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“I’m not wet. I’m soaked,” she admitted without shame. Then she groaned and muttered, “And I demand more, Halo. Face it, you kind of owe me.”

His lips twitched. Different impulses surged, demanding he take what he’d been denied for so long now, now, now. The pleasure and the release. The relief. But he forced himself to go slow. “I will make you feel good.”

“Yes. Make me feel good. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Halo grazed her tuft of curls, and a mewl escaped her. “Like this?” His body jerked when she rolled her hips to send his fingers lower.

“Just like this.”

Soaking wet, as advertised. New impulses overshadowed the others. Cage her. Never let go. Bend her over. Or flip her to her back. Feast. Pin her down. Pound inside her again and again and again.

“When I remove Erebus’s mark from you,” he growled against her skin, “I might add my own.”

“Wait. What?” She went still. “I have a brand?”

“Yes and no.” Halo licked her racing pulse and—nothing.

She had spun to face him, pulling from his embrace. Those light green irises spit fire at him. “Remove the brand-not-a-brand, Halo. Now.”

He barely stopped himself from snatching her back. “I will but not today. I believe its removal will be complicated, requiring immense amounts of power.” Let himself be drained mere days before the next test? Was that Erebus’s hope?

Hands balled, she lunged to beat at Halo’s shoulders. “Why even bother examining me, then?”

“I can neutralize the link with trinite.” He fit his hands on her hips, thinking to set her away for good. To end their interaction. Too late. Now that he held her, he couldn’t bring himself to release her a second time. “In a few minutes, Silver will provide you with a necklace.” A more palatable descriptor than “collar.” “The simple act of wearing it should prevent Erebus from flashing you. Until then...”

Halo walked forward, forcing the harpy to walk backward. As he pressed her against a wall, he flattened a palm near her temple. Bending down, he put himself at eye level with her.

“Shall I continue with the inspection now?” With his free hand, he lightly pinched her chin and tilted her face up to his. “I believe you commanded me to give you more.”

To his delight, the temptress melted against him, winding her arms around his neck. “Will you be kissing me this time?”

She craves my kiss? His gaze dropped to her lips. Plump and red. Parted. A slight dip in the center of the bottom filled his head with ideas. Will lick her right there.

“Oh yes. I will be kissing you this time, harpy. I will be doing everything.”

“Everything? I—No. Wait,” she said, shaking her head. “We can’t have sex, even if I beg you for it. And just to be clear, sex means putting your penis inside my vagina. Okay?”

The thought of this female begging him for anything, especially pleasure... Yes! Halo needed her to do it. He wasn’t sure he’d ever needed anything more. But he drew on centuries of discipline and said, “Very well. No penetration.”

“Can I trust you to keep your word?” She toyed with the ends of his hair, flushed and pliant, but somehow also unbending.

“Always. I never lie.” The language of weak-willed cowards. More than that, a single untruth enslaved your will to another’s opinion, no matter the reason for it. He applied pressure to her chin, keeping her gaze steady on his. “Here’s a second vow for you. One day soon, I will have you.”

“I make no promises.” Need darkened her features. “Now kiss me, Halo. Kiss me quick before I change my mind.”

Yes. He swooped down and slanted his mouth over hers. Eager, she opened for him. Their tongues thrust together, the sweetness of her taste registering, and his eyes flared wide. Then his lids slid closed, too heavy to hold open. He lost himself in the moment.

He feasted on the female, a starving man who’d somehow stumbled upon a banquet. An animal reduced to raw need.

The strain inside him both eased and worsened, gears stopping, starting, and squeaking. But he hardly noticed. For so long, he’d known only toil. The harpy was introducing him to sensation after sensation, each a shock—and necessary. And he’d thought he couldn’t get enough. Fool! He’d merely glimpsed the possibilities before. Now...

A long-buried spark of something revived. Something the Order must have failed to extinguish. Whatever it was, it triggered other emotions, fueling unquenchable flames.

Halo throbbed for relief. The slightest bit. He shoved one hand in Ophelia’s hair, tangling his fingers in the silken strands. He returned the other hand to her breast, plumping the generous mound. A groan escaped. He hadn’t won any relief, but he couldn’t regret the action. Nothing had ever felt this good.

“Halo,” she cried in between kisses, a sharp pang of arousal nearly gutting him.


Tags: Gena Showalter Rise of the Warlords Fantasy