Warriors of Poseidon 03 - Atlantis Unleashed

male, and she wanted him like she‟d never wanted anything or anyone before.
    When he reached her, he pulled her to him and kissed her with such possessiveness that she felt the heat of it sear through her to her soul. His tongue dove into her mouth and he kissed her as though he would die if he didn‟t. He twined his fingers in her hair, his hand cupping the back of her head, and drew her to him more tightly, until not even a breath of air could have fit between them.
    Passion soared through her; heat and pure crazed desire threatened to buckle her knees.
    “More,” she breathed against his lips. “I need more of you.”
    He put his hand on her butt and pulled her closer so that his penis fit between her legs and the hard bulge of it drove her further into wanting and need. “Now?” he asked.
    “Now, now, now,” she said, beyond embarrassment or reason.
    In one smooth movement, he whipped her shirt up and over her head and tossed it aside, and then bent his head to look at her.
    And she froze—she‟d forgotten the carving.
    Justice stared down at Keely‟s beautiful breasts, barely covered by scraps of lace, her nipples jutting out and making him want nothing more than to taste them, bite them, suck on them.
    Her necklace hung down in her pale, lovely cleavage as if drawing his eye. The pendant was a wooden carving of . . . a fish.
    His fish. One he‟d carved hundreds of years ago.
    He lifted it and examined it, sure he must be mistaken. But there was no mistake. “This is mine. But how is that possible?”
    Keely bit her lip and a pink flush heated her cheeks. “I meant to tell you about that. I found it several years ago and I—well, I had a vision of you. Carving it. By a fire. I thought you were a warrior from centuries ago, and you, well, it , sort of became my talisman. Someone I could think of when times were difficult.”
    He stared into her eyes as the truth of her confession slammed into his heart. She‟d had a vision quest of her own—of him. She‟d relied on him .
    “You are mine, Keely McDermott,” he said, his voice coming out as little more than a growl.
    “I‟m going to have you right now.”
    He stripped off the rest of her clothes in seconds and took a moment to hold her at arms‟
    length and marvel at the glory of her body. Lithe and toned, she was no hothouse flower but a woman who used her body and treated it well.
    “I love your legs,” he murmured.
    “Thank you, I—”
    “I need them to be wrapped around my waist.”
    She gasped a little and he caught her lips with his own again and pulled her up so he could feel all of her against his body. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around him and he raised her even higher, his hands supporting her wonderful ass, until his cock was centered under her warm, wet center.
    “I need you now, Keely,” he said, pushing against her just a little, straining every muscle to force himself to wait.
    “I need you, too.” She kissed him and he drove into her as far as he would go, thrusting his cock into her tight, wet heat, feeling her sheath clinging to him and clasping him until he was sure he would explode right away like some untried youngling.
    Keely cried out at the feel of him. His thickness filled her, stretching her so much that her nerve endings seared with a heady combination of pain and pleasure. But she was so wet from wanting him that her body accommodated his length and width and bucked wildly against him, needing more.
    Needing him to move.
    “Don‟t stop,” she panted, lifting herself up and sliding back down on the velvet-encased steel of his penis. He was so hard and so long that he touched some spot deep inside her that drove her crazy. “Please, more.”
    He devoured her mouth with hot, hard kisses as he thrust into her deeper and harder, rocking into a rhythm that made her whimper in delirious need. Heat and sheer urgent hunger shot through her until she was desperate for him, desperate to come, desperate to sate the almost unbearable need.
    She bit his neck, driven beyond reason, and he growled something in Atlantean, then plunged into her so deeply that she cried out, so close to the edge that she almost couldn‟t bear it.
    He stopped, holding her in place, buried inside her, and held still until she looked up at him, dazed and barely coherent. “What? Why did you stop?”
    An expression of sheer masculine triumph swept over his face and something feral glittered in his eyes. “Mine. Tell me. Tell