Pure Desire. Denise Tompkins
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The opening guitar cords for Saving Abel’s “The Sex is Good” began. She blinked slowly, once, twice—her hips began to swivel—three times. Her arms snaked over her head. Turning away from Dominic, she gave herself over to the music, let it weave through the fiber of her being and turn her body into a sinuous column of perpetual motion.
Broad hands settled lightly on her hips at the same time that huge, capable body slid in behind her. He pulled her close. The way his hair fell forward over her bare shoulder and traced the upper swell of her breast encouraged her to reach behind her, grasp his head and pull him closer.
Thoughts ricocheted through her mind with a mental rat-a-tat-tat rhythm. She had a job to do. He smelled crisp and hot and clean. She needed to resist the urge to fall into his arms. He held her in his hands with care. She had to figure out who he’d bargained with to retain his angelic powers. He had no wings. She hungered for his touch. He touched her now, brushing one hand up her bare arm and moving her hair aside to touch his lips to the hollow beneath her ear. She had craved him from the first moment she’d seen him. He wanted her now. She couldn’t go much longer without knowing what he tasted like. His tongue traced a line between neck and shoulder.
The effect was electrifying. Rhyan let him turn her chin toward him.
He didn’t lower his lips to hers, despite her silent plea that he take the choice from her. That he make this about following his lead to get where she needed to go instead of choosing her own path. Instead, he let possibility weave an invisible spell around them. Lust’s gossamer threads pulled taught. Proved unbreakable. Panted breaths collided in that finite space between her lips and his. He smelled of rum, expensive cologne and burgeoning sexual appetite.
Blue eyes blazed, roaming over her in a proprietary way. It was the look a man gave a car he intended to test drive but had no intention of bringing home.
Understanding blazed through her, burning off her desire while the truth lashed her pride. All she’d wanted was to belong somewhere, to someone, and she’d foolishly let herself believe Dominic could be her heart’s moor. In truth, she didn’t belong here. She didn’t belong to this man. She didn’t belong in the Realm. No matter where she went, she ended up a pawn.
The Caste thought to use her to bring Dominic down. Dominic thought to use her for a night of pleasure. The League would pounce on her the moment an opportunity presented itself. Wasn’t it about time she took a little something for herself? The Caste would get their precious information, but she’d glean it her way. And Dominic would have his lusts slaked, because she was going to seduce him. The League could kiss her ass. The players needed to learn she wasn’t disposable. Her lovely dance partner would be her first pupil.
Someone hand me an apple, she thought, because I’m about to take the nephilim to school.
Chapter Three
Dominic knew two things with absolute certainty. First? The woman under his hands moved her body in a way that suggested everything below her nose was double-jointed. His cock kicked at the idea, and he brushed against her ass. She shifted to accommodate the caress. What had been a passing thought quickly became a full-blown erection. And there was that word again. Blown.
He swallowed his groan.
Second? He knew there had been a second half to this thought train, but damn if he could retrieve it. All that mattered at the moment was Rhyan and the way she ground her ass against his groin.
His hands at her waist helped Dom lead her. Or be led. The longer they were out there, the less sure he was about whom directed whom. For the first time in his life, he was happy to have someone lead him by the proverbial nose. His cock pulsed.
He couldn’t stop the growl that rumbled through his chest.
Rhyan stretched and writhed against him, settling her lush curves to his hard contours.
His thumbs traced the bottom of her rib cage as he slid his hands around her until his forearms crossed. He pulled her closer, eliminating the remaining airspace between them. The planes of her abdomen were supple yet hard, soft yet firm. She was all woman and owned every ounce of her femininity, totally unapologetic for it.
Curling over her, he closed his eyes and ran his cheek over her hair, lost in the scent of rain on a dry desert night. She turned her chin enough to give him better access to her neck and grasped his head, holding it close. Music shifted to something slow with a steady, deep beat. He needed to tip the DJ tonight, because the guy was spinning tunes right off the soundtrack to seduction.
Dominic traced two fingers up her jawline and tucked her hair aside. A small shudder raced through her. Arousal. Eyes still closed, he gave himself over to his senses—the way the silk of her dress caught on the minor calluses on his hands, the ebb and flow of the crowd’s movement around them, the tickle of her perfume in his nose.
The need to taste her skin again curled through his pelvis. He settled his parted lips below her ear, the tip of his tongue caressing her carotid artery. She jerked once before her pulse took up a harder beat. Salt from her skin made his mouth water. Settling his teeth over her pulse point, he gently bit down.
Her fingers flexed against his skull and she gasped.
That sound, so uncontrolled and uninhibited, fueled lust’s flame and incinerated the fabrics of reason and logic. A soft touch of his tongue to the area he’d nipped gave him time to refocus. He huffed a breath against her skin, smiling when she shivered. Who did he think he was kidding? All the “focus” in the world wasn’t going to bring him down. Only a full release would get his head sorted out, allow him to think.
He rested his lips against her ear. “Let’s get out of here.”
She stiffened. The way her chest heaved had been so damn sexy. When she stopped breathing at his suggestion? Not so much.
“Problem?”
“Yes.”
Dom stilled, relaxing his hold on her. “Want me to call you a cab?” When she didn’t respond, he let his arms fall to his sides and took a short step back. He wanted her, craved her with a bone-deep hunger he’d never experienced. Tension shortened every muscle in his body until he swore his bones fractured under the strain of her rejection. Fuck this. No one-night stand was worth this. He was out. Turning to leave, he saw her chin fall. He didn’t stop. She had every right to pass on the night just like he had every right to keep freaking moving without apology.
Her nails dug into his arm.
He glanced back, a terse dismissal forming on his tongue. The words never made it out.
Rhyan closed the distance between them. Winding her lithe body around him, she became his true north, pulling him around to align with her. Long fingers shoved through his hair. A hard yank pulled his head down to meet her seeking mouth.
Her lips were soft and full, her mouth hot and demanding. She slid that mouth over his and sank her teeth into his lower lip hard enough to tread the fine line between pleasure and pain. He was so onboard with that.
* * *
She pulled herself against him, one foot tracing his ankle, her back arched to press her breasts against his chest. The kiss evolved into a full-body event. Pulling one hand free of his hair, she reached between them, untucked his shirt and raked her nails down his abs. Those deft fingers curled around his waistband and tugged.
His hips pumped forward, the movement small but undeniable.
Hard breaths collided as she broke the kiss. Her eyes fluttered open. “Yes.”
No one word had ever been sweeter or more potentially ambiguous. He splayed one hand over her lower back and ran the other under her hair and around the back of her neck. “Be more specific. Two minutes ago I was getting ready to call you a cab.”
She closed her eyes. “I’m ready to go.”
“Where?”
“With you.” The pink tip of her tongue darted out to touch