Page 70 of The Exile's Curse

Infuriating man.

She climbed off the bed she'd flung herself down on and crossed to the door, opening it carefully to avoid any noise. "What do you want?"

"I came to apologize. Let me in."

She wasn't sure why she stepped back, why she did as he commanded.

Why she felt suddenly adrift.

He stepped into the room, and her heart began to pound.

He opened his mouth, and she knew that if he spoke—if he said sorry or he took it back—if he said he didn't think she was beautiful, or said he wouldn't watch her anymore, then she was going to come apart.

She'd have to kill him, or...

"Impossible," she muttered, then stepped forward and pulled his head down to hers, pressing her lips to his as though she was drowning and he was the only source of air in the world.

Maybe he was. Or something more potent still.

Because at the first taste of him, something wild roared through her veins and burned every ounce of sense and self-preservation away to ash.

He pulled her closer with one hand, fingers gripping tight. The other hand slapped against the wall, sparking a ward to life with a thrust of power that probably wasn't particularly subtle.

She didn't care about subtle. She wanted him.

She was going to damn well have him.

Somehow they moved across the room, until his legs hit the bed and he tumbled backward, pulling her with him. She landed atop warm, hard male and nearly purred with the pleasure of it as their kiss grew more frantic. They kissed and rolled, and for a time, she wasn't sure which way was up or down or even who she was anymore.

Until she found herself on top of him, half kneeling, staring down at him as both of them gasped for breath. Did she look as shocked and lust drunk as he did? She suspected she did.

Good.

He reached for her, and she held up a hand. He froze obediently, which made her smile. "No," she said. "My way."

"Whatever the hell way you want," he breathed and raised his hands to grip the iron bed frame. Maybe he only meant to prove that he would behave himself. But there was something nearly irresistible about the thought of him beneath her, at her mercy. She undid his cravat with a few fast tugs and, when he made no move to object, tied his hands in place.

His eyes were wide, pupils blown so that all she would have been able to see, had there been more light than the fire, would have been a thin rim of that wild wicked green. That window into the true heart of the man. The one he kept hidden beneath the layers of truth and duty and control.

She pressed her hips down harder, felt him there, hard beneath her. Let the sensation run through her. But it wasn't enough. She fumbled with her skirts, pulling the ridiculous lengths of fabric out of the way so she could get to his breeches. Get her hands on what she wanted. His cock was hot under her fingers as she freed it and positioned herself to slide against the length of him.

He felt so good, the jolt of pleasure so fierce, that she tipped her head back, closing her eyes to chase the feeling.

"Open your eyes," he said, the words rough and heavy. His heart was pounding under her hands, the beat vibrating up through her skin, joining the shivers of light and power. She pressed deeper against him, and he hissed.

"Goddess damn it, Chloe," he growled. "You can hate me, you can use me if you want. But you will open your eyes. No pretending it's somebody else inside you."

Her eyes flew open. "That wasn't—"

"I don't care about was or wasn't," he said. "But you will look at me while you fuck me."

His fingers tightened around the length of material stretched between his wrists and the bed frame. The muscles in his throat were tense, his pupils wild and dark and dangerous. He was hot and heavy between her legs, and all she had to do was move a little and he would be inside her.

She did hate him. Or she should. She was trying to remember why. Or why she should care if she did. "You said you wouldn't use your powers on me."

"I'm not," he groaned, hips pressing upward. "Chloe...."

She hated him, but her body didn't hate the sound of her name on his lips when he said it like that.

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