I broke the kiss with a rough gasp. “Please. Stop.” I was no prude, but this felt wrong and dangerous and a thousand other things.
He slipped a hand around to the small of my back, caressing lightly as he looked down at me, ice-blue eyes echoing the faint smile on his lips. I let out a small moan at the feel of his hand. Maybe I was being silly. He obviously wasn’t going to kill me. It didn’t matter who or what he was. Would it really be so wrong to enjoy a little bit of comfort and pleasure? I deserved it. I needed it.
He lowered his head down to mine again, teasing my mouth open and quickly deepening the kiss. I groaned against the heat of his mouth as he pulled me close against him. I could feel the strength of his form, the smooth muscle of his chest and legs, and I could feel the hardness that pressed into the curve of my belly. Warmth surged through me as I felt the power of the arms that held me. His mouth was hot and sweet, and in the kiss was all the power and strength and dominance that I had seen in his eyes.
His hand slid up to gently fondle my breast, his fingers lightly circling my hard nipple through the thin silk of my shirt. I put my hands on his arms to try to push his hand from my breast, but the muscle beneath the silk of the shirt was hard as iron and soft as velvet. I moaned softly and slid my hands up higher, holding on to his shoulders. The lustrous fall of his hair tumbled over me, and the pleasant, musky smell of him filled my senses.
He broke the kiss gently and nuzzled my throat as I tipped my head back, gasping, trying to gather my scattered wits. He released me slowly, and I clutched at the wall to support my wobbly legs. Smiling, he stepped back and turned away.
I stared at him, confusion and wariness mingling with a healthy dose of horniness. He walked to the fireplace, then turned back to me, looking at me expectantly.
What the fuck just happened? I took a deep breath, feeling as if I needed more oxygen so that I could wake up. “Are—” My voice cracked. I took another deep breath and tried again. “Are you going to kill me?”
Amusement lit those crystal-blue eyes. “Do you wish me to?”
“No!” I replied quickly. I cautiously pushed off the wall and took a wavering step forward. “No, I’d really rather you didn’t.”
His shoulders lifted in an elegant shrug. “Then I will not.” He held his hand out to me. I blinked stupidly at the proffered hand, then looked back up to his beautiful face.
“Come to me, Kara,” he said, voice rich and inviting.
“Why?” I asked, still wary. “What are you going to do?” With him across the room from me, it was easier to think clearly.
He laughed, still holding his hand out to me. “I would like to kiss you again.”
“Why?” I asked again, not moving. It wasn’t a stupid question. I was no raving beauty. I was the one who’d had a grand total of two boyfriends in my entire life, neither of whom had lasted for more than three months.
A look of surprise flickered across his face, then was gone. “Because I enjoyed it,” he responded simply. “Did you not enjoy it as well?”
I slowly walked toward him, brow furrowed. I stopped in front of him but didn’t take the proffered hand. “I did enjoy it. But … I don’t understand.”
He lowered his hand and tilted his head, regarding me. “Must you?”
I opened my mouth to respond, then closed it. A few minutes ago I’d been absolutely certain that I was going to die a hideously painful death. Now this unspeakably powerful and gorgeous creature wanted to kiss me, and I was going to argue the point?
He gave me a dazzling smile and held his hand out again. Damn, but he was seriously hot. Was he so beautiful because he wasn’t human? His gaze met mine, his eyes displaying a power and passion that sent another wave of warmth rushing through me.
I looked away quickly, swallowing hard to regain control of my body. The sudden burn of anger in my belly helped, now that I had an idea of what was happening. “Well … yeah,” I said tightly. “I’m funny that way.” I didn’t know what he was, but I knew that he was seriously fucking powerful, and I was suddenly afraid of something other than a painful death.
“I … would be dishonored,” I said, heart pounding, “if I could not resist an unwanted act because my willingness to resist had been taken from me.”
He was silent for over a dozen heartbeats, while I kept my gaze fixed on the table in front of the fireplace. I hadn’t wanted to phrase it as an accusation, but I wanted to be sure that my meaning was understood. Cold sweat prickled my lower back as I waited for his reaction.
“You may look at me, Kara Gillian,” he said finally, voice low but still somehow managing to fill the basement with throbbing intensity. “I give you my word I will not dishonor you again.”