she could focus on.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“The same thing you want me to do.”
“I never said I wanted you to—”
She closed the gap he’d created before she could stop herself, pressed her body along his and her lips to the soft skin of his throat.
“ Skata , female. I’m starting to think you’re the one who has brain damage.”
“Possibly. Is that a problem for you?” She kissed the pulse of his throat, found another, more delectable spot to taste and sample. Waited for him to drag her closer. Waited for a hint of that heat she’d seen earlier in his eyes.
When he didn’t, she decided to pull out all the stops. “What’s wrong, daemon? Am I too much for you to handle? Maybe the creature you were chasing is more to your taste? I bet you prefer your women docile, don’t you?”
For a split second she thought he was going to pull away, but then a growl echoed low in his throat. His hands slid through her hair. He tipped her head to kiss her. But there were just enough synapses firing in her brain to remind her kissing was a no-go, and she jerked her head to the side, offering her neck instead.
He hesitated the briefest of seconds, as if caught off guard. “I like my women to scream.” Then he pressed his body into hers along the wall. “Is this was you want, Skyla? Me to make you scream?”
Before she could answer, he nipped into her neck, sucked the skin, and worked his leg between both of hers until she felt the length of his erection pressing against her hip. And the way he said her name…
Yes. Gods, yes.
She moaned at the feel of him, at his lips on her throat sending shock waves of pleasure straight to her core. Her fingers tightened in the fabric of his shirt. She lifted her leg around his hip, ground herself against him. Pulled him even closer.
Danger excited her. Why else would she be reacting this way? Though the markings of the Eternal Guardians covered his arms, logic told her this daemon was no hero. He was prey. Someone cursed by the gods for reasons she didn’t understand and wasn’t supposed to know. And yet here she was. Rubbing against him in this crappy apartment hallway like a sex-crazed nymph. Desperate for more. Aching for something only he could give her.
On some level she knew she should stop…but that level was disappearing in the background, moving right out of her grasp. And as long as she didn’t get emotionally involved, why couldn’t she do this? She could complete her mission and enjoy it at the same time. And gods, it had been so long since she’d enjoyed anything. She deserved a few moments of release.
“More.” She moved against him, dragged his head to the other side of her throat. Her hands slid down his muscular chest to grasp the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head. He broke contact long enough for her to toss the shirt to the floor. Across his face, the same need she felt reflected back at her.
His broad chest, covered with a sprinkling of dark hair, rose and fell with his labored breaths. He shoved his hands up under her shirt until it landed against the floor next to his, and his warm, strong fingers brushed her nipples. “What is this?”
“Breasts.” She leaned closer, found his earlobe again. Gods, he tasted so damn good. Smelled even better. And that rod of steel rubbing between her legs was nice, but not nearly close enough. She wanted it closer. Wanted him deep.
“I know what these are,” he mumbled, palming her breasts as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, levered herself higher to rub against him right where she wanted him most. “I meant this . What’s happening here? What the hell is it?”
“Let’s not overanalyze.” She just wanted to feel. To give herself over to the sensations rocking her world right out from under her. She’d worry about her mission later. “Take off my bra already.”
The clasp popped with a snap, and the lace slid down her arms. She wriggled out of it and reached