Witchmate (Skeleton Key) by Renee George, Skeleton Key

warding a chill. “I swear it, Keir. I swear I’m not of this world of yours. I don’t know why I can do…magic.”
    Her body language, eye contact, and words all rang with truth, but Keir was more than ninety-years old. He’d watched the witches destroy wolfkind villages, killing indiscriminately, and doing any disgusting thing to wipe out his people. He’d watched them fry his parents with a combination of water and lightning spells. Was Emma lying to him? He didn’t think so. Did believing Emma make him a fool? Probably. Would his people forgive him for mating with a witch? Definitely not. Was this strange and unusual beauty worth the battle? His heart thought so.
    He stood up, stooping so his head wouldn’t hit the ceiling, and he wrapped Emma in his arms. “We’ll figure this out.”
    “Promise?”
    “Yes,” he said, his fingers soothingly stroking her back. He leaned to her ear and whispered fiercely, “Even if it means leaving my people.”
    “No,” Emma said. “You can’t. I can’t be the reason you part ways with your family. The people you care about. Who care about you. I won’t let you.”
    “This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault, Emma. It’s the world we live in. We are at war, and it doesn’t stop for anything.” Not even love. “I have lived my life fearless. Every day, from the death of my parents on, I’ve known that every morning I wake up might be my last. But the moment I touched you, I was afraid for the first time.” When he saw the stricken look in her eyes, he shook his head. “Again, not your fault. You are important to me. Too important to lose. I would give my life for you. I have been a steel rod of strength and power for my people, but I would bend if it meant saving you.” He tipped her head back and kissed her soft, bow lips. “You will be my family. My home.”
    “You are the leader of your people, Keir. More important than I am.”
    He yanked her against him, anguished by the soft push of her breasts against his stomach, her hot breath on his chest. “Nothing is more important than you are,” he said fiercely. “Nothing.”
    Emma’s hands wrapped around him, her fingers exploring his back. She looked up at him, meeting his gaze with an expression that made his heart skip a beat.
    “Tell me again, Keir.” Her lips softened. “Tell me what you want from me.”
    He stared down into her dark blue eyes, unable and unwilling to turn from her—to deny her. “I want to bathe in your scent.” He buried his face against the crux of her neck, inhaling the earthy scent of her desire. “I want to caress your skin.” He pulled her shirt over her head and slid her leggings down her thighs. Her panties were black lace with barely any material. A lusty growl rose from his chest.
    “Yes,” she said, her breath becoming a pant.
    Keir yanked her to his chest. “I want to feel your nakedness pressed against my flesh.” He lifted her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding herself against his straining erection, the witchvine around her waist scratching at his skin. He ignored it. He nibbled her neck and her jawline.
    She kissed his ear, pulling the lobe between her teeth, and Keir moaned, as he resisted the urge to throw her down and take her hard and without mercy. His voice became low and hoarse. “I want to kiss your mouth.” He tugged her lower lip between his teeth as he lay her down on the blankets and covered her with his body. She was so small compared to him, he imagined he shielded her from the moon.
    He thrust his tongue into her mouth, savoring the delicious taste of her, before trailing kisses down her collar bone. He lifted his head, and his gaze drifted to her breasts. “I want to tease your nipples.” He darted his tongue over the rigid bud as he cupped the ample mound, squeezing slightly as he licked and sucked until she squirmed beneath him.
    “Please, Keir,” she pleaded, her lower body writhing against his