mission defined the very essence of who he was, and what he'd been doing for six hundred years: protecting others. And now, to protect the woman he was meant to be with? It was what he was born to do. You will live, Alice. He tightened his grip on her and lowered his head toward hers. Satisfaction thrummed through him when she raised her face to his, entrusting herself into his protection, exactly how it was supposed to be. I will keep you safe.
Then he took her mouth with his, and offered her life.
Chapter Two
Alice was too panicked about drowning to worry about the fact that Ian's lips were about to be on hers. Her head was spinning, and her lungs were burning so badly she could barely think. All she wanted was air. Oxygen. Life. If Ian's kiss meant she had a chance for all that, then she was all on board. It would be a salvation, not a sensual decadence.
Still fisting the pearl of Lycanth in her left hand, she raised her face to his and accepted his offer.
The moment his lips met hers, everything changed. Unbelievable warmth filled her. A burst of air raced through her, inflating her lungs like a gift from the heavens. His kiss was soft and tender, his lips a seductive caress that seemed to strip away all her defenses and catapult her into a place of safety and well-being. Her muscles shuddered with relief, and her heart seemed to expand in her chest. The agony in her lungs dissipated, and the muscles in her chest released their tight hold. The relief of being able to breathe was incredible. A gift. Somehow, he was filling her lungs with oxygen, or at least making them not need oxygen any more. She didn't understand, and a ripple of unease pricked at her. How are you doing this?
Don't fight me. Ian's voice was a caress in her mind, nothing like the angry orders he'd barked at her before. It wastes oxygen if you fight me. You can make this easy, sweetheart.
Tears filled her eyes at his tenderness, at the gentle coaxing in his voice, at the intoxicating sensation of his kiss. Memories flooded her mind now, images of the time she'd met him before, the last time she'd been with him. She recalled the way he'd kissed her: not a kiss of life-giving tenderness, but a raging possession of heat and lust that had almost torn her apart. How could she have forgotten how he'd stoked all that desire in her, along with all the other emotions she wasn't supposed to be able to have? How he'd made her come alive with a fierce, raging intensity that ripped her from her cocoon of isolation and hurled her ruthlessly into a vortex of passion, fire, and life.
She'd forgotten all that. All of it. Until his kiss. Until his whispered caress. Until this moment.
When she'd first seen him coming toward her in the ocean moments ago, all she'd remembered was that he'd been there when she'd died three times. As he'd reached out for her, he'd seemed to be death incarnated, trying to kill her for the final time. For one terrifying moment, she'd been certain, so certain, that he was death finally coming to claim her...until she'd heard his voice in her mind. Until that rough and tender sound had filled her with a yearning so strong that it had obliterated all fear.
Yes, he whispered as he deepened the kiss, as his tongue flicked against hers, igniting a spark of desire that seemed to simmer through her. Like that. Let me in, Alice.
His reassuring warmth began to flow through her, a heat that chased away the cold of the ocean, the iciness of fear. She became aware of the strength of his body against hers. The steel core of his torso, the unyielding muscles in his arm where he had her locked down, the raw, untamed masculinity pouring off him. The button on the fly of his jeans was rough against her bare stomach.
His lips were soft and hot against hers, moving in a tantalizing rhythm that stripped all resistance from her. His tongue a seductive master, coaxing her response in a decadent invasion that made her want more. His kiss was more than a kiss. It was the offering of life, not just in that moment, but so much more. Her liberation? Her hope? Her future? Or...was he merely the illusion of safety, obscuring a threat