She yanked the zipper open, shoved both her pants and underwear down and off, needing to get naked as fast as possible. This was no seductive striptease, but a race to see how quickly she could get the job done.
And he did the same. In seconds, they were both bare.
Panting, more from anticipation than exertion, she stared.
I was right.
His bottom half was even better than the top, if that was even possible. His penis jutted out, firm and full, and in scale with his large size.
She gave a little hum of pleasure. Her mouth watered at the thought of getting her hands and, well, her mouth on him.
Forcing herself to look away from his erection, she took in the rest of him.
Two short swords had been inked on his thick thighs. A set of karambits graced his lower stomach; the curved claw-like blades had circular openings in the handles, which allowed the user great mobility and versatility when wielding it.
The man was a visual record of the most dangerous edged weapons available. It was sexy as hell.
His dark gaze ran over her from head to foot and then up again. She curled her toes on the cool tile and forced herself not to fidget under his inspection.
She was in good shape, her muscles toned and sleek. Fighting demons did that to a girl.
Her breasts weren’t overly large or small. Average was the best way to describe them. She’d never worried about it one way or another and wasn’t about to start now.
She caught a whiff of sweat and blood. Demon, too. Damn, she smelled funky. Not that it had stopped either of them.
Maccus offered her his hand. It was large with long blunt fingers, capable of meting out violence and pain but also of giving intense pleasure.
She took it. It was an odd sensation to see her much smaller, paler hand in his bigger tanned one. It all but swallowed hers when he closed his fingers and tugged her toward the stall.
Shower sex worked for her.
He pushed several buttons, and the water flowed from the large overhead rain shower. She lifted her face to the warm spray, letting it cascade over her.
Maccus made a low sound that might have been pleasure or pain. When she opened her eyes, his dark gaze was locked on to her.
He was the hunter, and she was his prey. And she was more than ready to be caught.
He dragged her toward him and kissed her. She tangled her fingers in his hair, yanked his head down, and returned the frantic caress. Their tongues dueled; their breath mingled. She couldn’t get enough.
More. More. More.
He was better than dark chocolate, red wine, and salty chips.
He spun her around and shoved her against the shower wall. She arched away from the cool tiles, wanting only the heat.
She rubbed her breasts over his muscular chest. “Oh, yeah,” she groaned. Her nipples were like little spikes and hurt.
Done waiting, she grabbed his shoulders and lifted, twining her legs around him, rubbing her core against his hard cock.
The water gently pummeled them, creating a warm haven.
“Fuck me, now,” she demanded, ready to throw him down to the floor if he didn’t get busy.
He gripped her hips, bruising her skin as he lifted her higher.
Finally. Thank Hell.
Chapter Five
If it were possible for him to get drunk, then kissing Morrigan would have left him reeling. She not only met his passion but demanded more.
He hungered for her. Like a treat long denied, he wanted to gorge on her until he was sated. But he feared that day might never come.
What was she thinking? And why did he care? Her attention had drifted several times. She fought her own demons. They both did.