Those pale blue eyes mesmerized him. Undid him. He craved everything she had to give, all at once. Lived only to touch this woman and be touched by her. To possess her, body and soul. And be possessed?
Words spilled from him, unfiltered. “Give yourself to me, Lyla.” He wasn’t sure anything mattered more. “Every inch. Hold nothing back.”
“Mmm. Every inch, huh?” she echoed with a sexy chuckle. “That’s my line to you. And I’m betting there are alotof inches.” She toyed with the ends of his hair, and he leaned into the contact. “If I do, what will you do with me?”
“Whatever I want. Everything. Only what you desire. Whichever answer you prefer.”
“That’s an impressive list.” Dazed, she rasped, “I say yes to each. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. So kiss me, Astra, and make it count.”
Kiss! Yes! Heart hammering, Roux swooped down. To his delight, Blythe rose to her tiptoes, eagerly meeting him halfway. Their lips pressed together, and she opened for him, allowing his tongue to thrust against hers. No, there was no allowing, no passively accepting his ministrations. The breathtaking woman greeted him with a thrust of her own and clutched him closer.
The pleasure of his first kiss! The sensations. The connection, deeper than ever before. Hands wandered. Bodies ground together. Heat left him fevered, wafting from an inferno that sparked in the marrow of his bones. Had anything ever tasted sweeter? Or more intoxicating? She was a potent wine enchanted with desire itself, and he only wanted more.
He kissed and kissed and kissed her, savoring at first. Growing more and more frenzied—and more and more mad.
How could he ever live without this now?
A new burst of lightning flashed overhead, quickly followed by another. And another. Thunder boomed, shaking even the ground. Through it all, the siren’s song filled his ears.
The rest of the world vanished from his awareness, the desperate tasting speeding into a wild devouring. Never, in the whole of his life, had he drowned in anything other than physical pain or mental screams. Until now. Until her. Roux drowned in Blythe, and he had no urge to recover.
Icy raindrops fell, sizzling against his blistering skin. Blythe gasped, and the kiss paused. They fought for air, but they didn’t spring apart. Separate him from this female? No. Not even when the heavens split and hammered the land with hail. He pressed his brow against hers, and she let him.
The most sublime sigh escaped her. “What are we doing?”
“Everything I’ve dreamed.”
“Are you ready to stop?” she asked, soft against him.
“Not until you scream my name.”
“Do it. I dare you. Make me scream and scream and scream and—”
He swooped in, silencing her with another kiss. They ate at each other. Clutched and kneaded. Rubbed. But all too soon, wandering hands and grinding bodies weren’t enough. He required her surrender. Total and complete. In bed. Naked. She would be eager for him and him alone.
Roux lifted his head, ending the kiss, only to lick the seam of her lips. Between harsh breaths, he bit out, “I want more than your body. I want your thoughts. Give them to me.”
“Can’t think...” She stabbed her fingers through his hair, and nipped his chin. “Want to scream. You said I’d scream.” Diving in for another kiss, she jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Hardness met softness, and his madness sharpened. “Give me what you promised.”
A harsh groan barreled from him. The new alignment amplified every sensation rampaging through him—and added others!
Drunken catcalls and lewd suggestions hit his ears. He wrenched up his head and snarled at the offenders. Only then did he remember the celebration taking place around them. Despite the storm, the fizzling out of the bonfires, and the inundation of rain puddles, immortals loomed in every direction, watching him and the harphantom. Some grinned while teetering on unsteady legs, spilling their drinks. Some glared while doing the same. Those who remained stone-cold sober—the welcome party—exhibited smug satisfaction.
That smug satisfaction should bother him. And it would. Tomorrow. As for tonight...
Roux flashed Blythe to their private chamber, appearing beside the bed. The siren’s song drifted through the windows, growing more and more muted as the rainfall intensified.
He gripped the object of his fascination by the waist and tossed her to the mattress, exactly as he’d imagined doing a thousand times. Before she ceased bouncing, he lunged over her, putting his mouth just over hers. Hovering. With one hand, he braced his weight. With the other, he plucked at the button holding her vest together. She watched him, her pupils expanding.
The sides of the garment parted, revealing the plush mounds he’d beheld in his every waking fantasy. “Let me touch.”
“Yes.” She arched her back, presenting herself to him. “Do it.”
Trembling, he reached out slowly, so slowly, and tentatively cupped one of her breasts. He groaned. Gently kneaded. The utter softness.Nothing better than this.
Gasping, she flattened her hand over his. The sight of her. The sight of her in his grip. The feel of her. This. This was better.
Aching to see more, all, he jackknifed to his feet and yanked off her boots. His trembling worsened as he reached under her soaked skirt, hooked his fingers around the crotch of her panties, and pulled. The material slipped down her legs, past her feet. Feet he placed exactly where he wanted—far apart at the edge of the mattress.