Page 43 of Dark Awakening

Gripping her hips, I press her against me. She clings fervently, legs wrapping around me, nuzzling my neck. Waves of pleasure course through me at her warmth. She's so delicate in my grasp I never want to let go. Gently, I lay her down, savoring her softness.

"Why do you hide your face?" she asks intently as if seeing through the darkness.

I smile slyly. "Soon, Angel." Though doubts still nag at me.

She snickers. "You think you can just have me whenever—?"

"You're mine. There's no fighting that." I inhale deeply, tamping down my flare of possession.

I want to confess my feelings, but chaos swirls in my mind. Despite the confusion, I must choose a path. Before she can respond, I hurry away, more conflicted than ever.

My thoughts tangle as I leave her apartment. Our bond can't be denied, yet I still resist.

I must either accept whatever spell has entrapped me and embrace the uncertainty it brings or find a way to break free of these shackles and restore my sanity. But which path leads to deliverance, and which to greater thrall?

I wander alone with my turmoiled thoughts, searching for an answer. But I suspect resolution will only come in the presence of my Angel...

Danica

24

So much for standing my ground and staying strong—he zapped me of all defenses in an instant.

Damn, Dark and Dangerous came at me strong as catnip! His earthy man musk, that hard body pressed on mine, the way he rasped sweet nothings in my ear...I was powerless against this sensory assault!

Now I'm sitting here questioning my life choices with lingering lady tingles. It's like he marked me with his sweet sorcery juices and got me questioning my loyalty to logic and reason.

Just who does Mr. Magic Fingers think he is, reading my vulnerabilities like a steamy paperback? I should've been freaked, but nope! This thirsty gal was gulping down everything he served.

I trace my fingers over my neck, remembering his hot breath, those soft lips... Girl, get it together! My body betrays me, aching for more of his sweet lovin'.

Everything about him reels me in like a fish on a hook, even though he's clearly chaos in a sexy wrapper. I barely know him, yet feel like our souls have been tangoing for lifetimes. None of this makes a lick of sense!

Why can't I resist him?

I take a scalding sip of liquid sanity—gotta get a hold on myself and my wayward lady parts.

Common sense urges me to end this insanity—report him, get a restraining order, beef up security. Take back control before things spiral further.

Yet even imagining such decisive action leaves me hollow. As baffling as this fixation is, I crave it like a drug, needing my next hit.

I thought I knew myself and my desires. Now, it all feels upside down. Everything I thought I understood about relationships and intimacy has been shaken at the core.

This man…this vampire has breached my defenses, leaving me exposed and raw in terrifying and exhilarating ways. He sees parts of me I don't even know exist.

I should flee this threat to my sanity, but everything in me strains toward him. Heart, body, and soul betray all rational thought, hungry to discover where this perilous path might lead. I'm on the edge of an erotic abyss I'm powerless to avoid...He awakens something in me hotter than I've ever known. And his damn audacious words!

“I want you aching and begging for this cock."

That made me want to yell out loud, begging him to fuck me senseless. His energy is so powerful, and I’m unsure what he looks like!

But when he finally removed his hoodie, I felt his body, and sweet Jesus! His physical presence is emblazoned in my mind, even with his face obscured. It was just raw, dominating masculinity standing before me.

I recall hard slabs of muscle, his shirt unable to disguise the formidable strength underneath. Shoulders so broad they eclipsed everything else, massive arms that could easily crush and conquer. His hair was cropped short on the sides, almost severe, with longer strands styled messily on top. A day or two's worth of rough stubble grazed his jawline.

He had to be at least six-foot-two or six-foot-four of pure, raw physicality. "Damn..." I breathed at the memory.

I mean, what chance did I have against this behemoth beefcake? Resistance was futile against that sculpted physique. I was powerless not to be overpowered. My only choice was to be swept away in his strong arms like a dainty doll.

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