Page 142 of Heir of the Beast

~Don’t hyperventilate.~

When I glance back, I notice that he is taking me in like I was him. The fire in his eyes is borderline unnatural.

He pushes off the balcony and walks up to me slowly, like a stalking predator. His chest is rising and falling, and I can see the veins in his neck, jaw tense.

I swallow and look up at him, incredibly nervous. He stops mere breaths from me, and I can’t look away, though I try. I am shaking, senses on overdrive.

I feel my eyes sting with emotion, and I make a small sound.

His glittering gaze moves over my face, to my lips, then down to the swell of my breasts. He is breathing hard. The tension is so thick I can almost taste it, choke on it.

Apollo reaches for my hand and gently brings it to his hot lips, eyes locked on mine. I suck in a harsh breath when I feel his tongue swirl over my inner wrist.

He kisses each finger so softly I think I might die from the torture. The low lighting on his face gives him a wicked appeal, dangerous. This man is capable of very bad things, naughty things.

“Dance with me,” he whispers.

I do not have a voice.

He tilts his head and takes my hand, pulling me. Apollo pulls me to the dimly lit dance floor, which is very crowded.

But I don’t see any of them.

A melody similar to “Moonlight Sonata” rings loudly in the air, intensifying our intangible chemistry. The sound is dark and sensual, transforming, manifesting something quite powerful.

His hand on my lower back presses me to him, his hot mouth tracing down my long neck, barely touching his tongue there. We are moving, swaying slowly, gracefully, as he kisses my shoulder.

My eyes fall closed, and a moan escapes my lips.

There is no need for words.

I can hear him loud and clear.

Apollo spins me, and his hands are everywhere they shouldn’t be in an elegant dance. I catch a glimpse of his eyes in the dim lighting and a thrill explodes in my body.

He has a dark grin playing on his lips as his movements become more demanding. He jerks me up against his body and dips me aggressively.

Luckily, I am a great dancer, and I adapt to him, feeling the passion, the dark desire burning off him.

I faintly realize Apollo is a brilliant dancer—a ~sexy ~dancer.

His lips scorch a burning trail down my neck to the valley between my breasts, licking and softly sucking. I feel him smile against me and heat swarms in my belly.

He pulls me back up and we spin together, his lower hand pressing and molding my ass to him. More strands of hair escape into Apollo’s face making him even sexier than ever.

I am smoldering, burning embers.

With one breath of air, I will ignite.

His lips are on my neck, my body pressing to his most scandalously. I can feel the hard muscle under his clothes and the heat of his body.

He leans back and grabs my face with his calloused hand. He stares down at me with an intensity that takes my breath away. His lips crush to mine, groaning into me.

This kiss is different. It is profound.

I feel a tear stream down my cheek as his mouth devours mine. I can barely catch a breath for he is kissing me so furiously. It’s almost as if the kiss is punishing me, bruising me.

We stop dancing in the middle of the dance floor, my hands cupping his face as we kiss, our lips pouring into one another. The ground falls away, reality falls away.

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