She didn’t allow herself to think about Calanthe. About how there was a chance the vampire was still alive, after the clock had begun ticking backward, erasing everything that happened between her and Loren on the Control Tower.
She wouldn’t think about it. Not tonight.
Kicking off the covers, she swung her legs over the side of the bed. She grabbed a clean pair of underwear for her dresser and tiptoed to the bathroom in her suite. She flicked on the lights and turned the shower on, cranking the faucet as hot as the temperature would go. Steam was clouding the bathroom by the time she’d stripped off her clothes and slipped inside.
Once she was scrubbed clean, her muscles no longer taut and her hair blow-dried, she put her pajamas back on and swung open the door to the hallway.
She hadn’t even made it to the staircase when Darien came up the steps and around the corner. Loren froze as something like a sob clawed its way up her throat.
For a long while, they stared at each other. Standing several feet apart, feet frozen in place, as if not believing what their eyes were telling them.
And then they were moving.
Loren crossed the distance to him in a sprint, her eyes stinging with tears. He met her halfway, and she launched herself at him. He bent to catch her behind the thighs, lifting her up so her legs were wrapped around his waist, as he crushed his lips to hers. Her hands fisted in his hair as she pulled him close, unable to get enough of this. Ofhim.
Only when they had no choice but to come up for air did he speak. “I think you and I need to have a little talk.” Their faces were so close, Loren could see every fleck of silver in his eyes, every black eyelash. Still clutching her thighs and supporting her weight, his gaze was soft as he drank her in. Every part of her tingled at the look that darkened his eyes.
“Oh?” Loren breathed, smoothing a strand of hair from his face. His handsome, unmarked face. “And what do we have to talk about?”
“You said something to me.” Every gasped word was gruff with emotion. “Three words, if I’m remembering correctly.”
Loren arched a brow. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Darien Cassel.”
“Don’t play with me,” he growled, as he came in for another deep and delicious kiss. That kiss quickly turned to tongue and teeth, the hands that were wrapped around her thighs gripping her tighter, as he pinned her against the wall so hard the painting hanging upon it rattled.
When he finally broke the kiss to speak again, the words were thick and raspy with emotion. “You love me?”
Loren’s mouth wobbled. “Yes, Darien Cassel,” she said, cupping his face. “Idolove you. I’m so in love with you, it’s crazy.”
A smile flirted with his mouth. “Good. Because I love you more than anything in this world, Loren Calla.”
Tears rolled down her face, her heart swelling with such joy that it felt like she was glowing.
Darien kissed those tears away, one by one. “I believe everything happens for a reason,” he said, his mouth moving against her cheeks, the rumble of his voice reverberating deep into her bones. “And I believe that all the years that I spent killing and fighting—if all of it was just to lead me to you, then I am grateful for it. I’m grateful forthis.”His lips brushed tenderly over her closed eyelids. “And I’m grateful for you, Loren Calla.” He kissed her mouth, long and deep, until she lost her breath. “I’m so grateful for you.”
“I want you,” she whispered hoarsely, her cheeks still wet with the tears that wouldn’t stop. “I wantallof you. Right now.” His eyes darkened with such carnal desire that she instantly knew she was in trouble. Thebestsort of trouble.
His voice was a mirror of her own as he said, “Are you sure you’re ready?”
“You’re not going to make me beg,” Loren said with an upward flick of her brows, “are you?”
Darien gave her a devilish grin that stole her breath right out of her lungs. “Whose suite?”
“Mine.” And when she nipped at his bottom lip, a groan rose in his throat.
Herroom—because it was closest.
Darien carried her to the door, where he turned the handle with his elbow and swung it open. Even when he set her on her feet, she wouldn’t let go of him, couldn’t get enough of him. Skin to skin and mouth to mouth, Darien nudged her toward the lamplit bed. As they moved, he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it aside.
When her thighs hit the foot of the bed, he lay her back gently among the rumpled covers. Her heart was slamming in her chest, and she found that the muscles in her legs were rigid.
The tension didn’t escape him, and he froze in place where he was kneeling on the bed between her thighs, his hands gripping the stretchy band of her pajama shorts. “Loren.” It was a question.
And Loren’s words were pathetically small as she said, “I guess this might be a good time to tell you I’ve never done this before.”
It took Darien so long to speak, that Loren began to feel worried. Finally, he blurted, “You can’t be serious. All that flirting we did, everything I said to you—”
“Was because I wanted you to say it,” she interrupted gently. “I wanted everything you gave me, and I want more. I want all of you, Darien.” She slanted an eyebrow. “Are you going to give it to me, or do I have to beg you for it?”
