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.”
I wanted to sag in relief but instead cautiously slid my gaze back to him. He stood with his hands clasped behind him, regarding me with those ancient and power-filled eyes. “I will not dishonor you,” he repeated. “But I would give you what you crave.” Once again he held out his hand.
My throat tightened as I looked at his hand. He knew. Whatever he was, he knew how bitterly lonely I was, how much I just wanted to be touched.
I flushed and looked away, embarrassed and dismayed that he’d so clearly seen this weakness in me. “I’m fine,” I insisted, voice a bit louder than it probably needed to be.
“You are a summoner of demons. You are isolated among your own kind because of your power. I have seen it a thousand times over. There is no shame in that.”
I scowled, still not looking at him. He stepped closer to me and laid a hand alongside my face. “I dishonored you by seeking to compel you for the sake of my own pleasure. I would atone for that if you would allow me.”
I turned my head and met his eyes again. “Atone how?” I said with asperity. “By sleeping with me anyway?”
His thumb stroked my cheek. “By giving you what you will not find elsewhere. Comfort without secrets, without hiding. Release from the fear that has locked you away from seeking out companionship. You have been hurt, but you are safe with me, Kara Gillian,” he said, potent voice oddly gentle. “I give you my word that I will not hurt you or compel you.”
For a brief instant I wanted to laugh. How crazy was it that the “safest” way for me to get laid would be with an insanely powerful arcane creature that I’d summoned by mistake? But he’s offering me more than just “getting laid.” He understands. Where else am I ever going to find that?
I slid my hand into his grasp. He pulled me close and I went without resisting, feeling somehow relieved.
“So beautiful,” he murmured as he bent to kiss me again.
Who does he think he’s kidding? The thought flashed through my mind with a distant ache, and I almost pulled away. Dark memory flared again—the horrible month after my father’s death, no longer suppressed beneath the compulsion of this arcane creature. I shivered in his arms, suddenly gripped in the hideous recall of the times I’d been pushed against the wall by the seventeen-year-old son of my foster parents. The whimpering horror as he’d thrust his hands beneath my shirt and into my pants, groping roughly and stealing from me the idea that a man’s touch could bring comfort and pleasure.
The clumsy and awkward attentions of my boyfriends had done little to dispel that. But this … this was different. His hands were warm and strong on my back, and the kiss was gentle and deep and hot all at the same time. His touch eased me, silently coaxing me to calm and granting me enticing glimpses of what an attentive and skilled lover could give. I relaxed into him, feeling the warm rush of pleasure once again as I moaned softly into the kiss. It was real this time and a thousand times better.
He broke the kiss, pulling away only far enough to slip his shirt off and cast it aside. He looked down at me, and after a brief hesitation I unbuttoned my own shirt and let it slide from my shoulders. He smiled, gaze traveling over my body as an oddly shy gratification swirled through me. His hand came up to my breast, fingers lightly encircling my nipple, and I shivered as I felt it harden against his touch. He slowly slipped his hand down to the waist of my silk pants, a line of gooseflesh springing up on my skin, following the trail of his fingers. His mouth found mine again and I leaned into the kiss with a low groan, unresisting.
He pulled me down to the thick carpet in front of the fireplace, still kissing me. His hair tumbled over me and I twined a hand in the silken mass, silently relishing the exquisite texture of it. His arms encircled me, holding me close as he shifted his hips into mine. I shuddered and threw my head back, grinding against him. I’d never felt anything like this—never had anyone shown this much passion, this much desire for me. He was showing me a world I’d given up on, giving me back what had been stolen from me.
He shifted, placing me on my back, gently parting my knees and moving between them. He kissed me deeply, his mouth strong and sensuous, then his lips moved down to kiss my throat. His tongue caressed gently over my neck, gliding further down to eventually circle my erect nipple.
I made a sound of pleasure as he caught the nipple between his lips, then between his teeth. He bit lightly and teasingly and I twined both hands into his hair, arching up into his mouth. His hand came up to fondle my other nipple, then he slowly kissed his way down my belly, fingers still lightly squeezing the captured nipple.
I sucked my breath through my teeth, shivering at the wealth of sensations. His lips traveled over the laces of my pants, tugging, then he went lower and pressed his mouth against me, biting lightly as he rolled my nipple between his fingers. I cried out, gripping his head in my hands and pressing my hips upward.