She gasped as strong arms caught her about the waist and held her tight to a rock-hard chest. Against the curve of her buttocks she felt his arousal, a hot and substantial presence that burned through her sweats to her skin. Her brain stopped working, unable to process the fact that he might want her, too.
“I’ll do more than say it, Hot Stuff,” he rumbled in her ear.
Then he spun her to face him and took her mouth with breath-stealing hunger, before lowering her down onto golden sand…
Chapter 2
As sunlight flooded his vision, Aidan blinked and stared down at the woman in his arms. His heart stopped, every cell in his body arrested by the flowing golden tresses that tumbled across the sand.
“What…?” She gasped, lovely dark eyes widened in surprise as she looked around. “Where are we?”
A soft tropical breeze ruffled his hair, and reggae played in the background, but his eyes never left her face. She was confused, her short nails digging into the skin of his forearms, and he couldn’t form one coherent word to reassure her.
Lyssa Bates was stunningly beautiful, her features both patrician and sensual. Her mouth full and red, kissable. Her eyes tip-tilted seductively, revealing both intelligence and innocence. Why had she pictured herself as worn and tired-looking?
Because that’s the way she felt.
“Oh my god,” she breathed, her fingertips touching his face reverently. “You’re gorgeous.”
And then they were plunged into darkness. The music fell silent and the fragrant sea breeze disappeared, leaving only the two of them intertwined, their hearts racing next to each other.
“What happened?” she cried plaintively.
Aidan was immobilized in shock. He had desired her scent, the feel of her body, the blunt way she spoke…Regardless of her facial appearance, he’d wanted to take her beneath him and fuck her senseless. Sex as a distraction had always worked for him, and from her response to his embrace, he’d known it would work for her, too.
Then he saw her. And now he wanted something more.
“You got scared,” he managed hoarsely. “Lost the dream.”
As he struggled with the implications, she resumed caressing his face, learning his features by touch as a sculptor would. He had no idea what she’d seen in the light. Her dream would make him into whatever she desired most. For the first time he resented that, wishing the effect he had on her was genuine and the face she admired so much was his own.
“Aidan?” Her sweet voice was low, tentative. Lonely.
Just as he was.
He rolled, pulling her over him, his arms dropping to the ground. His head fell back and his eyes closed, the weight of his dilemma crushing his chest, making it hard to breathe. An eternity of seducing had given him enough insight to be certain—something fragile had taken root in the brief moment their eyes had met.
It needed to be crushed, and Lyssa forgotten.
“Yes?” His voice was gruff, and he felt the confusion it caused ripple through her. He should let her go, move her off him.
But he couldn’t do it.
Then she lowered her mouth to his, her softly fragrant hair surrounding him, encasing them together, until all he was cognizant of was her and how much he wanted her. Her lips touched his, a brief kiss, a gentle pressing. He groaned in painful awareness. Emboldened, her tongue flicked out, wetting his bottom lip before she sucked on it with a rhythmic pull that made his cock swell and ache. Lyssa set her hands on either side of his head, lifting slightly to brush her breasts back and forth across his chest.
Aidan Cross, Elite Warrior and immortal seducer, was being consummately seduced for the first time in his endless memory. And Lyssa Bates was very, very good at it.
He’d wanted to distract her and get laid. Now, mating with Lyssa had become a dangerous tangle. His brain was not analyzing step by step the best way to excite her so he could hurry up and thrust his cock into her. His brain was barely functioning at all, other than registering panic at the depth of his craving. He wanted to hold her close, take his time, arouse her to madness with his mouth and hands before sliding into her and letting her come. Over and over again.
Not to forget himself. But to find himself. To remember what it felt like when he still had hope, to remember when he hadn’t been afraid to care about someone.
Opening his mouth to speak, he was instead plundered by her kiss, her tongue sweeping inside, stroking along his, making him shudder. She moved, her thighs straddling his hips, her cunt to his cock, her lithe body gliding sinuously along his in a full-body caress. His chest rose and fell so rapidly, he felt dizzy. Sweating, he reached to push her away, but his muscles refused to comply.