body against his and her beast purred in response. His hard muscles touched her in all the right ways. She was only missing one thing now.

Standing on her toes and she brought her mouth a breath away from his. His eyes burned like coals at her. "You may only have me during my cycle and no time after that." His eyes darkened at the threat, but he nodded and captured her lips in a brutal kiss that curled her toes.

Tongues licked and dueled and lips meshed over and over, their breaths mingling sweetly. His hands cupped her fleshy bottom and pulled her tighter against him. She went wild. Crying out and wrapping her legs around his waist, her hips pumping to find a release that wasn't there.

He broke their kiss with and chuckled. "Relax, lumara. I've got you." He carried her up the stairs and into a bedroom. Alison couldn't stop herself from studying his room as he set her on the bed. She was shocked to be sure.

Three wooden cabinets with glass windows sat in three of the room's corners. Inside was what looked like different kinds of keepsakes. Before Alison realized what she was doing, she was off the bed and looking at one. She noted that instead of cold, hardwood floors there was a plush rug beneath her naked feet. His cabinet reminded her of her own, holding one's most precious items. His wasn't broken by a psychopath though.

The cabinet wasn't wide probably only a foot and a half, but it was taller than her. Some shelves held pictures of Rome with his two brothers and sisters smiling or looking serious. There was no doubt that they were siblings. Each of them had the same strong nose, high cheekbones, and thick hair.

The picture that caught her eye though was of a child held in his mother's arm and a smiling man with his arm wrapped around the woman's shoulder. His parents. Alison knew the Kategan parents died in a terrible car accident by a drunk driver. The incident had brought waves of grief across the lykaen community.

Alison could still remember her father shaking his head in disgust at the driver. Rome only looked about ten in the picture, so young. A gold necklace with a locket that looked like the sun sat next to the picture along with a thin band of gold with a red gem in it. It was all so beautiful and personal. She was looking into his past and there was something too intimate about knowing he kept his parent's things. Quickly, she turned to see him looking at her, a soft smile on his face.

He didn't grin at her this time, but casually accepted—and maybe wanted?—her to see his things. What surprised her more was that she did want to see things about his life.

For such a strong, virile man he had a bedroom that spoke of strong family and remembrance. It wasn't the masculine love dojo she would have expected. But then again, what did she know about him? Not enough, and too much. More family pictures lined the walls and some had a man she didn't recognize, he had short spiky hair and blue eyes that held just a bit of sadness at the corners. Seeing her interest in the picture, Rome came forward.

"That's Jackson Marsh, an old military friend of mine."

"You were in the military?"

"I did eight years. Jack and I met my second year in, we've been good friends ever since." His eyes warmed at the mention of his friend. Alison understood those feelings that close companionship brought.

"Did you meet in training or something?"

He threw his head back and laughed. "Hell no. We met with our fists first. I accidently bumped into the bastard coming around a corner. When I only nodded at him instead of apologizing, well, he didn't seem to take that too kindly. He got in my face and told me to apologize or he'd make me. I couldn't believe the bastard. I'm at least ten times stronger than him and that's not including my lykaen strength.

"But I was wrong. He surprised me. The man can move, fast, agile, and hard. He has a left hook that nearly took me off my feet. After we exchanged some blows we shook it off, grinned, and went and got a beer. We've been close ever since."

Men.

Alison found herself smiling as she skimmed over the rest of the pictures on his wall. More of him and Jack, some showed them in camouflage and sunglasses, their teeth white against their tanned faces; the others which made her temperature rise a few notches, showed them with their shirts off abs hard and curled as they rested on their elbows. They each had the same tattoo echoing each other's biceps.

There was so much more to this man than she knew. But why did it bother her that she didn't know every single detail of his life. She only wanted to have him sate her lust for the next couple of days, not marry him. Her heart lurched in her chest at the idea. Closing her steel walls around the treacherous organ, she wandered to the rest of the room where brown, knee-high statues of skinny men and curvy women lined the wall. They looked real, like something a native made in a faraway country.

She never heard him move, but suddenly his arms wrapped around her, hugging her to his body. He was so warm. It would be so easy to relax against his strength and let him take over.

"What's wrong?" he asked against her hair.

She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. "Nothing. I was just having some stomach pain from my breeding cycle. Could you, could you help me now?" His body stilled behind hers, whether it was from her rushed lie, or her words, she didn't know. Yet she desperately wanted to know.

She told herself she wasn't disappointed that he didn't catch her lie. "Well, I can help you with that. Come here." The dark lilt of his voice produced an answering heat in her sex. Her teeth gnawed on her lip as he pushed her back on the bed. "Get up there." He didn't so much say the words as command them. She crawled backwards on his large bed until her head hit the pillows.

She became all too aware in that moment that she was wearing nothing but a red, flimsy nightgown, and he was looking at her like starving man. His eyes were hard with hunger as they took in every inch of her body from the bare, pale legs, to the dip of her waist and the high curve of her breasts. Her eyes traveled down his bare chest to the ridiculous pajama pants. She gasped at the obvious erection trying to push its way out.

She squirmed when he didn't say anything, only looked at her, seeming to see more than just her body. He moved to the end of the bed. "Pull up your nightgown. I want to see your pussy."

Fingers trembling, she pulled the liquid satin up until it piled around her hips. His grey eyes darkened like an incoming storm. "Spread your legs, bring up your knees." His voice was like sandpaper.

She spread her legs one at a time, then bent them and bared her naked sex to his devouring gaze. Her blood raced like molten fire through her body, throbbing and pulsing in need. She didn't miss the high flush that stained his cheeks or the twitch underneath his pajama pants. He swallowed hard and climbed up on the bed like a sleek predator, a dark, ravenous angel.