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262 pages, Kindle Edition
First published August 27, 2013
“Come,” he snarled into her neck, fingers sliding, thumb flying. “Come all over me, bebe.”
The string inside snapped, waves of molten heat rolling in on her as she shuddered beneath him. Her throat closed around damning words of love and adoration, even as every inch of her body rejoiced in the certain knowledge that yes, she was his. Yes, yes, yes and more yes, because her toes curled and her heart beat madly against her ribs and she wanted to feel this way –with him and only him– every single day for the rest of her life.
His gaze drawn unwillingly back to the unknown, dark-haired girl standing alone across the room, he frowned to feel a faint heat at his nape, wispy tendrils creeping down his spine to curl and solidify into an…an awareness, of sorts, low in his belly. It was a thoroughly uncomfortable sensation, foreign and unwelcome, and the longer he studied her, the less he was able to ignore it.
He wanted to bite her. Something about her skin, her scent, the way she subtly shifted toward him, had him longing to take a bite out of Claudia Pascale.
She wanted to escape her parents’ household. What was happening to her there?
No, he wouldn’t ponder it now. Now was for the rising bubble of lust traveling from his heavy groin to tingle up his spine until it burst at his nape, making his vision blur and his ears ring.
Kissing a woman was nothing like kissing a man. A woman eliciting a breathy moan reduced him to a pile of ash. A woman dancing her tongue past his lips turned him hard as stone. A woman straining forward, her arms bound on either side of her body, her throat taut beneath his fingertips as she tried to get closer, closer to him, as though determined to crawl inside his soul…it drove him to the precipice of insanity, and he teetered on the edge as he gripped her to him.
She was a feast for a starving man, and Gaspard had lived too long in famine.
As if the devil possessed his tongue, he found himself asking, “Is there nothing about her you find appealing?”
Sabien sighed, scratching along his jaw where his night beard was just starting to shadow the skin. “I suppose…if she didn’t talk, bedding her might not be such a hardship.”
Gaspard’s back teeth clenched. “If they can talk, you’re doing it wrong. A universal law of fucking.”
His eyes told her that he wanted to eat her for breakfast, have her for tea, and
gorge himself on her for dessert.
But she didn’t want him talking—she wanted him licking. Tasting. Feasting upon her. Frantic to have his mouth on her, Claudia disobeyed and reached for him, clutching at his silky hair. “More,” she moaned, whipping her hips into the thrust of his finger. She was close, so close, and he had to know it. Had to feel how the first tremors were beginning to shake her, starting from the base of her spine and clawing through her heavy, heavy limbs. “P-please.”
This man, with his lies and his secrets and the hungry way he looked at her, touched her...this man put a song in her blood, answering some yearning call buried in the deepest recesses of her terrified heart.
The power in the room shifted suddenly, a palpable tug on the very center of her being. No more predator, no more prey. No longer did he hunt her. In this moment, he belonged to her, and Claudia—empty, yearning, desperate Claudia—fully embraced that rabid starvation living in her soul.
She needed him to feed her desperate hunger, to give her something tangible on which her aching soul could feast, and she loved him.