Author's Note: The following chapter is sexually explicit. This is a warning to sensitive readers or minors.

Butterflies exploded in her stomach, stirring up desire, excitement, fondness, and fear. The staccato of her heart vibrated in her chest as she fought for breath, for calm. This turmoil hadn't left her as she showered, in fact, the closer she came to seeing Anzar, the more intense the sensations.

Molly approached his cabin, the door swishing open escalated the emotions pounding her sensitive nerves. With his hair damp, a barefooted Anzar stood facing the window, still and patient. He seemed so in control.

"This is wonderful, Molly," he said. "As much as I despise what I know of the Vargosh, I am grateful to them. Twenty-one females are a blessing no one could have anticipated."

"Yes," she said, unable to think of anything else to say. She stepped fully into his room, and the door swished closed with finality. He faced her, then his long strides closed the distance between them.

"Will you claim me now, Molly?" he asked, as he crushed her against him. The heat of him overwhelmed her, as did his scent. He managed to smell so good, like burned aromatic wood.

"I didn't mean to force you into this, Anzar. You can still choose another female, I'll understand," Molly said, her voice softer than she had intended with the burn of embarrassment on her cheeks. The thought of Anzar leaving her to claim someone else speared through her, hurting more than loneliness ever had.

"I do not understand why you cannot accept me as your mate. Am I not honorable? Not worthy?" His black gaze was too piercing despite the pain that flittered across his features.

"No," she said with a little too much passion. "You're perfect. I just..." She drew in a shuddering breath, willing her heart to calm itself. "I watched my father wither away, loving my mother who hated him enough to abandon her children. I'd never force anyone into such a relationship."

"I am neither your father nor your mother, temaar," Anzar said, bending to scoop her into his arms. He carried her to the bed and lay her upon it.

"You're not heartbroken you're stuck with me?" she asked, peering at him as he grasped her foot to tug off her shoe. His touch was gentle, and the gesture sweet. He lowered her foot to the bed before lifting the other.

"I am Elkarran, our hearts do not break," he said as he circled her bed to sprawl alongside her. His words brought forth a small chuckle from her, and she suspected she was borderline hysterical. "I would mourn you should you leave me, Molly."

"Ah, I understand now. We're friends and attracted to each other, so why not mate?" Molly said, grabbing onto his upper arms with her fingers. "But I need more than that, Anzar. You can't just mate me because of our friendship."

"Molly, temaar, I do not think you understand," he said, shifting closer to her.

"I do, I see it clearly now." She raised her hand to cup his jaw, not caring that tears streamed down her cheeks because of what she had to do. "You are conflicted by our friendship. I'm happy to have met you, Anzar, but me traveling to Soran's village is for the best, don't you see? You'll mate one of the five females; the one you're meant to be with."

"You are not leaving me, female. You will not mate another male. I forbid it," he said, an arm wrapping around her as if to prevent her departure.

"You're being silly," she said, but her breath hitched when he released her as if he was granting her freedom. But he wiped the tears from her cheeks, instead. His touch was soft, as gentle as when they had first met, as when he had descended into the soil with her.

"Silly? I've wanted you from the moment you stood there, injured and yet you still challenged me. I wanted you when you clung to me and let me carry you to the village, your trust was breath-taking. I wanted you when you climbed up Mother. It infuriated me that I could not claim you then, but I could be patient." He brushed her hair from her face, his breathing ragged. "I remember when you first smiled at me, when your strange garment gaped, when you stripped before me to bathe. I want your kisses, your French ones too. I long to taste every inch of you and bury myself deep inside you.

"I wanted you when you showered, when you brushed my hair, saw to my needs. I wanted to claim you when you swirled your delicious backside, when you moaned my name as you found paradise. Seeing you laughing with Soran kills me. You are my mate, Molly, the female for me."

