Page 49 of Which Witch Is Wicked?
She bit at his lip and he groaned, his hands lowering on her body in a long, torturous journey. Her shoulder blades, the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips. His kiss was like poetry against her mouth. It was as though he described every emotion she evoked in a language that even William Blake could not have comprehended. But she understood every word. Every insinuation.
The first of which was wonder.
Julian Roarke had never had the pleasure of exploring a woman's shape with his hands. Of searching for soft curves in a place where his body had angles and raw, hard muscle. If he touched a woman she died. Horribly.
But not Aerin. She was immune to his lethal powers. Though she could feel them trying to work on her. It was as though her very molecules battled the toxicity of his and won. It made her feel feverish. It made her heart pump faster, her blood work harder. It made her feel like every time he touched her, she became stronger for fighting him. And stronger for surrendering.
When he filled his large hands with her ass and dragged her against him, the movement sent a shock of lust straight through her loins. She was mindless with it. Overwhelmed by the barrel of his desire pressed against her belly.
Her hands, suddenly greedy for his flesh, fumbled with his shirt buttons until they fell away and she splayed her palms against the hard muscle and hot, smooth skin of his chest.
She heard the breathless sound he made low in his throat, but was too absorbed and delighted in how his muscles twitched and tightened beneath her touch.
Breaking their kiss, she pulled back to regard his sharp features, made more vague by the kindness of moonlight. Liquid heat gathered inside her and so did something else. Something hotter than fire. Something darker than desire. Something dangerous and bleak, but also possessive and feral. Aerin could no longer tell which emotions were hers and which belonged to him. What passed between them in that moment surpassed the present and hinted at the infinite, and her mortal brain struggled to comprehend it.
"I always wondered what it would be like to touch someone," he whispered, grazing her cheek with his knuckles. "But, I never dared allow myself to contemplate what it would be like for someone to reach for me. To touch me. Aerin...I—"
"Shut up and kiss me." Aerin tugged at his shirt, bringing his mouth against hers once more. This was safer. This was better. She'd stopped him from saying something that was too dangerous. That would make this more than it was.
That would make her fall for him.
She took in a sharp, shocked breath and he took advantage. His tongue lapping at the inside of her mouth, curling over hers, exploring the moist depths of her in a parody of what was to come next. His hands cupped her face like it was made of the most precious glass. His lips were searing and tender and everything that filled his heart spilled into her, magnified by her empathic abilities until she was swept along in a tidal wave of unfamiliar emotion.
In that moment, Aerin opened herself to him. Her mouth, her magic, her heart. Somehow, for some reason, her defenses dropped. Her walls crumbled and she was alone, like a specter beneath a streetlamp, for all the world to see.
And right away, she knew she'd made a gigantic mistake.
8
Whatever pulsed between Julian and Aerin morphed from tender to malevolent. Suddenly Julian's grip on her face was no longer gentle, but painful. And this time when she bit his lip, it drew blood.
Lust still surged through them, but it became something else too. Not possessive any longer, but dominant. Not searing, but seething. They were going to fuck each other. And it was going to hurt. It wouldn't be the kind of give and take sex that would leave them on equal ground.
This kind of fucking would have winner and a loser. And the loser might give up something they were not ready to have taken from them.
With a raw sound Julian pried his mouth from hers and peeled his body away, almost pushing her into where Archimedes stood observing them with mild disinterest.
He stalked to the edge of the cliff, scrubbing his face with his hands until he sighed and let them drop, staring off over the ocean.
Aerin took a few deep, steadying breaths. Willing herself to calm, trying to regain control over whatever situation had just arisen between them.
Putting her barriers back into place.
"What just happened?" she demanded, shocked at the hoarse note in her voice.
The breeze turned into a wind that lifted the corners of Julian's shirt still hanging open, causing it to flare out behind him.
She looked away. He'd sought refuge from her in the right place. He knew she was afraid of heights. That she wouldn't follow him to the edge.
"You have to go," he rasped. "We should not be here."
Aerin couldn't shake the darkness. Her skin slithered with unease and her blood boiled with irritation. "What the fuck, Julian?Youcalled me out here.Youkissed me. Now you're pushing me away? My balls are turning blue here. What gives?"
He didn't look at her. "You have to leave. Now."
"Like hell I do." She crossed her arms over her chest, then uncrossed them and let them hang at her sides, hands curling into fists. Rule number four of corporate warfare: don't make defensive gestures.
Don't show him how confused you are.
