How else could she explain the fact that this unwelcome reunion with the Atlantean had been the highlight of her entire day?
What other excuse could she possibly find for the fact that she was currently wrapped within the arms of a man who had done nothing but unsettle and annoy her from the instant they met, and she liked it?
God help her, she more than liked it.
Moaning, she speared her fingers deeper into his thick golden hair as she pulled him closer and her tongue dove deeper into his mouth. Her fangs surged, elongating as her desire intensified. Behind her closed eyelids her vision burned blood-red, and beneath her silk blouse and tailored pants, her skin tingled with the awakening of her dermaglyphs.
She was overcome with need, no doubt because it had been so long since she’d given in to her body’s demands—carnal and otherwise. Surely, that had to be the reason.
Every cell in her body lit up with a sudden and startling current of electricity as she sparred and tangled her tongue with Zael’s. Heat licked through her senses, into her veins, with each brush of his lips over hers.
It wasn’t as if she’d never kissed a man before. She had—although admittedly, infrequently at most. To her chagrin, kissing Zael made the memory of those other encounters dissolve into oblivion now.
And regardless of the fact that an audience of other clubgoers surrounded Zael and her from all sides, Brynne couldn’t get enough of him.
Just how many shots had she drunk tonight?
She couldn’t remember, nor did she care. With Zael’s mouth moving so hotly over hers, the only thing she could answer to now was her desire.
Wasn’t that what she’d wanted? Distraction from her problems. From her failures.
And yes, from her loneliness too. Zael had been right about that. She’d wanted a release from the emptiness of her life.
Just for a little while.
For a night.
With someone who wouldn’t judge her, or be inclined to stick around long enough to see just how fucked up she truly was. With her train wreck of an upbringing, she had no experience with emotional bonds, aside from the half-sister she’d met just several years ago.
And if having spent the first twenty-odd years of her life simply trying to survive wasn’t bad enough, she also had the added bonus of a cellular metabolism flaw that was slowly tearing her apart. She wasn’t wired for relationships. Long-term romantic commitments were not in her DNA—literally.
Which kind of made a player like Zael the perfect sexual outlet she was looking for tonight.
Hell, she was almost halfway there with him already.
Her veins felt like rivers of fire under her skin. The low hum of her need was rising swiftly in her temples, building with each heavy pound of her heart.
Panting as she tore her mouth away from his, Brynne stared up into his heavy-lidded, darkened blue eyes. “Let’s get out of here. My flat is just across the river.” She licked her lips, no easy feat when her fangs were fully extended and filling her mouth. “I want to go. Right now. With you.”
It was intended as a command, which should have been clear enough to him. But he stood unmoving. His handsome face was taut with desire, his mouth wet and slack from their kissing. Sexual interest radiated off every hard, golden inch of him. Most obviously in the rigid length of the erection that pressed against her hip.
Yet he slowly shook his head in denial.
“What are you trying to do here, Brynne? You’ve had too much to drink. I doubt you even know what you’re saying.”
She reached up, grabbing a fist full of the front of his shirt. “I’m saying I want to have sex with you, Zael. No strings attached, no need to call me in the morning. We don’t ever have to see each other again. In fact, I’d prefer that we don’t.”
She fully expected him to jump on the offer. At the very least, she expected she’d have to endure the Atlantean’s self-satisfied grin as he tossed off one of his snappy, arrogant comebacks before dragging her out of the club like the caveman she was certain he was.
Instead, he held her slightly unsteady gaze. His square jaw remained firm, unyielding.
When he spoke, his voice was low, utterly serious. “I should take you to bed, if only because you strike me as a woman who’s never been properly fucked in your life. But I won’t. Not like this.”
He pried her fingers from his shirt and took a step back from her.
Good lord, was he . . . offended?
Brynne scowled, weaving slightly on her feet. Her body vibrated with stalled need. “Aren’t you the one who’s been putting the full court press on me every time I’ve seen you? I thought you wanted me. It sure as hell felt like you did just now.”