Sea Haven 02 - Spirit Bound

absorbed him in the same way he needed to absorb her.
    He was in no hurry. Craving rose like the sun, hot and bright and shocking. He wanted to savor this moment. Her acceptance of him. He felt her trembling—or maybe that was him. The great Stefan Prekenskii, seducer of women, trembling, needing.
    Her tongue touched her bottom lip, her breasts rose and fell beneath that thin tee. Inexorably, he drew her another step closer to the heat of his body. She blinked, but didn’t look away. Her scent enveloped him. The faint aroma, fresh and elusive, was a fragrance he expected he might encounter on an island paradise. Her hair fell over his arm, soft and unbelievably silky. Every detail burned into his mind, the individual strands that brushed his face as he bent slowly toward her. The flutter of those feathery lashes, her lips parting, the swift inhale.
    His mouth settled on hers, the softest of touches. A slight brush only, just to savor that first feel of how soft her lips were—to test the strong magnetic pull between them. He should have known better—should have known it would never end there. He should have heeded all the warning signs—and there had been many. In one moment of honest clarity, he had known but it didn’t matter. He wanted this and, once he’d touched her, there was no way to stop. Both of them were falling and it was too late to save them now that they’d made that first slight contact.
    He pulled her across that breath of air separating them, tight, so that her body was imprinted on his, all that soft skin, the lush curves, his free hand sliding inevitably to that expanse of tempting bare skin. His fingertips bit into her waist, slid over her belly and caressed her hip as his mouth took hers.
    The world around them burst into a fiery blaze. The heat soared until he could hear the roaring and crackling of flames. He’d inadvertently struck a match and lit a stick of dynamite. Her body melted against his while his heart roared in his ears and he lost himself completely in the beauty and wonder of her mouth. She tasted a little like an expensive champagne, going straight to his head and hitting him hard. She made him weak and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she belonged in his arms.
    He couldn’t stop kissing her, over and over until they both were out of breath and their bodies were on fire. He found that small golden chain and he tugged and rolled the gold between his fingers the way he needed to do to her nipples. He ached to touch her, to memorize her, to devour her inch by slow inch. He tried not to be rough, but his mouth had a mind of its own, each kiss feeding his hunger beyond endurance.
    His hand left her nape, fist bunching her hair, pulling her head back, taking what was his. His. Men like him didn’t have homes. They didn’t own anything they couldn’t walk away from in an instant. All the money he had acquired over the years by fair or foul means stayed in bank accounts no one knew about, never to be spent on the luxury of a home—or a woman.
    Yet, this woman belonged to him—was made for him. He didn’t know anything about her and yet he knew everything. He kissed his way to her chin and back up to the heat of her mouth. He couldn’t resist her mouth and evidently she didn’t have any more of a sense of self-preservation than he did because she opened to him instantly, feeding on his hunger, returning it tenfold.
    Every cell in his body responded to her. Knew. He knew without a single doubt that she was born to be his. Kissing her only got better. His fist tightened, holding her still. A warning signal in the back of his mind brought him close enough to the surface to remind him Thomas Vincent would never kiss her with such confidence. He wouldn’t grow rough and demanding. He would never be so aggressive. Stefan ruthlessly pushed the warning away and took her mouth, exploring, teasing, demanding. Sliding willingly into a deep abyss.
    Lust rose like a volcano, winding itself through pure passion as his fingers stroked caresses over her bare midriff, absorbing all that soft skin. Heat rushed through his veins, setting up a terrible addiction he knew he would never be rid of. She tasted too good. Matched fire with fire. She needed the way he did. Her hands fisted in his hair and she gave herself to him, holding nothing back, feeding his need more, driving him past control.
    Truth was the only thing that could have stopped him from taking what he knew belonged