She gaped in disbelief, not certain she had heard him correctly. "Anzar, how did you know I moaned your name?" Scorching heat splashed across her cheeks and traveled down her throat. "MARC," she roared, lifting her face to glare at the ceiling.

"The Chieftain was concerned for your safety. How was I to know you'd play with yourself?" MARC's voice remained calm. She was ready to throttle his memory banks!

"Do not be angry with MARC, temaar. Hearing my name on your lips gave me hope."

At his words, she lowered her gaze to meet his. Hope for what?

"It was an invasion of my privacy," Molly said unable to look away from his intense eyes.

"I apologize. That was not my intention. I needed to watch you sleep as I did in the village." At his revelation, more heat burst across her face, and she moaned, burying her mortification in her cupped hands. He peeled them away to peer at her through her splayed fingers. "Molly, please, listen to me. Can you not see that you smile at me, temaar, and share your joy with me? From the moment we met, you chose to trust me, Molly. You were always meant to be mine."

"Anzar, are you saying you want me?" she asked for he had the right of it. She had trusted him from the start, and shown him a side of her no man ever saw.

"I'm saying that I love you, Molly. You are more precious to me than the air I breathe."

Her breath escaped on a sob. She blinked, her mind struggling to process his words. He loved her? Molly Lambert? And she loved him too! Had wished she could tell him as she bled to death. Had wanted to tell him when he had whispered his intention to never forsake her. Had flung himself down the hole to stay with her.

How could she not fall in love with such a male? All her stress was self-inflicted. Her doubts, her fears, concerns, all self-inflicted. There in his black eyes was his heart, for her to see, to notice, to accept and to cherish.

She drew in a shuddering breath and rose onto her knees to kiss him on his lips. She cupped his cheeks to hold him still then slipped her tongue into his mouth. A groan tore from him, and his arms wrapped around her back then tightened. She held her mouth against his and claimed him with the exploration of her tongue. He shivered under her onslaught as his breath caught in the back of his throat.

"I love you too, Anzar," Molly said the moment she pulled a little away to draw in a ragged breath.

"Temaar." Rumbling, he claimed her mouth for a kiss of his own.

He pushed her until she fell onto her back, his lips not leaving hers. She moaned, succumbing to his barrage. She loved it when he went alpha on her. Her fingers fluttered from his cheeks to his shoulders to cling to him, marveling at the heat of him through his tunic.

"You please me, Molly. Can you not feel how much, temaar?"

He twirled his hips, and the sheer hard length of him pressed into her at the juncture of her thighs. Her breath hitched, and as he continued to caress her in such a manner, she arched her back on a throaty moan. He brushed his lips across hers, the softness of his beard tickling her chin.

"Seeing you in my tunic—"

"And seeing me out of your tunic?" she teased, leaning back to smile at him. He rumbled, and she brushed her lips across his. "You're rumbling."

"It happens every time you shake my control or arouse me, temaar." He slid his hands up the backs of her thighs to grab her ass cheeks. Groaning, he pressed his mouth to hers. "You are so soft. French kiss me again," he demanded.

She chuckled and complied, chasing his tongue around his mouth until he pushed back. Her breath caught on a trapped moan. He rumbled again, his hands kneading her backside.

"Your taste is better than I dreamed."

"You've known me for six days, Anzar. How long have you been dreaming?"

She tugged off his tunic, tossing it aside. Her fingers fluttered over his chest before twirling around his nipples. He gasped, his fingers flexing, but he didn't release her backside. She shoved his chest, and he leaned back, curiosity crossing his features. She smiled before she latched her mouth over a taut nipple.

Anzar's reaction was instant, his moan guttural. "You torment me, temaar."

He crushed her to him with an arm looping her waist and this time, he thrust his tongue into her mouth. She dueled with him until the throbbing in her belly intensified. He pushed her away, tugging off her shirt and tearing her tights off. Only to brush his fingers over the curls between her legs. Anticipation stilled her breathing and heartbeat and she raised her hips to meet his touch.

