He ran his big hand up and down her back, used the thick fingers of his other hand to tangle in her hair and slide across her scalp. Tingles ignited everywhere he touched, and heat enveloped her. The same heat she’d felt when he held her before. She knew she should push away, that she was down here, close to hell, because of him, but she couldn’t. His hard, warm body was solid and real. Comforting in a way she didn’t expect and right now didn’t want to question. And his hands…they were like magic. Drawing out her fear one tiny inch at a time.
Insane. They were likely being followed, and at any moment Hades could pop out of the ground and annihilate her. Not to mention the fact that everything she knew about Gryphon screamed nut job. But he didn’t feel like a crazy man to her at the moment. In fact, she was acting more psychotic than he. And the longer he held her, the more she didn’t want him to let go. With her hands pressed against his muscular chest, she closed her eyes, sank in just a touch. Worked to slow her pulse. Tried to find control.
The hand on her spine slipped lower, to the curve of her lower back, to trace tiny circles along the pressure points above her buttocks. It relaxed her, made her limbs feel like jelly. His scent—leather, musk, the slightest hint of citrus—assailed her nostrils, smelled way too damn good. And when his chest brushed the fabric of her thin shirt, her nipples hardened.
Heat spread lower before she could stop it. To her abdomen, cradling his groin. To that space between her legs. Memories of his body, half-naked in the green light, rushed through her mind. She couldn’t help but remember what he’d felt like as she’d straddled his lap. How aroused he’d been then. How hard. How big.
She swallowed. Tried to stop her frantic mind from imagining what he’d look like completely naked. Couldn’t. He’d be thick, dominating, mouth-watering, she bet. Though she didn’t like the desire suddenly rushing through her body, she knew it came from the center of her. From the darkness of the Underworld that resided within her. It was attracted to the vile and wicked and seemed to be drawing her to him, and it, combined with the panic and anxiety she was already feeling, was so strong. She’d always been able to fight the pull before, but this…the way she reacted to him, her kidnapper, for crying out loud…was different. This burned her. Consumed her. Taunted her to take and sample and, for once, let go.
Gods, she wanted to. Suddenly, it was all she could think about. Letting go with him. Being as depraved and selfish as her parents. Acting out every X-rated fantasy she’d ever had over the long, lonely, pathetically empty years of her life.
A moan slipped from her lips before she even realized she’d made a noise. Against her stomach, his erection swelled and hardened just as it had done before. Only this time she wasn’t scared. She felt energized. Excited. Alive. And when she sucked in a breath and held it, his hand paused just above the cleft of her ass.
What would he do if she touched him? If she slid her hand down his rock-hard abs and brushed her fingers over his cock? If she gripped him there? If she stroked his shaft?
A thousand fantasies played through her mind, each more wicked and erotic than the last. And though she knew this wasn’t the time, that he wasn’t anywhere near the male she should be reacting to, she couldn’t stop her body from wanting. From craving. From needing. Too many years of self-denial were coalescing to loose her shaky hold on control. And that darkness inside—the darkness that was drawn to him—was winning where common sense was supposed to prevail.
“Um…Maelea…”
His voice, dark, raspy, so damn sexy, slid over her skin with his breath, bringing to life places inside she hadn’t known were dead. She closed her eyes, moved into him, and knew she was about to lose the battle.
Chapter Six
Gryphon went still as stone, unsure what to say or do.
The voice that had been taunting him again as he’d searched for a way out was suddenly gone. Replaced by only that low buzz, the one that was irritating as hell but manageable. And oh, gods, right now he didn’t even mind the buzz, because Maelea’s hot body was pressing into his, lighting up his groin, distracting him from everything but her.
Skata, he didn’t dare move, because then it’d be painfully obvious he had a hard-on the size of Mount Etna—not that she couldn’t already feel that damn thing pushing into her stomach—but he also knew if he moved right now, the friction against his dick might just be too much. He swallowed hard. Tried like hell to fight the need. But only one thought prevailed.
Bloody hell, he wanted her. Any way he could get her. Wanted to shove her up against the rock wall at her back and ravage every inch of her body until she screamed. Then he wanted to do it all over again.
Fantasies swam in his head. Followed by the harsh slap of reality.