She swallowed, her heart hammering against her ribs. In her entire life, she hadn’t met anybody like Daire Dunne. For so long, she’d been afraid of her siblings, thinking demons were the most dangerous beings on earth. For the first time, she wondered. Was anybody more dangerous than a Coven enforcer? “You don’t scare me,” she barely ground out.
One dark eyebrow lifted. “Then you’re not as smart as I assumed. You’re young, and you’ve been fairly sheltered from the world, Felicity. Watch yourself.” A twisting of his wrist in her hair accompanied the warning. “Any man who’d attempted to drug me would be dead. Any woman I didn’t know would be brought before the Coven Nine and probably seriously burned. And a woman I’ve fucked three ways to Sunday? Well, now. She’d be wincing every time she tried to sit down for the near future.”
The hand tethering her head kept her from moving, so she glared. “Careful, witch.”
“As I was saying, we haven’t properly dealt with the fact that you drugged me and made me chase you across the world and nearly drown.”
She swallowed, her body tensing. “You’re not serious.”
Both eyebrows went up.
She held perfectly still. Her lungs compressed. Though she was trained, and she had power, she’d seen him fight. The man was made for it. “Listen, Enforcer. When I drugged you, I didn’t even know you.” They sure hadn’t been intimate before she’d tricked him. Then she caught herself. What in the heck was she doing, reasoning with him?
“Good point.” He leaned in, his eyes an inch away. “I’ve been inside you now, and you’ve moaned my name, so that changes things.”
“No.” Regret mingled with the desire blazing through her. “I’m sorry.” Because she did see him. No way, no way, would he allow a woman he cared about to fight to the possible death, which was something she had to do. It had to be her. Forget equality, forget feminism, he was an enforcer and a protector. He wouldn’t stand by as somebody he cared about walked into danger, and if they continued to be together, he’d care. Whether he knew it or not, he acted from the heart and not the head. “What we had was one night in a blizzard. That’s all.”
“Prove it.”
“Wh-what?” she breathed.
He closed the small distance between their faces, his breath stirring her lips. “Prove you don’t want me. You don’t want more.”
Her panties dampened. She was at a distinct disadvantage when it came to experience, and she knew it. Her mate had been her first and only, and he’d been more a gentle roll and sweet trust. Although Daire had definitely tried to be gentle, there was nothing sweet about him. He was all fire and storm, and a part of her, a female part she’d denied for so long, wanted to feel the bluster and ride the burn.
His nostrils flared, no doubt scenting her arousal. “Go ahead. Say it.”
Denying the obvious was silly. “You know I want you, but I have a job to do, and if we continue, you’ll just get in the way.”
“I’m in the way now, baby.” His lips took hers.
Sparks exploded in her blood, and her mind blanked. He worked her mouth, bending her back, forcing her sex against his hard cock. Demanding, even through the jeans, it jumped against her.
She couldn’t move. He held her right where he wanted her, their mouths fused, her legs spread, her butt on his hard thighs, her breasts flattened by his chest.
Yes, Yes, Yes. She kissed him back, her hands frantic on his flesh, her body alive.
Warning clanged in the back of her head, and she knew she was making a colossal mistake, but she didn’t care. Right now, in Daire’s arms, she just wanted more. Wanted to feel like a woman, alive and whole. He gave her that. Even so aroused she could barely think, she knew, deep down, that Daire gave her that sense of completeness.
He released her mouth so she could breathe and peppered hard kisses across her jaw and down her throat, tilting her down between his knees and toward the thick rug. She arched against him, the decadence of the position thrilling.