He fought back ragged impulses as he drifted lower, tracing another kiss along the perfect line of her jaw.
Constance’s hands rose to his shoulders as she pressed herself closer to him, generous curves melting against the harder surfaces of Neil’s body—and setting every inch of him on fire.
He grazed over the sensitive skin at the base of her ear.The soft heat of a gasp brushed his throat.
The beast inside of him tugged more wildly at its leash.
Constance shivered in his grip—and then her pliant surprise shifted to a dangerous determination.
Her hand tangled in the cropped brown hair at the nape of his neck.“That doesn’t count,” she accused darkly...and took his mouth with her own.
Her lips delved hungrily.Her hands gripped his shoulders as she arched herself against him.
Want blasted through Neil like a hot wind, shattering the last vestiges of his self-control.
He used his greater strength to spin her around and press her against the wall instead.Then he plunged his fingers into the thick silk of her hair, tugged her head back, and devoured her.
His teeth grazed over her lower lip, tugging it before he moved in to catch the low groan that escaped from her throat in response.He dipped his tongue into her mouth, dancing it over her own.
She tasted like jasmine and nutmeg, honey and heat.
He wanted more.
He was only half aware of the flaming sword he still held in his hand.He slammed it into the wall to hold it out of the way.His mind vaguely registered that there was something odd about the blade’s angle.
Neil brushed the irritating thought aside like a fly.He would rather not have been holding the damned thing at all.Then he could have put both of his hands on Constance.Heneededthem on her—but they also needed the light.
The last delicate tendrils of his moral decency slipped through his fingers.“Connie,” he pleaded—and then forgot what he was begging for as Constance traced her tongue up the sensitive length of his throat.“Dear God.”
“I have been wanting to do that,” Constance reported, gloating.“You know, you’ve almost got a bit of stubble back here.”
She clarified by running her hand along the nascent beard roughening the edge of his jaw.
Neil groaned with a mix of mortification and lust, then kissed her again.
His free hand moved to her hip, feeling the strong curve of it under his grip as she fitted herself to him and explored his mouth with her tongue.It was like holding a river in his arms—power and suppleness, curves and strength.
Constance flexed against him in response to his touch, and friction exploded fireworks against the back of Neil’s eyelids.His reason degraded to a strangled sound in the back of his throat.
He wanted the rest of her—all of it.Right there, in a Somavamshi stepwell where they were very possibly going to meet their doom.
And he was fairly certain she would jump at the suggestion.
Constance didn’t give a damn about her virtue.She had frankly admitted to considering taking him as a lover in the past.
But you’d be ruining her, the rational angel on his shoulder reasonably pointed out.
Worth it,the devil in his trousers returned.
The war raged inside of him.Neil was momentarily consumed by it, teeth gritted with the effort it took to resist.
One thought, finally, rose above the others, fighting its way clear with an unexpected ferocity.
Not like this.
He took his hand from her hip and set it against the stone instead.“Connie…”
She paused at the desperation in his voice, her lips plump and red with kissing.Hair tumbled in abundant waves around her shoulders.Somehow she’d lost a pair of buttons, exposing the soft curve of the top of her breasts where they pressed up against the line of her corset.
