Warriors of Poseidon 03 - Atlantis Unleashed

well, it sounds stupid to even ask this, but are you okay?”
    The gentle concern in her voice nearly broke him, when centuries of battle had not. She sounded worried for him. For him , when she should hate him for what he‟d done to her. First abducting her, then putting her in such danger and through so much suffering.
    He was a monster. No matter what he needed, she deserved better.
    There is none better than us, the Nereid shouted in his mind.
    Justice tried to slam the mental door shut, but only partially succeeded. Keely‟s hands trembled in his; he‟d been clenching them far too tightly. “I‟m not sure what I feel right now.
    But regardless of my reaction to this news, thank you. Thank you for giving me the truth that I never knew before.”
    “Your mother loved you, and she wanted you,” Keely said. “Her emotion was very powerful, Justice. What they told you about being unwanted—it was a lie. It was a big, fat, cowardly lie.”
    He smiled at the outrage in her voice. She was furious on his behalf. Warmth swept through him at the thought. Had anyone, during the entirety of his life, ever been outraged on his behalf before? They‟d depended upon him, they fought at his side, and they‟d saved his life.
    But outrage? No. Never.
    Only Keely had ever stood up for him like this.
    “So you told him,” he murmured. “You told the king of Atlantis himself that he was wrong. I would give everything I own to have been able to see that.”
    She smiled back at him, and the shared flash of humor turned something over inside his chest.
    He knew he wanted her; he‟d accepted that he hungered for her. But perhaps it was more.
    Perhaps she was breaching the barriers he‟d long since established around his emotions.
    Shock reverberated through his mind, and the Nereid broke through again. Yes, let her in. She told us the truth. My—our—mother was a warrior woman, as all Nereid maidens are. She fought for us, and she died for us. Somehow, she spoke to us through this human. Isn’t that enough to let us know that this female belongs to us?
    Justice looked at Keely again, but this time he saw her through the lenses of the Nereid‟s eyes.
    Her quiet beauty became sharper, more sensual. The green of her eyes glowed like the most precious jade. The curve of her lips turned sinful, almost begging him to capture them with his own. The pulse beating in her throat fascinated him. He wanted to taste her skin. He wanted to trace the path from her neck to the lovely, enticing breasts hidden beneath her shirt.
    With his mouth. With his hands.
    Yes. Yes, the Nereid whispered. She is ours. Take her. Take her now.
    Justice leaned forward, caught almost hypnotically in a web of heated desire. Keely‟s eyes widened, but she didn‟t protest or try to evade him. Instead, her lips parted slightly on an indrawn gasp of air.
    Lust coiled inside him, sharp-edged and raw. His cock hardened so painfully that he thought the pressure would drive him mad. He needed her.
    He must have her.
    He lifted his hands and finally, finally wrapped them in that glorious hair, and she sighed in either relief or surrender. He didn‟t know which. Didn‟t care.
    As long as she let him taste her.
    Both sides of his fractured soul merged into a single, driving need. “Keely,” he groaned, pushed almost beyond bearing it. “Please let me kiss you. Just . . . just once,” he said, even knowing it for a lie. He could never take just one taste of her lips.
    Never.
    She hesitated, and the blackness of an abyss yawned before him. If she denied him, would he be able to accept her wishes? Or would he lose himself and his very soul to the blackness of his hungers and take her, force her, plunder this woman he needed so very much?
    She continued to hesitate and, though screaming pain sliced through him, he stopped himself.
    He stopped both of his selves. He pulled away, even though the Nereid howled in gnashing rage inside him.
    Before he could untangle her hair from his fingers, she placed her own hands over his. Stared into his eyes. Parted her lips and nervously moistened them with her tongue.
    “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes. Just once.”
    Then she lifted her head and touched her lips, ever so tentatively, to his.
    And he was lost.
    Flame and longing and soaring ecstasy ripped through him, just from the first gentle taste of her lips. He shuddered and tried to remain still, tried not to frighten her, but she trembled under his hands and leaned