Page 16 of Dark Rival

“Ailios.”

She met his gaze, panting and writhing, trying to ride him when he was the one riding her, satisfying her.

When he had her attention, he poured his power into her. She cried out—stunned—and he let the dam break.

She sobbed in ecstasy. He closed his eyes and drove hard over and over again, coming with her, encouraging her to come again. She did. He did. She shouted as he roared. He had waited so long…he would pleasure her like this, all night.

ALLIE LAY LIMP and exhausted in Royce’s bed, acutely aware of her wildly pounding heart and the man who lay on his back beside her. Finally her mind started to work.

Was it really dawn? For pale gray light was slipping into the bedchamber.

Her heart refused to slow. She covered it with her hand. They had made love for hours—since early last evening—and for the first time in her life she was sated, oh, yes.

Royce hadn’t tired, flagged, or even softened, not a single time.

She was a Healer but she was very human; clearly he was not. Because he’d climaxed as many times as she had, and she wasn’t sure if she’d had dozens of orgasms or one single, endless one.

And she was pretty certain he’d had some kind of control over her orgasms, too.

She turned her head. “Tyrant,” she whispered, smiling.

He lay on his back, too, but his breathing was slow and even, and he was staring at her. Their gazes locked.

And he smiled at her. It was a surprisingly soft look from such a hard man, and it changed his entire face. He became too beautiful for words. “Are ye pleased?”

She beamed and turned onto her side, aware of his gaze instantly moving to her breasts and belly and legs, before lifting. She laid her hand on his magnificent chest. She traced a frightening scar. “Very pleased. How can you even ask?”

Was he relieved? Surely he knew he was supersexed. He simply shrugged, as if indifferent, but his gaze was intense and searching. “Are ye pleased enough to break off with yer man?”

Allie was confused.

“Brian,” he said softly.

Her eyes widened. She felt as if an entire lifetime had passed since the fund-raiser the other night. “He’s not my man.”

He absorbed that. Then, “Since when? Tonight?”

She grinned and rubbed his rock-hard pectoral muscle, then scraped her nails over his nipple. “I was going to break it off with him the night of the party.”

He nodded at that.

Allie realized, in shock, that his large but flaccid member was stiffening. How was it possible?

“Yer touching me,” he said softly, as if reading her mind.

“I want to touch you,” she said, staring and stroking the tight skin over his ribs. “Who are you? What just happened isn’t humanly possible.”

He sat up against a number of pillows, another beautiful smile playing. “Aye. No man can bed a woman in such a way. Ye should remember that.”

“As if any woman would ever forget!” Becoming serious, she sat up, too. She wanted to snuggle, but she didn’t—this was too important. “You vanquished three demons the other night as if it were a piece of cake. But you used a sword as well as your energy, not a gun.” Her mind began to really get into the game. “You said you waited five hundred–odd years for me.” But hadn’t Tabby said he was an older man?

He shrugged casually again. “Well, I’m a patient man.”

“How old are you?”

“It doesna matter, Ailios.”

But she was sorting it out. “Last night, in South Hampton, that was you, but younger, way younger—five hundred and seventy-seven years younger.”