She lifted her legs so that they wrapped around his waist. When he was fully seated, he bent and kissed her passionately.
Darcy was floating on a cloud of pure passion. Everywhere he touched, Warrick was leaving a mark on her, forever changing her. She could feel it through her skin and muscle, through bone and into her soul.
It was as if he was altering her. And she welcomed it.
He pulled out of her and thrust. In and out he moved, fiercely, powerfully. Each time he went deeper, plunged harder.
Soon sweat moistened their skin, allowing their bodies to glide against each other smoothly. Darcy tightened her legs, urging him onward.
His hips jerked as he moved faster. Their breaths were ragged, their bodies in a rhythm as old as time. Her fingers gripped him as desire tightened low in her belly. Then he buried himself deep and stilled.
To Darcy’s surprise, another orgasm swept her along with Warrick. It was just as powerful as the first, pulling her into a whirlwind of passion, pleasure, and … everything Warrick.
It seemed like hours later when she was finally able to open her eyes. She found Warrick staring down at her with a look of awe that made her stomach clench and her lips tilt in a smile. He pulled out of her and lifted her in his arms until he had them situated on the floor. Darcy snuggled against him, using his chest as a pillow.
Sex with Warrick was sublime. No one had taken her to such heights before, and she was certain no one but Warrick ever would again.
Her life was in shambles, but she had something solid and real to hold onto.
She had Warrick.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
Warrick’s world had been turned upside down by the soft touch and passionate kisses of one obstinate, beautiful mortal.
He stared at the ceiling, going over every moment of their lovemaking. The violent, uncontrollable need to claim her had pushed him as nothing else ever had. He almost regretted taking her so fast.
Almost.
A smile pulled at his lips as he remembered the fire in her fern green eyes. Her nails had scoured his skin, her legs had clamped tight even as she urged him faster with her heels.
Her abandon, her unabashed need only drove him wild with longing. When it came to Darcy, the control Warrick always seemed to readily have evaporated. He was feral, untamed. Brutish.
And she reveled in it.
She didn’t care when he said awkward things. Warrick frowned as he realized he’d carried conversations with her more than he ever had with anyone else in such a short period of time.
Her beauty might have first snagged his attention, but her sharp mind—and even sharper tongue—kept him on his toes and thoroughly engaged. She was as tempestuous as a stormy sea, and he wasn’t always sure how to navigate the waters. But he wanted to learn.
Warrick felt her breath tickle his chest as she let out a sigh in her sleep. He wasn’t a fool. There had been too many Kings who had found mates lately for him to not consider Darcy was more than a quick tumble.
There was just one hitch.
Warrick didn’t want a mate. He didn’t want the worry, fear, or nervousness of having a woman mated to him. Regardless that she would be immortal, the simple fact was that she could die if he was killed. The war they were in was enough to bring that realization home.
Not to mention, he saw how Kellan, Rhys, and the other mated Kings reacted when a threat came to Dreagan. It was natural for a King to protect. Add in the element of a mate, and things went haywire.
Even if he did take a mate, she wouldn’t be safe from the Dark. The Kings might have spelled themselves never to feel any love for a human all these centuries, which is the only reason the Dark hadn’t taken a mate from a King. However, it was just a matter of time before they tried it.
The wild idea of claiming Darcy as his mate to save her from the Dark halted instantly at that insight. The Dark wanted Darcy dead. Though he wished to know who’d sent the order for her death, Warrick was more concerned with keeping her alive.
The Dark’s attack earlier proved that they were more than willing to let their war spill over into the human world.
Warrick opened the telepathic link and called Con’s name. It didn’t take the King of Kings long to answer.
“Do you have information on Ulrik?” Con asked.
Warrick was surprised at the burst of anger that he felt. Was it the battle with the Dark? Was it having Darcy in his arms and her taste on his tongue? “In case you wanted to know, Darcy is still alive.”
“I didna have any doubts. What information have you gleaned?”
“None.”
There was a long stretch of silence. Then Con said, “None? Why?”
“Perhaps because we’ve been battling the Dark all day.”
“You’ve never been one to talk a lot, Warrick, but apparently you have something to say. So out with it.”
Warrick held Darcy tighter as she slept. “There is more than Ulrik in this battle, Con. Keep that in mind.”