Marked 2: Marked for Desire by Jennifer Leeland

Mate or Etiquette for the Woman Who’s Been Mate-Marked as a Cosmic Joke . It would be a fucking best seller.
    “I had no idea I would mark you.”
    She knew that. Hell, she sensed his shock. Still, it didn’t change the facts. She was mated to the son of a bitch. “Why? Why did you do it?”
    He ran a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t…it wasn’t like that. A Nyral dominant only seeks his perfect submissive.” His eyes darkened to an indigo blue. “You were perfect for me. It was like a magnet, and I couldn’t resist the pull.”
    “You should have tried.”
    “I did.” His gaze met hers.
    “Are you saying this is my fault?” Her fists curled, and she forced them to relax. She was acutely aware of his tension. His neck muscles were corded, and his eyes narrowed. The air was thick between them. She glared at him. “How typically male.”
    A reddish glint made his eyes glow. “I’m saying that you were a fit for me, a perfect fit. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t resist you.” Heat blasted from his body. “Any more than you could resist me.”
    Well, shit, he had a point there. “I could have. I didn’t know you were going to mark me. I thought we were just going to fuck, Dom Boy. Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.” She brushed her hair off her shoulders. “That’s all I was looking for.”
    An inhuman growl rumbled in his throat. He swallowed and exhaled a long breath. “Unfortunately, I did mark you. There are things you need to know.”
    “Like?”
    His gaze narrowed. “Like don’t touch another man. Even if I’m not there. We’re mate-marked. I’ll know.”
    “Great,” she snipped. “Is this a two-way street? Or are you allowed to fuck anything you want?”
    His nostrils flared. “You would also know if I touched another woman, though you are not subject to the rage.”
    “Right. So no more fun. Anything else?” She pretended she didn’t care, that this didn’t ache, didn’t rip her into shreds. The man had accidentally marked her. It wasn’t like he gave a shit about her. But they were stuck with each other.
    “Don’t defy me in front of other males, particularly another dominant.”
    “Fuck you,” she snapped. “I’ll defy you all I want. I’m no perfect submissive.” She wasn’t going to roll over and play dead for this asshole. No matter how much she wanted to fuck him or belong to him.
    His lips tightened, and a muscle moved in his jaw. Suddenly his hand shot out and grabbed her arm, holding it up. “That,” he ground out, the fingers of his other hand stroking the dragon embedded there from head to tail. “That mark says you are. If you defy me in front of others, I’ll have to assert my dominance, and every time I do, it will bind us tighter. Don’t do it.”
    God, she wanted to melt, dissolve right there. Just the tight edge of his voice, the squeeze of his fingers around her arm, the firm slide of his touch over the mark sent her reeling into an ocean of need. She licked her lips.
    “Don’t do that.” His voice was hoarse, and the lines around his mouth indicated strain. “I’m barely holding on to my self-control as it is.”
    “There has to be a way to undo it.”
    He released her arm and shook his head. “None.”
    She rubbed her wrist and ignored the erotic throb of the mark. “You weren’t supposed to be able to mark another woman. You don’t know everything.”
    He took her hand in his gently, a contrast to his earlier clasp on her arm. “Our council may know. Their records go back centuries.”
    “There has to be a way.” She clenched her fists, and her nail bit into her palms. “You don’t understand. A dom? In my life? It’s laughable.”
    Okay, so that might not have been the best way to put it, but he didn’t have to look like she’d slapped him. The flash of pain in his face made her heart clench. “Well, it is. I’m the last of the Placido line and—”
    “You don’t have to say any more, Princess.” He stood, his