Bound Guardian Angel by Donya Lynne Page B

life,” Trace said quietly, his lips moving against
Micah’s.
    Micah grinned, and the tiny lines around his
eyes creased, but he didn’t pull back. “That’s good, slave.” He
inched backward. “And one more thing.”
    Trace’s gaze locked drunkenly to Micah’s as
if he were hypnotized, ready to hang on every word Micah uttered.
“Yes, Master?”
    “You will let me in, Trace. You will
open your mind to me.” He cupped his hand around the back of
Trace’s head, swiped his palm over his cranium and back down, where
he secured his hold against the back of his skull. “I can be so
much more effective if you open your mind to me.”
    Trace blinked, swallowed, and then let his
gaze drop away.
    Micah abruptly leaned forward and pulled
Trace’s head to his so their mouths crashed together. Micah growled
as he closed his lips over Trace’s in a bruising, possessive
caress. All Trace could do was relinquish and let it happen.
    This wasn’t a kiss of passion, nor one of
lust. This was a seal of ownership. One that declared Micah as the
keeper of Trace’s body and soul from here until forever. A promise
Trace readily acquiesced to as he opened his lips and gave himself
over to the power exchange. He was eager to begin this journey with
his new master.
    Micah released him and pulled away. “Am I
understood, Trace? Do you understand the importance of opening your
mind to me?”
    “Yes, Master.” Trace didn’t know how or
when, but he knew he would eventually have to knock down the
barrier around his thoughts to let Micah see his secrets. Micah was
a tenacious fucker. Now that Trace had agreed to let him in, Micah
would needle, paw, and—eventually—demand Trace to open his
mind.
    Just as long as Micah was ready to see
everything.
    The good, the bad . . . and
the regretfully ugly.

 
    Chapter 5
    I can suck his ass? Really?
    Cordray picked up Micah’s words from the
guard’s thoughts as easily as if that SOB were standing right in
front of her.
    Rainwater still dripped from her hair and
clothes, the taste of blood still filled her mouth, her vision
wasn’t quite back to normal, and from what she could tell, her lip
had swelled up like a marshmallow. Even so, what Skeletor had done
to her was the least of her worries. Micah had taken Trace without
her permission, which shot him to the top of her shit list.
    Granted, from the images she’d picked up
from the guard’s mind, Trace had been one pint shy of overflowing,
and the terror streaming off the guard was enough for her to know
shit had been critical. Micah busting Trace out had been the right
call, especially since she’d been almost an hour late.
    Would she ever admit that out loud? Hell no.
But she knew if Micah had waited for her to arrive, Trace might not
have survived.
    The idea that Trace could have died tonight
didn’t sit well with her. In fact, it chilled her marrow and struck
fear into her heart, which only added to her irritation. When had
Trace become so important to her?
    Okay fine, she’d been drawn to Trace the
moment she first saw him two weeks ago, but that didn’t mean she
cared about him. She was drawn to lots of people. Didn’t mean she
would cry if they died. So then why did the thought of Trace’s
demise hit her emotions so hard?
    That first day she’d seen him—when she’d
found him so magnetically intriguing—he had touched her. He’d
grabbed her arm. No biggie for someone else. But for her? Him
touching her had been anything but ordinary. Monumental was more
like it. Because when he touched her, he lit her world on fire. In
an instant, with his hand wrapped around her forearm, life as she’d
known it for eight hundred years ceased to exist. Trace could make
her feel. Hot, cold, pain . . . aroused . Name
the physical sensation, and as long as Trace was near, she felt it.
But only with Trace. The rest of the time, she felt nothing at all.
No pain. No pleasure. Just emptiness.
    “Shit,” she muttered under her breath as