Page 18 of All Mixed Up

As soon as we got inside, he robbed the sound from every cell of my throat. By plunging his tongue down it. At the same time, he shoved me against the door I’d just closed. Pinned me with the might of his huge body. Drowned me in the fierce force of his need.

No.

Not anymore.

Not need.

The force of his lust.

A high sigh swirled through my mouth. The resistance drained from my limbs. The will vanished from my mind. He was sweeping into it all, and I liked it. Holy shit, I felt born for it. He was no longer just an inspiration for my fantasies. He’d become every sordid, sweltering vision from them.

I wanted him.

And I was damn tired of feeling conflicted about it.

I mean, why? The effort was feeling more like asking why day couldn’t be night, the planets couldn’t reverse their orbits, or lions would just stop craving their prey. Our attraction was just as elemental. Primal. Animal attraction. The urge to merge. The caveman crazies. We could’ve spent all night attaching labels, and they wouldn’t change a damn thing. This was a pull we couldn’t control, spawned from the insane mix of our chemistries. Nothing less, but nothing more, as well. We’d scratch the crazy itch and then be done. Tomorrow, he could go back to his princesses, actresses, and models. I could go back to the work I loved and the good money Milo paid me to do it.

But tonight, right now…

It was about the fire.

The magnificent, marauding, invading, perfect, inferno.

Letting it in. Letting it possess. Letting it burn.

Letting him take over.

“Damn. Ohhh, yesss…” I hissed it out as he bit into the other side of my neck. Then again as he became a decadent dervish, ripping away my hoodie, my T-shirt, my bra. I dissolved in full as he scooped his own sweater up then off. I swept my hands down his torso, letting my words become a string of delighted sounds while stroking up and down his V-shaped sinew.

Beneath my fingers, his skin turned into flames. I commiserated with the feeling. He was just as beautiful as I’d envisioned. His bold pecs topped twin ladders of ripped abs, centered by an arrow of dark hair that led my gaze…

Right…

Down…

There.

Without thinking, I reached for the buttons covering his crotch. When I’d undone them, he shoved the denim down. He wasn’t commando—perhaps the first real surprise of my night—nor did he make any motion to shuck the black briefs hugging his muscled hips and thighs—or the astounding evidence of his desire.

I looked up in silent question—just in time to watch him step from the puddle of the jeans and sweep me up, pulling me close as he headed straight for the bedroom. No scenic routes for this man, and that was fine with me. I’d had the scenic route already tonight, and was still paying the price for that mistake.

Or…reaping the reward?

Was there really a difference?

And did I care?

Surprise number two of the night: once settling me to the middle of the messy sheets and blankets, Lucien didn’t join me in them. At that point, I actually colored a little. I hadn’t exactly picked up when leaving for the airport with Leese and Greer. I glanced around nervously and prepared to mumble an apology—it was technically his place, after all—but his dark wolf glower was my instant mute button.

Our silence was still golden.

And molten.

And mesmerizing.

Lucien stared down at me for the better part of a minute, his inky eyes igniting my nerves and pulsing my pussy, before he dipped a small nod my way. Holy freak. The move needed to be added to the worldwide canon of male sexiness, on the shelf next to Idris’s strut and Channing’s hip rolls. He pivoted and left the room, though it was all the code I needed to know exactly how he wanted me upon his return.

Totally nude. And very ready.