The Mammoth Book of Paranormal Romance

tongue into his mouth and made soft purring sounds. She nibbled his lower lip then teased his tongue with hers. As they kissed, she drew him with her so that they were moving backwards until she hit something hard. His desk. File folders crashed to the floor as she scooted onto the surface.
    Lilin wrapped her arms around his neck again and brought him down with her as she continued the magic of her kiss. She pulled him closer until he stood between her thighs, his hardness pressed against her heat.
    Archer placed one of his hands on her soft breast and pinched her nipple, causing her to purr louder. He moved the fingers of his other hand between their bodies and slipped them inside her core. She made small sounds of pleasure against his mouth as he rubbed her with his thumb.
    He had to take her. And now. He braced one hand on the desk and reached to unfasten his jeans with the other.
    Something knocked at the back of his mind as he continued kissing Lilin, the heat and fervour between them growing and growing.
    He couldn’t think clearly. The haze of lust was so strong.
    The knocking in his head wouldn’t stop.
    Wait. It wasn’t in his head. Someone was at his door.
    The realization was enough to scatter the haze and bring him back to reality. He pushed away from the desk, away from Lilin, and shook his head to clear his mind.
    The knocking grew louder.
    “Mr Dane,” came a muffled voice from the other side of the door, “Mr Garfield’s here for his ten o’clock appointment. Is everything all right?” It was Molly’s voice and she sounded both concerned and curious. She’d probably seen him walk in with Lilin.
    Archer stepped back and nearly stumbled into one of the padded chairs in front of his desk. Lilin’s beautiful breasts were pink from his caresses, her lips swollen from his kisses and her thighs wide, exposing her soft pink flesh. A wicked smile tilted the corners of her lips.
    Another knock. Archer raised his voice. “I’ve been on an important call, Molly. Be right there.
    “Get your clothes on,” he ordered Lilin in a low growl. “However you were hired, you’re now fired. Don’t come back here.”
    She pouted. “Don’t you want to take me?”
    “Yes . . . No! Get your clothes on.” He glanced around for her skirt and blouse. The only things on the floor were the scattered messages and architectural plans that he had to pick up in a hurry before Garfield came into the room. Archer turned back to his desk.
    Lilin was gone.
    Archer couldn’t move. This woman - or whatever was happening to him - was driving him mad.
    He hurried around his desk and checked under it. Nothing. There was no other possible place for her to hide in his office, which contained only his desk, chairs and a round conference table. She definitely wasn’t under the table.
    What was going on?
    This took hallucinating to a whole new level.
    He raised his fingers to his nose - the fingers that had just been inside her — and smelled Lilin’s musk. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind.
    Now his hallucinations included her smell?
    Lilin grumbled as she walked in the Hall of the Lost. Her hair caressed her naked buttocks, the air felt cool against her breasts, and the marble floor smooth beneath her bare feet. She’d been summoned to Queen Rusalka of the Unseelie Court. No doubt because of her failure.
    She’d almost had Archer. Almost had him.
    There would be no resisting her tonight.
    Her shoulders tensed and her skin tingled as the Unseelie Fae guards drew open the massive gold-leafed doors of Rusalka’s receiving room. The guards were dark-green skinned with pointed ears and fierce expressions. They carried even fiercer weapons.
    Lilin walked along the intricately carved footpath that led through the chamber to the Queen’s throne. Walking into the chamber was like walking into the forest, complete with trees, fresh earth, and wildflower blooms.
    Queen Rusalka was like all Fae: her features were ageless but she was centuries, if not millennia, old. She bore the darkness of the Unseelie.
    A crown of white-gold thorns was perched upon her long ringlets and she wore a black gown as usual. Each gown was different and beautiful, but always black. Black gemstones sparkled on the bodice of her gown today, and a diaphanous skirt sheltered her small, always bare, feet.
    Lilin knelt before the Queen and lowered her head.
    “You have been unsuccessful.” Queen Rusalka’s sharp tone echoed through the trees in