His hands hovered just beyond the curves of her breasts, hesitant to land on that purity.
Alyce took a deep breath, and his burst out of him as the cool silk filled his palms.
She tipped her head back, and the sweet thrust of her breasts stroked up to his fingertips. Raw lust closed his grip, gentled only by the tremor in his muscles. The instinct to overwhelm her shook him to the core.
He was not that man.
His body listened only to the tactile scuff of lace against the pads of his fingers. The sensation abraded the wisps of his restraint.
In one caress, he pushed the straps down her shoulders and unhooked the back, freeing her. She had such pale skin. Had it ever seen sunlight?
Never mind the hot eye of the sun; had any gaze at all but his rested here?
Mine. The impulse was so archaic, so primitive, he blushed at it. Not Homo sapiens at all, but Neanderthal. Where was his fucking club?
Her hands went to his fly, and he groaned.
Right.
She freed his heavy flesh as smoothly as he’d stripped her. He hissed out another breath when she grazed his hip bones as she peeled down the waistband of his jeans. They moved together, and her quick fingers undid the buttons of his shirt.
Pressed skin to hot skin, he closed his eyes, trying to steady himself.
But with eyes closed, his other senses only expanded. Hearing her gasp as she rubbed against his chest, he inhaled the heat and fragrance of her breath. His taut muscles raged against the confines of his will. Each rock of their knees on the mattress threatened to overturn him, demanding he take her down.
Not a man, not even a primordial hunter, but a beast.
The howl of recognition in him tore through the last of his self-possession.
He yanked out of his shirt—a button popped at the wrist—and he tipped her to her back.
She stared up, eyes bright and bold, as she kicked off the white panties.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered.
“And naked,” she said.
As if he might have missed it. “Do tell.”
She smiled and opened her arms.
The smile, simple and welcoming, ripped through him. “You want this?”
“No more words. You need this too.”
He did. As he’d never wanted anything so much. Not even the Bookkeeper’s archive key.
He couldn’t speak that, and apparently he wasn’t thinking again either, because somehow she had rolled him, and now she hovered over him, the last of his discarded clothing dropping from her hand.
“Now I’m naked,” he pointed out.
“You don’t have to tell me.”
Her lips descended, moonset slow in the darkness, inevitable. Her kiss touched down, and, hidden below the horizon of their coupled mouths, the arc of her tongue stroked his. Like some ancient mythology, her shadowed mysteries drew him deeper.
In the yielding of her body, he found himself above her again, the edges of his vision narrowing so only she remained, pale skin on white sheets, her dark hair spread like an inverse halo—a damned angel.
A shudder racked him, and he lowered his head, capturing her lips. She burned, coming back to life.
“So cold you are,” she whispered. “Come into me.”
No art. No poetry. If he’d ever known words, he forgot them, and between one heartbeat and the next, he was inside her.
Her wet heat gripped the length of him with unspeakable pleasure. The stroke as she drew away wrenched a groan from him, then redoubled when she impaled herself again, then again, and again in sweet torture.
The force of his desire rose, topped itself, reaching higher, a wave ripping itself apart in a frenzy of chaotic energy. He would die here, blown apart like the tenebrae.
Best give her what he could before he went.
His mouth on her breast made her arch, driving her deeper on his cock. He almost lost it then, but some niggling sense of male pride held him together. He slipped his hand between them and found the heated center of her passion. She bucked, fingers biting into his shoulders until he winced. He’d have bruises in the morning.
But she’d have at least this memory, damn it.
He forgot mind, body, and soul while he feasted on her. Each moan, each tremor, pushed him closer to the edge. But he wouldn’t fall, not without her.
“Alyce,” he said, “take me. Take it all.”
Her half-lidded eyes flew open, her gaze fixed on his. “Sidney …” And then the ripple that started inside her expanded outward, through her limbs, through him. She made a noise, halfway between a scream and the throaty laugh she’d given him earlier, and buried herself in his arms.
The riotous waves that had nearly overcome him washed through her, echoing back to him in concentric rings down his aching flesh.
He came in a violent rush that unlocked his elbows and dropped him like a stone onto her. Fortunately, she was immortal.
Gradually, his breath returned, though his brain was slower to catch up, still fried and off-line. He kissed the racing pulse under her jaw. Her reven twitched when she swallowed.
“Oh, Sidney,” she whispered. “I had no idea.”
“I’m the idea man,” he agreed. He thought he kept most of the gloating out of his tone. Whoever had come before him obviously hadn’t made an impression. Except the need to stake his claim wasn’t dissipating.
“I didn’t know.” Her voice wavered. “When you said I should take all of you …”
“I was overcome too. Really.” He pushed up onto one elbow. “Okay?”
She considered for a moment. “Very okay. And you?”
He laughed.
She didn’t. “I thought you might hate it.”
He brushed the tangled strands of her hair aside, his chest aching a little with tenderness, as if her grip had reached inside him and bruised his heart. “What would I possibly hate about the feel of you coming apart in my arms?”
She blushed. “I meant the demon.”
“That’s as much a part of you as your lovely eyes.”
“I didn’t mean my demon.”
His fingers slipped down to rest against her reven. “What?”
“Your demon.”
“My—?”
He started to pull away from her as she touched his shoulder. When had the bandage come off? That feralis bite could have gotten blood everywhere. …
Except the ragged wounds were gone, just a faint white jigsaw shape, crystal clear in his spectacle-free, flawless vision.
He scrambled back to his haunches. The chill that swept down his spine had nothing to do with his naked exposure.
She sat up. “All those demon lights, all that ether … More than just the malice came down on us tonight. I didn’t understand what it was—it didn’t make sense—but there must have been another demon among them. Yours.” She reached out, and the tips of her fingers just brushed the black curving lines that curled down from his breast to the front point of his pelvis bone. “You are possessed.”
CHAPTER 13
When Sidney recoiled from her touch, Alyce said, “I thought you knew. I thought that was why you stayed with me tonight.”
“Knew?” His voice broke. “I didn’t have the faintest fucking clue.”
“But you punched Liam. And you came to me through the malice.” And then he had whispered, so sweetly, Take me, taking and giving in one blissful communion.
In that instant—body, heart, and soul aligned—the haze that had been her only companion for so long had lifted. In the clarity, staring into the depths of his brown eyes was like finally finding the earth beneath her feet, and she’d felt there was a place for her.
That he flinched from her now ate like venom through her veins and blackened her heart.