Awaken Me Darkly (Alien Huntress #1)(56)
Author: Gena Showalter

I had to get out of here. Scowling, I jerked at the armband on my forearm. I jerked until my skin was bruised black and blue from the strain. The thick alloy stubbornly remained in place. My bones were stiff, my muscles achy, when I finally allowed my hands to fall to my sides.

“Take this damn thing off me.”

“No,” he said, determined. “Not until you calm down. Not until you realize Atlanna might be your mother, but she is still a monster.”

“Damn you,” I seethed. “I’m leaving now, this moment, and your actions dictate whether I leave in peace or in pain.”

He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Very well, then.” I strode from the office and to the front door. Without a single interruption in my step, I emerged into the afternoon sun.

CHAPTER 19

Pain clawed from my arm to my head and slashed down all the way to my toes. I kept walking. Dizziness mingled with the ache in my head, both nearly felling me. My steps slowed, became agonizing, and I stumbled. But I didn’t stop.

Keep moving. I had to keep moving.

The snow froze my bare feet, the needle-sharp pricks of cold almost unbearable, and the farther away I moved from Kyrin’s home, the sharper my suffering became. Hurt. Hurt so desperately. Anguished screams were lodged in my throat by the time I reached the shade tree in his garden.

Footsteps echoed in my ears, and then suddenly I was propelled toward the ground by a force greater than myself. Strong arms wrapped around me. Kyrin, I realized. He hoped to stop me. I fought against him as he turned me midair, taking the brunt of the impact upon himself when we hit. We rolled several feet.

When we stopped, I sat astride him. I shoved against his chest, but he clasped my arm, and with a wave of his fingers, the armband dropped away.

“You are free,” he ground out. “Free.”

His words penetrated my mind, and I realized then that my pain was already gone, that he’d actually removed my shackle. Shock beat through me, as cold and real as the snow around me. I met Kyrin’s stare, his words echoing through my mind. You are free.

“I—” I stopped. I would not say thank you when he never should have imprisoned me to begin with.

“There is nothing you can do right now that A.I.R. isn’t already doing. You’re upset, and you need me. Just like I need you.”

Yes, I did need him. Just like I needed to forget, if only for a moment. The air sparked between us, tiny pinpoints of white-hot lightning and heat. Heat that was always present between us.

I studied him. His eyes were heavy-lidded, and his teeth were parted on a groan, as if he was in deep pain. His arousal strained between my legs, hard and potent. He didn’t ask my permission, he simply tangled his hands in my hair and jerked my mouth to his. I didn’t protest. No, I thrust my tongue into his mouth and met him stroke for stroke. I savored the sweetness of his taste, like summer rain and carnal desires.

Right then nothing mattered except the feel, the touch, the pleasure of this man. Not my parents. Not the past. Not my job. My fingers tore at the middle of his shirt, ripping the black material down the middle, sending those stubborn buttons flying through the air with a pop.

He rolled me on my back, and the snow made me gasp. So cold. Yet my skin felt so hot. I arched up against him, my legs twining around his. I wanted more. Needed more. I pushed him over, straddled him again, and scraped my nails over the solid wall of his chest. Several ice crystals had melted against the heat of his skin. I licked away every drop.

He moaned. Kissed me. Then tore his mouth away. I growled at the loss. He rolled me over a second time and jumped to his feet, violet fire blazing in his eyes.

“This way,” he said. He scooped me up into his arms.

“Not this way. I want you here. Now. In the daylight. In the snow.” I didn’t want to wait until we reached the inside of his house. I didn’t want him in a soft bed, nice and cozy. I wanted him in a place that matched my desire. Some place untamed. Wild. Wicked.

Some place raw.

“Here,” I said.

“Here,” he agreed. He carried me into a hidden cove shadowed by towering na**d branches. The walls were man-made and warmed to the touch. Hot, just like my blood.

Kyrin eased me to my feet. We stood there, and our eyes met and held. Only a whisper separated us. I reached between our bodies, unfastened his pants, and shoved them down his legs. He kicked out of them and was suddenly naked. Unabashedly aroused. God, he was beautiful. Like a sculpture. Pale and hard, tall and majestic, with dark tattoos scattered across his abdomen. My tongue descended and followed the designs, and his heady flavor, a mix of desire and man, fueled my need.

“What do they mean?” I asked, licking each symbol.

His arms circled my shoulders, and his fingers brushed my neck. “The light shall overpower the darkness.”

“That fits,” I muttered. And it did. My palms slid across his chest. My fingertips circled around his small, puckered ni**les. He was so solid. So rippled with sinew. I had pure, unadulterated power at my fingertips, and I liked it. I liked him.

This man challenged me in a way I’d never been challenged. At times he irritated the hell out of me, and he never bowed to my dictates. Perhaps I was insane, but I admired those qualities in him.

“I have wanted you,” he said, his words intermixed with nipping kisses on my jaw and neck, his breath labored, “since the first moment I saw you.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

He uttered a warm, husky chuckle, then crushed his lips to mine. Arousal pounded through me, frantic for release as his tongue dove into my mouth. His hands tunneled beneath the silky material of my crisscrossed top. And his fingertips traced the edge of my ni**les. I shivered.

Desire pooled between my legs. I was wet. I was ready. Ready for him and only him. I needed the hard, thick length of him inside me. Pounding in and out. Maybe slow at first, but growing in speed.

“See,” I beseeched. “See what you do to me.” Eyes closed in surrender, I guided one of his hands under the froth of my skirt, up my inner thigh and onto the edge of my panties.

“Here?” he muttered huskily, then slipped past the fragile silk barrier.

“There. Right—Yes! There.” Unable to stop myself, I arched into his touch, creating more pressure, more friction. “Do you feel how much I need you?”

“You are liquid fire,” he praised. He dropped to his knees in front of me, keeping one hand on my panties. The other caressed a path under my skirt and up my feet, calves, and thighs. “I want more. So much more.” Reverence dripped from his words.