Page 99 of Into Darkness (Night Prowler 6)
Magnus turned his head and looked at her. His eyes glinted in the light, and the desire and intent in them was unmistakable. Her heart skipped a beat.
Not here!
No? He prowled toward her, a scant smile lifting the corners of his lips. Why not?
Lu stepped back, looking nervously down at the crowd below. Magnus! Anyone can see us!
His jaw tightened. He gave her a look of pure, possessive lust. You think I’d ever allow another man’s eyes on your body? You think I’d ever share what’s mine with anyone else? Even a look?
He kept moving forward, and she kept stepping back, assuming she’d come into contact with the wall at any moment. But then she brushed past another curtain she hadn’t noticed, and stumbled into a small alcove off the main corridor, lit with candles. She realized it was a curtained balcony just as Magnus reached out his hand and curled it around her upper arm. He pulled her against his chest, staring down into her eyes with a fierce, burning need.
“I don’t share,” he growled. With his free hand, he ripped a second curtain hanging on a rod above the entrance around to close the gap between the main set, then guided her to the far back corner of the balcony, around a trio of high-backed chairs to a tufted velvet settee strewn with cushions. He sank down onto it and dragged her onto his lap. The music blared and thumped and throbbed, but it was quieter inside their little cocoon above the fray, and she could hear the irregular rasp of his breathing. She put both hands on his chest, felt the pounding of his heart, and smiled.
“Good,” she said, leaning over to whisper directly into his ear. “Because I’m only for you. All of me is only for you. And all of you is only for me.”
He kissed her then, hard, his eyes fluttering closed as a groan left his lips. He fisted his hands into her hair, devouring her mouth, then dragged his lips across her jaw and down her throat, licking and sucking, tasting her skin, ravenous and unrestrained. It excited her on some deep level, his loss of control when he touched her. She loved it.
She loved him.
She whispered it, head thrown back as he roughly unzipped her jacket and pushed it off her shoulders, tossing it to the floor. The words were lost to the music and the sound of his harsh breath; he made no indication he’d heard, and maybe she hadn’t said them aloud after all. She was reeling, breathless, drunk with him.
Her shirt came off next, then her camisole, and then his beautiful rough hands were all over her bare skin, his mouth and lips following everywhere he touched. He set her on her feet and shucked off her boots, dragged her pants down over her hips, tore off her panties. And when she stood naked before him, he looked at her for a long, silent moment, his eyes just drinking her in.
“Angel,” he said, staring into her eyes with a look of rapt ardor, “looking at you could bring a dead man back to life.”
“He wouldn’t be looking at me if he was dead,” she teased, cupping his face in her hands, “but thank you for the compliment.”
She bent and pressed a kiss to his mouth, then, straddling him, pulled his shirt off over his head. He tore his trousers open to his hips, freeing his enormous erection, then flipped her onto her back in one swift, confident move, setting her down carefully against the cushion.
Maybe it was the music, or the candlelight, or the hunger in his eyes, but in that moment, Lu felt like a different person. She felt powerful, strong, and mysterious, a thread of her long-ago dream self running through her veins, urging her on.
Show him what belongs to him. Show him what’s his.
Holding his gaze, she arched back against the settee, spread her legs open, cupped her breasts in her hands. He looked down at her, drawing in a sharp breath. A smile curving her lips, she slowly slid her hands from her breasts, down her rib cage, over her stomach, undulating erotically, totally unabashed, in love with the look of worship and passion in his eyes. He looked starving and brutally dangerous, hovering there above her, and what she said next pushed him right over the edge.
“I need your mouth,” she said, and dipped a finger into the wetness between her legs, “here.”
He complied without hesitation, pushing her hand aside to cover her with his mouth. He wasn’t gentle; she didn’t want him to be. He was rough and demanding, sliding his fingers inside her without preliminaries, sucking hard where she most needed it. She arched and cried out, her sounds of pleasure and his growls of desire drowned by the music. He brought her right to the edge of release, then stopped.
She blinked open her eyes. He stared up at her, her eyes feral in the flickering light.
“I think we’re going to need some protection.”
She didn’t understand until he reached for her jacket, and pulled her gloves from the pocket.
She laughed weakly. He helped her put them on, then positioned himself above her, his arms braced on either side of her head. He eased himself inside her without ever looking away from her eyes, so she could see exactly how good it felt for him, a look she knew was mirrored in her own eyes.
When he was fully seated, he cupped a firm hand under her bottom and leaned down to whisper in her ear.
“Feel good?”
Her answer was a low moan, which made him chuckle. He slid out, then back in, deep, wringing another moan from her throat.
“Tell me,” he said, husky. “Tell me how good it feels, angel.”
“Better than anything, ever.” Her voice was unsteady. He slid in and out again, achingly slow, and her legs began to shake.
“Tell me you love it.” His words were hot and demanding at her ear.