He slid a finger in and moaned again. "So soft, so wet. I want you, Molly. I need you."

Flipping her onto her back, he stared at her exposed sex before brushing his lips across her belly. He tugged on her bra until her breasts bounced free. He paused, then rumbling, he nuzzled her breast before sucking a nipple into his mouth, just as she had done. His hand slid down to grip her backside again, keeping her twitching hips still as he lathered one nipple.

"Teach me how to please you, temaar."

"Touch and kiss me everywhere, Anzar," she said, fighting the blush that heated her cheeks. "Then..." She parted her legs, exposing her sex to him. She took his finger and tugged it down, rubbing it back and forth over her nub. "Rub me there." She struggled to say those three words. His calloused fingers felt so good.

He shifted down and buried his nose in her curls, inhaling her scent. He rumbled as he stroked a fingertip over her nub. His gaze met hers as if to judge her reaction. But when he continued to touch and tease her, she couldn't stop her eyes from fluttering closed. She moaned, thrusting upward, seeking his nimble fingers.

"When you think I'm ready, you bury yourself here." She slid a hand to her channel. His fingers followed suit and slid into her. A moan tore from her, and she shivered under the double onslaught.

"You're so tight. Too small for me?" Concern threaded through his voice.

"I stretch."

"What's this?" He rubbed his finger back and forth, and she arched off the bed with a cry, pleasure rippling through her.

"G-spot," she whispered. "When you're in me, the head of your manhood will rub against it."

"In you?" he growled and bounded to his feet, tearing off his chemchies and kemtoch, tossing them haphazardly.

She laughed at his eagerness. "Where's your chieftain's control?" she teased, and he stood there staring at her, rumbling again.

"I love it when you share your laughter with me," he said and dropped to his knees, spreading her legs by sliding his hands from her knees to her inner thighs.

He shifted to position his erection at her entrance, his fingers flexing where they gripped her hips. His body shuddered as he dipped the head of his cock into her heat. Her hands flew out to fist the linen. He was tormenting her by dipping in and out, burying himself slowly. And when she said tormenting, she shivered, moaned, and writhed, her womb spasming as if begging him to plunge in and satiate her. Everything throbbed since he hadn't brought her to release yet. She ached, yearned, her hips rising and pleading with him.

"Molly...temaar...please, I need you to cease." Her eyes flew to his with concern. He trembled with the effort to control his entry. "I'm almost inside you, but you feel..." He groaned and closed his eyes, arching his back as his teeth indented his bottom lip. A glorious expression of pain and pleasure twisted his features, and his chest vibrated on a deep rumble. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and he slipped in the final bit, tearing a hoarse moan from him. "So good." He withdrew, slow and gentle and entered her with the same dedication, his gaze fixed on hers. She panted, scraping her fingernails over his chest.

"Please, Anzar. I need faster, harder," she begged.

He complied, and she arched off the bed, crying out as the crescendo rushed toward her. Hot damn, two thrusts, and she was ready to come all over him. Tingles began at the nape of her neck and shimmered down her body, tightening her nipples, clenching her womb.

"I can't hold back," she said, and when he thrust into her hard enough to slap his balls on her inner thighs, she splintered, screaming his name.

"Temaar?" Concern strained his voice, as if he had harmed her.

Then he roared, the surprise on his face was delightful. His massive body shuddered with his hips straightening as he came. His fingers gripped her hips hard enough to leave bruises, but she didn't care. His breathing labored, and he kept himself still as if the slightest movement might end his pleasure. She rolled her hips, and his eyes flew open, his breath hitching. She chuckled, reaching up to cup his cheek.

"Molly, you are perfect." As he withdrew, her mouth formed an 'oh' before sliding into a pout. She missed the feel of him inside her. He gathered her into his arms, brushing his fingers over her cheek to bury in her hair. "At last, you are mine."