Heart Of Atlantis

palace and he launched himself into the air, heading for the window of his rooms in the temple, she considered what he’d said.
    “I don’t really like floppy hats. I’m more fashionable than that.”
    “No, you’re not.”
    “Yes, I am.”
    “Quinn, you are the most beautiful woman in the world to me, and I love you, but you look like you find your clothing in a homeless person’s trash can.”
    “I guess you don’t want me to buy a red bra and panties, then,” she said, lowering her eyelashes and peeking up at him through them. “Am I seducing you yet?”
    He groaned and flew faster. “I should have told them not to disturb us for forty-eight hours. Or three weeks.”
    “You have to bring me food this time,” she said, practical to the last. “I’ll need my energy to keep up with you.”
    Power flooded back into him as his magic recharged under the welcome sight of the moon over Atlantis, shining brightly on his people after so many thousands of years. His body began to glow again, and she smiled.
    “You’re lighting up. Does that mean my feminine wiles are working? If I even have feminine wiles,” she said, laughing. “I think they got rusty over the past decade.”
    “Your wiles are more than sufficient to make me want to drive my cock inside you and never stop until you scream,” he said sincerely, bending down to fasten his lips around her nipple right through her shirt. The power surged through him and into her body, and she moaned.
    “Can’t you go any faster?”
    He flew through the window, tossed her on his bed, and ripped her clothes from her lovely, perfect body, while she frantically tore at his pants, finally succeeding in pulling them off.
    “Please, please,
please
,” she said, and she wrapped her hand around his erection.
    It was his turn to moan.
    He was thrusting into her body within seconds. She was screaming his name soon after.
    He was going to be the happiest damn gardener in the history of the world.

Chapter 35
    It wasn’t twenty-four hours, after all. It was more like three days. Every time Alaric touched Quinn, his mind rebelled at the idea of letting the outside world anywhere near them just yet.
    When he kissed her, she tasted like hope. Hope for a future that didn’t involve swords or death. Hope for happiness and love.
    He pulled her closer to him and stroked the curve of her hip, marveling anew at the texture of her skin. It was pale luminescence in the moonlight, softer than the finest Atlantean silk. Warm and delicate; tantalizing him with delight. His fingers traced the tip of her breast, and she shivered in response.
    That had been a wondrous surprise to him—that his fierce rebel warrior woman would be so sensual in his bed. He lowered his head to kiss her nipple, and she gasped a little.
    “Tell me you want me,” he demanded, raising his head to look into her eyes, his voice low and rough. He needed to hear the words, even though her body showed him the evidence. “Tell me again and again.”
    “I do want you, you know I do,” she said, her eyes darkening. “I want you more than I ever knew was possible.”
    She bit the curve of his neck, and need swamped him. Need and white-hot desire. He touched her cheek and wondered that this complex, enticing, incredible woman could truly be his.
    He was
home
. Forever.

    Quinn laughed a little as Alaric’s eyes began to glow a hot emerald green. She’d never have to wonder if he wanted her. He broadcast his passion as strongly as his other emotions. She wanted him again and again and always. He was refuge and respite and release. He was love.
    She opened her lips and her body to him and kissed him, tasting his mouth and tongue, and teasing him by nibbling at his bottom lip gently. His hard body shook in her arms, and she gloried in the feel of knowing he was losing control, even as she herself began to tremble.
    Any remaining barriers between them dissolved as the magic of the soul-meld and the simpler, far older magic of love swirled around and through them, adding an edge of fierce intensity to their touch. She caressed the muscular line of his shoulder and then his chest, and he caught his breath when she traced her tongue over one flat nipple.
    “I cannot get enough of your touch,” he said. “Never. I might not ever let you leave my bed.”
    She laughed a little, but then she allowed her hand to roam lower until she grasped the hard length of his erection. “I may never let
you
leave. Did you