He could still feel her rage at him, but her desire felt even stronger.
Possibly as strong as the need he was feeling for her.
Christ, he was consumed with it. Consumed with the taste of her kiss, the feel of her hands clutching him as their mouths met and tongues tangled in raw demand.
Selene was a volatile adversary, no doubt about that. But she was also a woman. One who burned like an inferno against him.
He cursed himself for feeling this need for Selene. He was no stranger to lust or the pleasures of beautiful women, yet feeling Selene in his arms was a revelation.
Fuck. Of all people, she was the woman he had to have?
There was no ice in her now, and her heated response to his kiss was almost enough to make him forget the reason he was there in the first place.
His mission for Jordana, the Order, and the welfare of the world itself depended on securing Selene’s crystal.
Darion didn’t want to be Selene’s enemy; he meant that. But there was no way in hell they could be lovers while she was holding Jordana against her will and was one temper spike away from ashing Darion with her Atlantean light.
Strong logic to be sure, but damn hard to hold on to when every cell in his body was on fire and hungry for her.
Soft curves crushed against him. Her kiss was equal parts soft and demanding, a heady combination that only made him impatient to know how it would feel to be inside her.
His fangs surged against her questing tongue. His pulse was a hammer beating in his veins, sending licks of flames into every nerve ending. His cock strained against the Atlantean clothing he wore, a flimsy barrier between his rampant need and the woman driving him to the brink of madness simply with her kiss.
He cupped her breast over the bodice of her wispy silk gown, groaning at the feel of her taut nipple that hardened to a pebble beneath his caress. She moaned at his touch, then sucked in a shuddery breath when he ground his stiff erection against her abdomen.
Darion’s warrior mind was desperate to reel him back to the reason he’d come to Selene’s realm--to get the crystal, no matter what it takes.
Even if he had to seduce it away from her.
He hadn’t ruled that out when he left D.C. with the Order’s titanium box in his hands. But that wasn’t what this kiss was about. No matter how he wished he could deny it, what he was feeling was real.
Unless Selene was a diabolical liar, she was caught up in the same overwhelming desire for him.
He broke their kiss only to trail his mouth along the delicate curve of her jaw line. Her head dropped back on a sigh, exposing the creamy column of her neck.
Ah, fuck.
A darker hunger bloomed inside him, despite the fact that he had taken more than enough nourishment from the briny old fisherman.
Darion’s gaze rooted on the throb of Selene’s carotid. A low growl rumbled in the back of his throat as he struggled to get a grip on the galloping pound of his heart. His breath sawed out of him, ragged with warning.
Selene froze. Her wild gaze shot to his in stark alarm.
And at that same moment came the urgent pound of booted footfalls approaching in the hallway outside the closed chamber door.
Selene broke away, shoving Darion back with a stricken look on her face.
Her guards pounded on the door. “Your Grace, the prisoner is on the loose.”
“He’s in here,” she shouted, her voice huskier than normal.
At the same time, she bound him with a sudden stream of light that Darion didn’t even try to fight. He doubted the half-dozen guards who burst into the room could hold him back if he truly meant to have her, but Selene’s bonds held fast.
Several of the armed Atlanteans surrounded him while the rest formed a wall between Darion and their shaken queen.
“It took you long enough to get here,” she told them tersely, refusing to look at him now. “Take him back to the tower.”
Darion wondered if the guards were blind to the fact that she was breathless and red-cheeked, and he was seething with obvious lust and something even more dangerous to her wellbeing.
