Page 23 of Dance With the Devil (Dark-Hunter 3)
The glass top fell sideways, sending things flying.
Something hit her in the head and something shattered.
Astrid froze, afraid to move.
She didn't know what had broken, but the sound had been unmistakable.
Where was the glass?
Her heart pounding, she cursed her blindness. She didn't dare move for fear of cutting herself.
"Sasha?" she asked.
He didn't answer.
"Don't move." Zarek's deep commanding voice shivered down her spine.
The next thing she knew two strong arms lifted her up from the floor with an ease that was truly terrifying. He cradled her against a body that was rock hard and lean. One that rippled with every move he made as he walked her away from the den.
She put her arms around broad, masculine shoulders that stiffened in reaction to her touch. His breath fell against her face, making her entire body melt.
"Zarek?" she asked tentatively.
"Is there anyone else in this house who can carry you that I need to know about?"
She ignored his sarcasm as he carried her to the kitchen and set her down on a chair.
She missed his heat instantly. It brought an odd ache to her chest that she neither expected nor understood.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
He didn't respond. Instead, she heard him leave the room.
A few minutes later, he returned and dumped something into the trash can.
"I don't know what you did to Scooby," he said, his tone almost normal, "but he's off in a corner lying down on a sweater and growling at me."
She stifled the urge to laugh at that image. "He's being bad."
"Yeah, well, where I come from, we beat things that are bad."
Astrid frowned at his words and the underlying emotion they betrayed. "Sometimes understanding is more important than punishment."
"And sometimes it's not."
"Maybe," she whispered.
Zarek turned on the water in the sink. It sounded as if he were washing his hands again.
Strange, he seemed to do that a lot.
"I got up all the glass I could find," he said over the sound of the rushing water, "but the crystal vase on your table shattered pretty badly. You might want to wear shoes in there for a few days."
Astrid was strangely touched by his actions and his warning. She got up from her chair and crossed the floor to stand next to him. Even though she couldn't see him, she could feel him now. Feel his heat, his strength.
Feel the raw sensuality of the man.
It shivered through her and down her body, enticing her with desire and need.
A foreign part of her ached to reach out and touch the smooth, tawny skin that beckoned her with the promise of primal heat. Even now she remembered the way his skin had looked. The way the light had played on it.
She wanted to pull his lips to hers and see what he tasted like. See if he could be tender.
Or would he be rough and forceful?
Astrid should be shocked by her thoughts. As a judge, she wasn't supposed to have this kind of curiosity, but as a woman, she couldn't help it.
It had been a long, long time since she'd felt desire for a man. Deep down there was even a part of her that yearned to find in him the goodness that Acheron believed in.
That was something she hadn't wanted to do in centuries either.
Zarek's kindness was unwarranted. "How did you know I needed you?"
"I heard the glass break and figured you were trapped."
She smiled. "That was very sweet of you."
She had a feeling he was staring at her. Her flesh warmed considerably at the thought. Her breasts hardened.
"I'm not sweet, princess. Trust me."
No, he wasn't sweet. He was hard. Prickly and strangely fascinating. Like a wild beast that needed to be tamed.
If anyone could ever tame something like him.
"I was attempting to give you some clothes," she said softly, trying to regain control of her body, which didn't seem to want to respond to common sense. "There are more sweaters in the bottom of my closet if you'd like to borrow them."
He scoffed at that as he turned off the water and ripped a paper towel off to dry his hands. "Your clothes won't fit me, princess."
She laughed. "They're not mine. They belong to a male friend."
Zarek couldn't breathe with her so close to him. All he had to do was lean down ever so slightly and he could kiss her slightly parted lips.
Reach out and he would touch her.
What truly scared him was just how much he wanted to touch her. How much he wanted to press his body to hers and feel her soft curves against the hard male lines of his.
He couldn't remember ever wanting anything more.
Closing his eyes, he was seared with an image of the two of them naked. Of him placing her up on the counter in front of him so that he could screw her brains out. Of sliding in and out of her heat until he was too tired to stand.
Too sore to move.
He wanted to feel the warmth of her skin sliding against his. Her breath on his flesh.
Most of all, he wanted her scent on his skin. To know what it felt like to have a woman who didn't show fear or contempt of him.
In all these centuries, he'd never screwed a woman he hadn't paid for. Most of the time he hadn't even had that.
He'd been alone for so long...
"Where's this male friend of yours?" he asked, his voice strangely thick as he thought of her with another man. It hurt in a way it shouldn't.
Sasha came into the room to stare at them and bark.
"My friend died," Astrid said without hesitation.
Zarek arched a brow. "Died how?"
"Mmm, he had parvo."
"Isn't that a dog's disease?"
"Yes. It was tragic."
"Hey!" Sasha said to Astrid. "I resent that."
"Behave or I will give you parvo."
Zarek stepped away from her. "Do you miss him?"
She glanced in the direction of Sasha's bark. "No, not really. He was a bit of a pain."
"I'll show you pain, nymph. Just you wait."
Astrid bit back a smile. "So are you interested in the clothes?" she asked Zarek.
"Sure."
She led him to her room.
"You are so evil," Sasha snarled. "Just wait. I will get you back for this. You know that comforter you're so fond of? It's toast. And I wouldn't use my slippers again if I were you."
