Heir to a Dark Inheritance - By Maisey Yates Page 0,31

time, the fire that was blazing in his eyes ignited her soul. She had always planned, always worried. Had always held life close to her chest like the precious gift that it was. And she had gotten so much pain, so many carefully laid plans utterly destroyed. What would it be like to be covered in a layer of armor as thick as Alik’s? Would things roll off? Would life feel easier? She imagined that it might. Things had been so hard for so long she could hardly imagine what it might be like to have it just be simple for a while.

Alik’s life certainly wasn’t easy—it wasn’t even terribly happy and yet he seemed so much more at ease with all of it.

“Failing that,” he said, his voice getting rougher, deeper, causing everything in her to respond to it, “I could always try and make you feel more married to me.”

He took a step toward her and she knew what was going to happen. She also knew that she should tell him to stop. That she should be good and sensible. That she should ignore the rapid beat of her pulse, and the tightening in her stomach. That she should embrace logical thought, and reason.

But she didn’t. She just stood and watched him advance, her throat dry, her breath coming in harsh, shallow bursts.

Why wasn’t she running? Why wasn’t she telling him no?

Because I don’t want to.

He hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her up against his body. Water from his bare skin soaked through her cotton top, the chill making her nipples tighten. She wasn’t wearing a bra because she’d been dressed for bed and now she was unbearably conscious of the fact and, heaven help her, grateful.

He cupped her chin with his thumb and forefinger, forced her to meet his gaze, and a flame burst to life inside of her. She wanted, so much it was painful, the need hot, raging, threatening to destroy everything if it wasn’t met.

The tip of his thumb touched her lips, and she opened her mouth, tasted the salt on his skin from the water drops. She sucked on him, gently, and a rough growl came from deep in his chest. He tightened his hold on her and pulled her in tight, and in one fluid motion, he dipped his head and started kissing her.

Deep, sensuous, his tongue sliding against hers, tracing the line of her lips, before delving deep again. She’d never been kissed like this. So hard, so desperate. She didn’t know where the hunger had come from. And then she had to wonder if it was coming from her.

This kiss was different because she had never wanted like this. Had never craved a man in quite this way.

She flattened her palms on his chest, his skin slick, hair roughened and hot beneath her hands. And she could feel his heart, throbbing fast and hard, proof that he felt it, too. That he felt the intensity like she did.

He lowered his hand and palmed her butt, drawing her in closer, bringing the V at the apex of her thighs into contact with the hard evidence of his desire. She moved her hands off his chest and looped them around his neck, forking her fingers through his hair, holding him tight.

His hand slid upward and then down the waistband of her sweatpants, beneath her underwear. She gasped when his callused palm cupped her skin, and she sighed when he squeezed her tight, amping up the tension, her need, making her ache for him.

He pushed his other hand beneath her top, found her breast, squeezed her nipple tight before sliding his thumb over it. She arched into his touch, raking her nails over his back and letting her head fall back. He took advantage of her exposed throat, pressing hot, openmouthed kisses to her skin.

He pushed his hand up higher and managed to strip her of her top in one easy motion, then he kissed her mouth again, deeper, harder, and she couldn’t think. Couldn’t remember why she’d ever wanted to run from this. Couldn’t remember why she was here or even who she was. All she knew was that she wanted more. Whatever he would give, she wanted more.

He moved his hand down from her butt, pushing it between her thighs, sliding his fingers between her slick folds. If she could have thought, she would have been embarrassed over just how obvious it was that she wanted him, over