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She curled her hands into fists as they passed through the entryway, both heading toward the stairs and to their separate rooms. And then she stopped.
“Ajax,” she said.
He stopped and turned to look at her, and then the world burned down to nothing but him. There was no time to think, to doubt, to worry. None of that stupid, aching emotion. Because this wasn’t desire anymore. It was need. The need to gain some control. To make him react.
To make him desire like she did. Because she couldn’t stand that he seemed so cool. Couldn’t stand that he was so unshaken.
She took a step toward him and planted both her hands on his shoulders, pushing him back against the wall at the same moment she rose up on her tiptoes to capture his lips in a kiss.
He was still for a moment, and then, with a feral growl, his arm came up to wrap around her waist.
Ajax Kouros was not an easy man to shock, and yet, he had been shocked more than once in the past two days. First by his runaway bride, then by his replacement bride, and now, by the kiss she was giving him.
A kiss that seemed to include her entire body. Maybe more than that. Not just skin and flesh, but her very soul.
It wasn’t like anything in his experience. It didn’t taste like booze and simple lust. It was passion given breath. And for a moment, there was nothing but the heat, the taste of her lips, the softness of her breasts pressed against his chest. And the intensity that fueled each movement.
He held her close to his body, feeling the shape of her, every inch of her, against him. And then, because it seemed right, because it seemed natural, he raised his other hand and slipped his fingers deep into her thick, wavy hair.
It was like silk, sliding through his fingers, tangling around his hand. He made a fist, trapping the strands in his grasp, holding her to him, keeping her from stopping the kiss. Keeping her from moving away.
This was new. A taste of a woman in a way he’d never before experienced.
Sex, applied in the wrong way, was simply another vice. One he didn’t indulge, one he didn’t even flirt with. Not anymore. Not now.
But this...this was the shot of whiskey he hadn’t had on his wedding day. This was every glass of alcohol, every invitation to a hotel room, every line of cocaine he’d ever refused.
In his life, he’d had every sin laid out before him. And there had been a time when he’d indulged himself in them. But there was a point where he had made the choice to turn away. Not because he was a saint, but because in him lived the darkest of tendencies. To embrace temptation. To drown in excess.
And so he denied it. Because he knew that was the long, dark path to hell, and though he’d started his life on that path, he’d done his damnedest to find a new place to walk.
But for the moment, he was out of restraint. Because of Leah.
She parted her lips and kissed him deeply, his tongue sliding against hers. And because it seemed right, because he wanted to, he nipped her lush bottom lip, soothed away the pain.
The little sound that escaped her wasn’t one of pain but of pleasure, and the encouragement spurred him on. He was consumed with this new craving, to have his fill of her taste, sweeter than candy, twice as tempting.
Dark and sweet.
Holding her tightly, he reversed their positions, put her back against the wall, both of his hands now deep in her hair, holding her to him. Her hands were everywhere. His shoulders, his back, down farther. She pulled him in tightly, his growing erection pressing against her stomach.
He was no detached observer to this kiss. He was drowning in it. Overtaken by it.
Shaking with it.
“Ajax,” she whispered his name, her breath on his cheek.
Leah. He had Leah pressed up against a wall. Leah who had only agreed to marry him to save her business.
Leah, who made his defenses weak.
Leah, his wife. And yes, he would have an intimate relationship with her. At some point. But when he did, it would be on his terms. Not with him shaking like an addict denied his fix.
He pulled away from her, looked at her lips, swollen, red, not from the lipstick anymore, but from his kiss. He wanted to trace her lush lips with his thumb, follow the line with his tongue. Kiss her again.
Instead he dropped his hands to his sides, curled them into fists to disguise the tremor in them.
“That is enough for tonight, I think.” He backed away from her, headed to the stairs.
“You think so?” she asked. “Because I think it was only the start.”
He should give in. He should pull her into his arms, carry her up the stairs, take her to his room and throw her on the bed. Give them both what their bodies wanted now.
