Had Uza really said that? Really?
“Pick a table.” His voice was just over a whisper—more like a growl.
With one sentence, he had bypassed any need for foreplay. She’d been picturing his “plan” ever since he’d whispered it in her ear.
“We still need to talk,” she said so unconvincingly she didn’t even believe it herself. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about his bossy, caveman ways.
“And we will. Later. Suffice it to say for now, I need you, and I want you, and the time I spent away from you was painful. I don’t want to be parted again, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep that from happening.”
“Shouldn’t we be preparing for battle or something?”
He ran a hand though his hair. “We don’t know what’s coming. We have no way to prevent it or prepare. Zana told us we have a twenty-four-hour pass before something happens, and as much as I’d like it to, this won’t take that long. Now, while Zana’s spell is still in place, pick a table.”
Stefan had been right. This man was the thing that had been missing, and clearly, he felt the same way. Right now, her immortal body was screaming for them to do something with their mouths other than talk.
Her eyes shot to the small, round, pedestal breakfast table where he had just laid his sword.
He chuckled and shook his head. “Closest, certainly, but too fragile.”
No. Not fragile. Not for this round. Trying not to appear overly eager, she picked up her glass of champagne and took a sip. Nik lowered the blinds over the sink and locked the door.
“Take off your clothes,” he said.
Ah, back to bossy. Well, that was okay to a point. She picked up his champagne glass and handed it to him. He reached for her, but she backed away, grinning. She took another sip of her own drink and set it on the counter.
They were equals now. No more leash. No fear. Twenty-four hours of each other. Power surged through her, and she reveled in the hum and buzz and heat filling her from head to toe. He needed her. Longing was written all over his face. He would do whatever she wanted. And she wanted him to do everything.
The blouse skimmed across her skin like a whisper when she pulled it over her head. Nik took a sip of champagne. Slowly, so very slowly, she loosened the tie on the shorts he had masterfully untied earlier, but she didn’t slide the shorts off. Instead, she took another sip of champagne and met his eyes directly. She didn’t lower her gaze from his, which became more heated as she pushed the shorts over her hips and let them slide down her legs to the floor.
After stepping out of the shorts, she walked to the table to pour herself a bit more champagne, then topped his glass off as well. This time, he made no move to touch her. He simply smiled and clinked his glass to hers. “To the Uniter,” he said. “And Stefan Darvaak’s taste in lingerie.”
When she’d first slipped on the sheer, pearl white lace bra and panties, she’d been slightly uncomfortable, but was glad of it now. She wasn’t used to skimpy underwear, but could certainly appreciate its appeal. She felt sexy and powerful, and obviously, it appealed to Nik, who was rubbing his hand over the bulge in the front of his pants, smiling like a starving man at a feast.
She loved it when he touched himself. His unabashed sexuality was painfully appealing. And so was his plan. She strolled into the living room in search of the perfect table. The room was fairly dark due to the closed curtains and no lights being on. She flipped on a lamp. This time when he touched her, she wanted to see him. No more darkness or being cold. No cord or fear.
He had paused in the doorway to watch her. Reveling in her power, she ran her fingers over the sofa end table, pretending to consider it. She put some weight on it and jiggled it. “Mmm. Nah. I want something…bigger.”
The low rumble of his chuckle made it hard to breathe. She paused and collected herself, then moved to the coffee table. She met his heated gaze and shook her head. “Too low. I don’t want you on your knees…yet.”
Nik groaned, took a sip of champagne, then, to her absolute surprise, dropped to his knees. “I’m already there.”
She strode to where he kneeled in the doorway and stopped right in front of him, then handed him her glass. “Don’t spill.” He grinned and held both glasses out to the side.
With deliberate slowness, she unlatched the clasp between her breasts but made no move to take the bra off. Nik groaned as she stood within inches of him, breasts at his eye level. He blew on her nipple though the lace, and her breath hitched. Her skin was so sensitive even his breath across it set her on fire. Through the thin fabric, he caught her taut skin in his teeth and ran his tongue over the tip of her nipple, causing her knees to almost buckle.