Asmodeus(65)

Just as she focused in on the intense heat of his eyes as he turned to her, the light in the room dimmed. Candles suddenly appeared across her dresser, end tables and desk, casting an ancient yellow glow throughout the room.



She brought her gaze back to his. "Plan on lighting the place on fire?"



The light in his eyes intensified. "Only you."



Wanton abandon threatened to take over her timid actions when he uttered that corny line. What would it be like to give in to every desire she secretly held? Having decided she was going to the Abyss, there would be no strings, no attachment. Just sex.



She recalled Asmodeus's words.



Good company, great food and lots of sex.



They'd covered the first two.



There would be nothing to hold her back. No promises of tomorrow. Plans and relationship snags wouldn't exist for the two of them.



She slowly walked toward him as he pushed from the bed and stood to face her. He was by far the sexiest man she had ever laid eyes on. Hands down. His long blond hair made him look medieval, the light stubble covering the lower half of his face made him look devilish.



And the air that surrounded them…it was alive with energy. She could actually feel it.



She paused mid-stride. Like him, she would take something with her to the fires. An aching. A longing, though not of vengeance.



The fires. That's all she could think about lately. Glancing around the room at the tiny flickers of flame dancing on the candles, she couldn't imagine the horrors she would soon be facing. Terror ripped away her arousal, piece by piece, threatening to consume her. Fear gnawed at her until her chest constricted.



Burning. Fires.



She felt as though she was falling into a deep, dark chasm, and no one would be there to hear her screams for mercy. For help.



Then Asmodeus was standing before her, wrenching her away from the darkness, as his hands cupped her face. Thoughts of his anguish and suffering, spanning centuries, nearly brought her to her knees. She needed to feel his arms around her, needed to feel the false security he would provide. But more than that, she wanted to erase his horrendous memories for the time being, much more than she wanted to carry his touch with her.



She wanted to show him love and acceptance. Foreign feelings for him—even if it would only be a fleeting escape from what they would soon face.



As he dipped his head, bringing his lips to hers, she stomped down the fear that lodged in her chest. He was not a mortal man. He was an ancient, immortal demon. When she focused on that truth, it was more than daunting. But as her tongue found his, and his warmth mixed with hers, he was only Asmodeus, a man she had come to respect. A man who was constantly in her thoughts.

No longer would she question the whys of her feelings. The why didn't matter. He was here. He was holding her.



And he wanted her.



Wrapping her arms around him, she drew him closer, melting into his body. He was solid muscle and harnessed power, and she clung to it. Desperately trying to push the terror threatening to sweep her away, she suppressed a shudder.



He pulled back. "Brianna, what is it? What are you not telling me?"



She looked into his eyes, dark and illuminated, and forced herself to keep his gaze. "Why do you ask that now?"



He ran the pad of his thumb across her face. "You are crying."



She brought a hand to her face and felt the tears she hadn't known were falling. "I'm sorry."



He tenderly brushed hair from her face. "Don't apologize. Why are you crying?"



She shook her head, not wanting to focus on the bad. She wanted to lose herself in his touch. "Can we forget? For a short while can we just forget?"



She could tell he was trying to read her again. His eyes bore into hers, forcing her to look away. Was he worried about her? Or was he merely curious to know what she was keeping from him?



He let the subject go and took her hand, a smirk picking up the corner of his mouth.



"Where are you taking me?" she asked as he led her out of the bedroom.



"The first place I remember seeing you. Everything before the shower was fuzzy, but I recall you looking at me in the shower. You intrigued me."



Her cheeks grew warm at the memory.



He turned the water on. "Besides, I can smell that dumb bastard's scent on you. I want it off."



Pleased with the possessive streak, she suddenly realized the base of her desires. She wanted him. And she wanted him to want her. Period.



By the look he gave her when he faced her again, she had her answer. He forgot to keep a rein on his physical appearance. He looked feral…magical. His eyes had gone black, his aura had melted into light, mixing with the turbulent air around them.