Angel or demon?
She sat astride him, long blond hair flowing around her creamy white shoulders in a veil of silky perfection. She visited his dreams often in recent days, but never often enough. He both desired her visits and dreaded them. Dreaded them, because he knew instinctively she led him to the forbidden. Like the devil in the disguise of a beautiful woman, she lured him to temptation. To a place sure to damn his soul.
With a seductive rhythm, her hips arched into his body, swaying with delicious invitation. Everything about her made him burn. Her smell. Her full bottom lip. Her full breasts as they bounced, nipples peaked with arousal. Begging for his hands. For his eyes.
With each stroke of her wet heat along his body, he yearned to be deeper. To take more of her. To become lost in her until he forgot the burning need threatening to surface. A need, relentless in its demands, threatened his control. A desire to claim her very essence. To go to a place he'd never dared go. But if he did, would he stop there? Or would the beast then take control? Would he be lost to a lust for more than physical satisfaction?
Would he then become one of the soulless fanged monsters—the ones he had come to know as "Darkland Beasts"—who had taken his wife, Caron, and his life, two centuries before? The ones that had destroyed everything he'd called his world, and lurked just beneath his human shield, ready to claim the part of him still a man.
He felt the beast move in him, calling his name, calling for ownership and command. Felt it trying to pull him into darkness beyond human comprehension, pressing him to act on primal instincts.
And there seemed only one answer. One way to resist the beast.
He had to get lost in this woman. To sate his lust with her body, not her life. She held the answer. Though part of him screamed in warning, screamed she was his demise, another part knew her as his salvation. It was always like this with her. Confusing. Conflicted. Better not to think. Just…feel.
Using her hips as leverage, he arched upward, thrusting his body deep, and pulling her hard against his pelvis, trying to get lost in lust. He was far too close to the edge. Too close to the beast. It wanted him, just as he wanted this woman.
He wanted her like he hadn't desired another in a hundred years. Not since his wife. But that had been another life. Another world. Staring at the blond beauty atop him, for just a moment he pictured his Caron, dark hair and dark eyes. For just an instant, he flashed back to a time of the past. So real was that image that he squeezed his eyes shut, confusion raking through his brain.
A soft moan of pleasure escaped her full lips, drawing his gaze again. He watched her lashes flutter, searching her features. Another moan filled the air, pulling him into the present fully again. Arousing and sweet, the sound hummed along the rawness of nerve endings. He struggled against his urges…fighting…resisting.
As a serpent might its prey, she seemed to play on his weaknesses. Yet, with his every attempt to hold back, this woman, this temptress, seemed to draw him out more. It was no use. Desire controlled him now. Release was his only salvation. It was hers, too. Release would stave off the beast.
He thrust into her, but she arched backward, holding him back, not allowing him to become lost in the burn. He had to find release…release would save them both. Without it he would take more than pleasure, without it…He told himself to shove her away. To ignore the erotic feel of her body squeezing his.
But she seemed to sense his resistance. Bending forward, she pressed those lush, full breasts against his chest. Her lips brushed his jaw. His neck. His ear. Teeth scraped his lobe. A rush of heat surged through his veins, and a low growl escaped his lips. His mind clouded. He could only feel. Only need. And what he needed was…to devour her.
The thought screamed with warning. He had to end this now, before it was too late. Before he did something he'd regret. But even as he willed himself to end this craziness, his hand slid around the curve of her perfect, round ass. With a hard thrust, he lifted his hips and pulled her against his cock. At the same time, his other hand found her breast, palming it, pinching the nipple with rough demand. His mouth found hers, and he drank her in, desperate to sate the ravenous hunger only this woman created.
This hunger that reached beyond the pleasure shared between a man and woman.
"Take me," she whispered, pulling back to stare into his eyes. "I already belong to you. You know I do. I know what you want, and I give it freely. Take all of me."
Her words rang in his ears, and his wife flashed in his mind again. He was so confused…so aroused. So…The sight of her elegant, white neck as she shoved aside her hair made her intent clear. She couldn't know what he was, yet her actions, her invitation, said otherwise. And, Lord help him, he wanted to take what she offered. To drink of the sweet liquid that ran through her veins. Only he wouldn't stop there. The taste of her would bring out the beast. And the beast would drain her dry.
"Take me," she said, sitting there on top of him, looking like a goddess. All that creamy white skin against his darker coloring aroused and tempted.