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Could make him do things he shouldn’t do.
“It will be okay, Alaric.”
It was the use of his name that made him look, the first time he’d heard it on her lips. The sound of it charged the air around them, tension crackling as the rest of the world faded away at the sight of her pale hand resting against his black sleeve.
“Clara...”
His voice came out a growl, raw and on the verge of doing something very unprincely. It should have made her yank her hand away and run for the door.
Instead, her fingers tightened on his sleeve. Her sharp inhale echoed like a gunshot in the room.
Then he looked up, met those arctic-blue eyes with his own gaze, and the world burned.
Did he move first? Did she? Or did they both just crash into each other at the speed of light? One moment they were staring at each other, awareness washing over them in waves and drowning them in lust. The next their bodies were pressed together so tightly he didn’t even breathe before his hands slid into her silky hair and held her in place as he slanted his lips across hers.
It wasn’t a gentle, courtly kiss. It wasn’t romantic. It was hard, possessive, almost punishing, as if to show her the animal he’d always feared he secretly was beneath the controlled exterior he presented to the world.
Like your father.
Then her hands came up and cupped his face, cool and gentle, soothing some of the angry passion smoldering in his chest. It didn’t stop him from running his tongue along the seam of her mouth and invading when her lips parted for him. But it did stop him from flinging her away and ordering her to leave before he did something even more stupid.
Something like let his hands move from her hair, now tumbling in a blond mass of curls down her back to her waist, and pull her hips against his. Something like deepening the kiss when she moaned into his mouth and arched her lithe body against him.
The thinnest thread of sanity broke through. It gave him just enough power to pull back, to rest his forehead against hers as his chest heaved.
“Clara, we—”
Her hands rested on his chest, her touch searing him straight through the thin fabric of his dress shirt.
“Alaric.”
The raw need in her voice made his grip tighten.
“Don’t stop.”
Had he thought he was on fire before? Because it was nothing compared to the inferno that blazed forth and scorched all rational thought at her words. He scooped her up in his arms, planting another soul-searing kiss on her lips as he moved to the desk. Her fingers delved into his hair, tangled themselves tight, the pressure making him groan as his lust urged him on.
He set her down on the desk with her legs draped over the edge. He fisted handfuls of silk, the material cold compared to the electrifying warmth of her thighs as he bared them to his touch and moved between them. His other hand wound around the back of her neck and kept her lips fused to his.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, common sense tried to break through. He almost stopped, stepped back from the precipice of desire.
And then his fingers grazed the silky skin between her thighs, damp, hot and completely naked. He froze.
“Clara.”
He didn’t recognize his own voice—harsh, grating, dark and heavy with a lust he’d never experienced.
She arched her hips against his touch. His fingers moved of their own accord, stroking her wet heat.
“I didn’t...” Her voice trailed off as she started to pull back. Uncertainty flitted across her face. “I didn’t plan for this—”
He silenced her with another kiss. It didn’t matter if she hadn’t worn panties to torment him or for some other reason. All that mattered here, now, was that she washis.
Her hips moved frantically, matching the thrust of his fingers as his thumb gently caressed her most sensitive skin. Dear God, she was so tight, so wet for him. When she shuddered, crying out into his mouth, he swallowed her moans of pleasure.
That’s enough. It had to be enough. He couldn’t let things go further...
Dimly, he heard the hiss of a zipper. A moment later, her fingers wrapped around his hard length and he couldn’t hold back his groan. Her hand pumped up and down, a motion that nearly made him embarrass himself. He grabbed her wrist and stilled her movement.
