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53
“You shouldn’t have come out here.” He growled as he took her
face between his hands. He shifted them slightly until they tangled in
her long hair. He looked righteously masculine, and Meg felt her heart
speed up.
It took her a moment to form the words. “I had to come.”
He was so close. His neck and shoulder were injured, the wounds
seeping blood. She should be disgusted by him, but she knew she was
seeing a piece of him that was important. He was a warrior, and not
the kind who dropped a bomb from above or pushed a button from
miles away. He fought in close quarters. His life was always on the
line. He was a knight, and she suddenly felt like his lady. He had been
intent on destruction, but she had stayed his hand. It was a heady
feeling.
His mouth latched on to hers. The world fell away. Somewhere in
the back of her mind, she knew that others watched them. She could
even hear the announcer call the battle in favor of Beck. The crowd
cheered, and then she heard something about a public display of
sexual compatibility, but his tongue was sweeping inside her mouth.
He held her head where he wanted it, and she was deliciously
powerless against his assault. Meg felt her skin tingle everywhere it
met his. He hauled her tightly against his frame. She could feel his
desire. His erection pressed long and thick against her belly. His body
moved against hers, and Meg found herself rubbing helplessly against
him.
Meg opened her mind to the experience. It seemed like the right
thing to do. Even as his body prodded hers, she felt his mind playing
at the edges of her consciousness. It was almost as if there were gates
to her mind, and like the marauder he was, Beck wanted in. Meg let
them fall away and was suddenly overwhelmed.
