Warriors of Poseidon 05 - Atlantis Redeemed

this. You will be my woman in every way.”
    She shivered again and started to cross her arms over her breasts, but he caught her hands in his, still staring deeply into her eyes.
    “I wasn’t planning to sign a contract,” she said, attempting a chuckle. “I just wanted—”
    “Mine,” he repeated. “I’m going to claim you now. This is your last chance to change your mind.”
    She lifted her chin. “I could say the same for you. I’m not changing my mind, but I’m getting kind of cold, so if you’re done talking . . .”
    He pounced. There was no other word for it, no finesse, no smooth seduction. He pounced on her, and in seconds she was on her back, her pants, too, stripped off her body and tossed aside, and he was staring down at her with such exquisitely blissed-out happiness on his face that she laughed out loud.
    He blinked, as if drawn out of a trance by the sound, and then a dangerously seductive smile spread across his face. “I love the sound of your laughter, Tiernan Butler.”
    “I love the sight of that sexy smile of yours, Brennan of Atlantis,” she replied. “Now, can we quit talking and maybe you can kiss me?”
    “I will kiss every inch of your body, and take hours in the doing, but now I find I cannot wait.”
    He took her mouth, captured it, captured her, and, catching her wrists in his hands, pulled them up and over her head. He kissed her mouth and her neck and bit down on the sensitive curve of her neck, and heat sizzled through her, a delicious fullness and tingling invading her limbs and Atlantis Redeemed – Warriors of Poseidon 05
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    making her writhe underneath him, seeking more.
    “More, more,” she demanded. “Now.”
    He shouted out a laugh, and then his hands were on her and it was she making the noise, moaning as his fingers touched her, spreading her, testing her.
    “You are so wet for me,” he said, his voice rough with need, and she wanted to bite him. Put her mouth all over him and taste him, but most of all she needed—she needed.
    He stood up and yanked his own pants down and his erection was enormous, jutting out in front of him, and he didn’t stop, didn’t hesitate, but leapt back onto the bed, on top of her, clearly intent on only one goal. He spread her thighs with his big hands and entered her with one powerful thrust, as deep as he could go, until she cried out from the pressure and fullness and the ecstasy of having what she wanted so badly, what she needed so much, exactly where she needed him.
    “Mine,” he said, withdrawing and thrusting into her again and again. Long, powerful strokes.
    Claiming strokes, dominance and possession in every movement of his body. “Mine, and mine, forever and ever.”
    She wrapped her legs around him, digging her heels into the hard muscles of his thighs, and he lapsed into Atlantean again, murmuring endearments or offering promises, and oh, oh, she’d never felt anything so wonderful. The truth of whatever he was saying rang in her head, a symphony of bells, so no matter that she didn’t understand the language, she heard and understood his truth.
    “More,” she cried out, delirious with need, poised on the edge of some marvelous fulfillment.
    “More and more, and don’t forget you’re mine, too,” she cried out, and then she was gone, flying up and over into the stars themselves, or through the dome into the ocean over Atlantis, flying free fall into ecstasy and release.
    Her orgasm must have triggered his, because he drove into her, one final time, deeper and farther than ever before, and then his big body shuddered over her as he poured himself into her.
    She had a moment for sanity and common sense to return, and thoughts of pregnancy, before all of that vanished under an onslaught of pure sensation and unbearably beautiful light and color. She was falling, but somehow falling . . . up? Sideways? No.
    Into. She was falling into Brennan’s soul, and it scared her to death.
    Brennan roared out his pleasure, a vast and unimaginable sweet, sweet madness, as release took him and his seed poured into her. His, only his, always his. She must acknowledge it, must agree, or he’d lose his grip on sanity. He must tell her, make her understand.
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    “Tiernan,” he said, but he managed only that word, her name, before it took him. The soul-meld. He stepped out into the abyss and willingly, so willingly, dove into her soul.
    Her