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The question sits on the tip of my tongue. Why do you think I’m Sara Wren? I’m about to ask when he shifts his body towards me. All sense seems to elude me as he invades my awareness. I wonder if he thinks of me the way I thought of him—a fortifying heat threatening to set me aflame. I haven’t processed the feelings I had around him and I don’t think I’ll have the time given the conundrums. Gingerly, I lean toward him, but he pulls back, leaving me cold.

“You should get some rest. You were under the water for a while,” he says, the flex of his muscles showing restraint.

It’s now or never.

What would he taste like? Would I drink in the metallic taste of his copper eyes or the tartness of his berry lips? Would his razor teeth sink into the soft curves of my neck? Would his lips trace the sharp bones of my spine? I could imagine his rough hands dancing across my skin. Flesh against flesh, hands laced together, my legs locked around his waist—him, buried deep in the wet, warmth of me. What would our bodies look like moving in sync? My heart pounds in my chest.

Can he feel the tension radiating off of me? It’s kinetic, and I’m ready to combust. Fuck. I keep the sheets tucked around me as I approach him. While he was talking, he made his way to the fireplace, leaning a hand against the mantle. The firelight frames him like a man studying his next moves for war. His jaw clenches as he studies me with a sidelong stare, keeping one hand on the towel.

“So, I can’t swim, I take it ?” The soft sheets trail delicately around my legs as I move to stand before him, amusement dancing in my eyes. He chuckles though it’s strained. I want to reach for his arm but I refrain for a moment. I’ve never felt an ounce of anxiety around Christian, even for a man that had been following me around for weeks. Could my memory loss could be causing this sense of attraction? It doesn’t make sense though. Does loss of memory erase the human nature of recognizing beauty? Because Christian is a man who is beauty beholden by the gods into a human body. There’s a pressing urge to run my fingers through his bronze locks and trail my way down his shoulders and over the grooves and ridges of his statuesque physique.

“I will always be your shield even if you don’t need me to, little bird.” His dark, low voice sends goosebumps skating along my arms.

My eyes flicker to his, then land on the tattoo above his heart. I’m scared to ask what it means.

“I have some clothing that might fit you,” he says as he straightens then gently pulls me to him.

Fire roars behind us, sparks flying and landing at our feet. I don’t want any clothing right now. The space between us feels warmer than a thousand suns. My skin sizzles with his nearness.

He gently cups my neck with his strong hands, placing a thumb to the vein there. “Your pulse is racing.”

“So what?” I challenge him, giving him a mock haughty stare.

“There’s my girl, thought you were getting soft for a second.” He flashes his razor teeth.

“What happens if I want to be both,” I say softly as I move closer, ever so slightly until I can only feel the electric sensation that exists in the space between our lips. I want him. I want him inside me, feeling every inch of me. To fill me to the brink, until I didn’t have to think about all the pieces I’ve lost. I want to know something other than this darkness in my mind. But something tells me that Christian Valen wouldn’t like that very much. No, he wants me to be independent, otherwise, everything that has been happening to me right now, all the little hints and the chase he could be doing himself, he’s including me in it. And that makes the man before me all the more attractive.

I lick my lips as I glance at the towel in his hand. He tracks my gaze hungrily.

“Are you sure?” he asks, tipping my chin upward to meet his eyes. That’s what I was beginning to like about Christian Valen, the seamless way he navigates my thoughts without actually being in my mind. He could read me well, without much effort, and it’s terrifying. That, and I can feel the pressure of trying to be someone slough off my shoulders, and allowing me to be me—empty, hollow human and all. I nod, allowing him the control. I want him to take control. I want to relinquish the effort it takes to just exist right now.

The feeling of being here with him after what happened earlier, makes me realize that while the past doesn’t exist right now, there’s a present that could haunt me if I don’t live in the moment.

Christian reaches for the sheets wrapped around me, trepidant as he slowly allows it to fall. He peruses my body like a man starved, drinking in my tall slender curves, before returning his gaze to mine.

I didn’t think it possible that his eyes could be any darker, but they are, filled to the brim with passion, ready to devour me. A muscle in his jaw twitches. My breath hitches as he extends a finger and gently rests it in the middle of my chest. Dark lashes flutter as he closes his eyes, tilting his head skyward. He begins tracing along my collarbone, pausing over my heart, splaying his palm right above the peak of my nipples then along the curve of my neck to my lips, running his thumb across. The feeling excites a deeper fire within my core and it takes every ounce of control to remain still as he studies my body.

“I never want to forget the feeling of you.” His voice shudders, sending shivers across my body.

Reaching across the space, impulsivity racing along my spine, I attempt to grip the folded knot of his towel but a strong arm stops me. “Not yet. I’m going to show you what it’s like to feel totally and completely owned. This way you’ll never forget about me again.”

Never forget about him again.

Opening his eyes, he leans closer and if possible, his eyes are darker than before. Molten copper shimmering with need. He leans down and plants a soft kiss on my right shoulder, then raises his head to give me a devilish grin.

“You’re uncouth,” I say returning an equally as wolfish grin. I’m all ravenous teeth and soft-tongued waiting for him. What I want to say is devour me, forget this pretense. Make me forget about all that is crumbling around us.

“Fine,” he growls. “I’ve made you wait too long.” Christian drops his towel, revealing a bulging length that’s already hard and glistening at the tip with pre-cum. My mouth parts and I take a step back, admiring the masculinity of his body.

Standing before the hearth, flames frame the large silhouette of a man who carries danger like a silent current. How would he unravel an already empty soul? Would he fill me deeply with his?

Christian stares at me expectantly, waiting for my reaction. Knowing exactly what my soul craves, I take the quick step towards him as he does the same. We collide in the middle, a sudden burst of breath expelled between us, two strong wills fall apart on impact. He grips the back of my head, and I tangle my fingers in his hair. Unlike our rapacious gluttony for one another, our kiss is soft. He tastes sweet unlike his demeanor. Rough hands grip my waist tightly and tugs me into him. His hard length slides between my thigh gap, throbbing insistently. The wetness of my arousal pools between my legs and his shaft.

I break from our kiss to drink him in. He’s achingly handsome. Unconventional in a way that makes my heart skip a few beats. He’s crafted for me. All serious set eyebrows and kind eyes, coupled with these soft berry lips.

“Like what you see?” Even his voice sends a shooting sensation along my spine. My gaze meets his and he nods his head downward. When I peek between us, his dick is glistening with my liquid heat, highlighted by the warm glow of the fire.

“You look good there,” I rasp. I have to encircle my hands around his shoulders for strength. My legs are weak, shaking with anticipation.