Kyler's Justice (Assassins of Gravas Book 3) - N.J. Walters Page 0,28

like the finest gold. Many women would kill for hair like hers. Not to mention her eyes, which were as blue as a summer’s day on Gravas. Yet, she didn’t consider herself beautiful.

“I shouldn’t.” He wasn’t the kind of man most people—male or female—were comfortable around. And he didn’t know how to act in the company of others—too much time on his own, by necessity and design.

He was tired of existing, of going from one mission to the next. Yes, it was for the greater good, but a man needed more. He needed more.

He needed Etta.

“I’m going to burn in the depths of Gravas for this.” He lowered his head. Her lips were slightly parted, the bottom one plumper from where she’d been nibbling on it.

“Etta.” He kissed her, allowing her to taste his frustration, his need, the conflict eating at his soul. Her arms banded around him. People kept him at arm’s length. They didn’t pull him close. Not even the handful of lovers he’d had sex with.

Those times had been about mutual pleasure. Quick couplings over as fast as he could manage while making sure his partners found release.

This wasn’t anything like that.

He could spend days exploring every inch of her creamy skin and it still wouldn’t be enough. All they’d done was kiss and she’d already ruined him for any other woman. An assassin trained since he was a child, his instincts were honed to the sharpest edge. The veneer of civilization he wore was thin. Around her, it was practically nonexistent.

A beast roared to life inside him. Claim her. Keep her.

Win or lose, life or death, Etta was the only woman for him.

Kneeling on the bed, he eased her down until she was sprawled on the bed once again. He didn’t break the kiss, continuing to stroke his tongue against hers. She smelled like cinnamon and tasted of mint. They would forever be the scents of home.

****

The man could kiss.

Breathless, she was swept away by the force of his passion. His grip on the back of her head was gentle but unbreakable, as if he feared she’d try to get away and wanted to stop her.

As if. She wasn’t going anywhere. Safety was an illusion. A part of her had known that even when she’d run away.

It was crazy to be here with him, but the bad would come regardless. It was time to grab for whatever good she could get.

He’d almost walked away. Maybe she should have let him go, but her life was littered with regrets. Whatever happened between them couldn’t end well. She briefly squeezed her eyes shut and pushed away all thoughts of the future. It was crazy to want him, but she wasn’t backing away.

His strength was enormous. He’d carried her from the living area as though she’d weighed nothing. With his shirt off and battlesuit peeled to his waist, there was nothing to hide him from view. Somehow, he appeared even larger naked, as if the clothing were the only thing keeping him civilized.

Primal. That was the best word to describe him. Like a meteor shower, he was an unstoppable force of nature. He was a Gravasian assassin, the most dangerous creature in the universe.

But right now, he was simply a man with a woman.

She ran her hands over his massive biceps, loving the way they rippled when she stroked. His skin was darker than hers, like it was tanned, but the color appeared natural. The muscles of his chest were like titansteel. There was no fat, no give to him anywhere. As she traced her fingers over the broad expanse, she found raised lines in several places.

Dragging her mouth away from his, she sucked in a breath and lowered her head for a better look. His hand tightened on the back of her head before he released her. There were dozens of them, most of them old and faded.

Blinded by lust and his magnificent physique, she hadn’t looked closely, overwhelmed by the sheer maleness of him. Now, looking more closely, it was appalling how many scars he carried.

“So many.” She pressed her lips to one and then another, working her way from one pec to another.

“They don’t matter.” He caught her chin and dragged his tongue across her bottom lip.

She hated how he didn’t seem to care about his own safety. “Of course, they matter. I thought the battlesuit would protect you.”

“It does. They’re from training. You don’t wear one in training. You can’t learn to depend on the