Hydromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 4)

They were intertwined in a desperate dance, his mouth and body searching entry to hers, and from the determination of his movements, he seemed like a man used to getting what he wanted. He cupped her breasts through the fabric of her T-shirt, pushing the elastic of her bikini top aside with heated impatience. He uttered another groan of satisfaction when he found the hard tips under her clothes.

She wanted him like she’d never wanted a man. Passion had never taken such a strong hold of her. Desire raced through her, boiling her blood and making it sing in her ears. She wanted him inside her. She wanted him to take her hard, to do unimaginable things to her. She wanted him to sink his teeth into her skin and mark her. She arched against him and turned her head to break his smothering kiss for a breath. A gasp escaped her throat as his lips went to her neck. Pleasure coursed through her, tightening her breasts and the sensitive nub between her thighs.

She rubbed her body against his and gripped his hair. “Tim—” She gasped again when he responded with his own kind of pressure, pushing his erection against the mound of her sex.

“What is it, Maya?”

“Take me,” she said, her voice hoarse. “Mark me.”

He froze. He pulled away, his face blocking out the sun that had dipped below the roof of the veranda.

He pulled down the hem of her T-shirt that had shifted up. “I’m sorry. I forgot myself.”

Was it something she’d said? A second ago, the passion between them was explosive, and now there was nothing but the heat in his eyes mixed with some crazy apologetic expression.

He sat back and offered her a hand. When she took it, he pulled her into a sitting position and withdrew his touch to rake his fingers through his hair.

What was she thinking? They hadn’t just almost gone all the way on his veranda, in broad daylight, with Lee, Cesar, Frida, and his guards around.

Darren was laughing his ass off in her head. Told you not to get involved, baby, his voice said. She had to save the moment or her opportunity to gain a shred of information was lost.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You’re right. Not here.” She laid her hand on his arm. “We should go inside.”

His eyes widened a fraction. “You don’t get it. I don’t give a fuck who sees us.”

“Then explain it to me,” she said, impatience flowing into her tone.

He brushed a thumb over her lips. “Don’t ever tempt me again.”

She pulled away. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t drive me that far unless you’re prepared for the consequences.”

“I think the consequences are what we were aiming for, Tim.”

“That’s not why I invited you here.”

“Why did you bring me here?”

“For you to get to know me better.”

“To get to know you better, or,” she made inverted commas in the air with her fingers, “to get to know me better?”

“You don’t have to look for an underlying meaning in my words, because there’s none. I want us to spend time together.”

She shook her head. “You’re sending me mixed signals.”

“Nothing of it is mixed.”

“I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you get?”

“We’re physically attracted.” Her gaze moved to his erection. “Very much. I don’t get why you stop every time things get heated.”

After a pause, as if he carefully considered his words, he finally said, “I want us to get to know each other before we sleep together. I want you to know who I am, to be sure that you can live with me, because once I sleep with you, you’re mine. Forever. After that, there’ll be no letting you go.”

Chapter 3

“You can’t be serious.” Maya stared at Tim, certain her face portrayed her bewilderment.

He pulled her against him in a hard, possessive movement. “I’ve never been more serious in my life. Which is why you have to be damn sure you know what you’re getting yourself into before we start.”

She wiggled herself free, and Tim didn’t prevent her. He didn’t hold her captive in his arms any longer. Only with his eyes. He watched her carefully, measuring her reaction. She didn’t know how to react. This wasn’t what she’d expected. What about the woman from Mango? What about the hostility she’d felt from Frida, an unmistakable female cattiness that only another female could recognize for what it was—jealousy?

Those were not the questions that should concern her. She should only be worried about the weapons, when the next shipment was due, and how Tim was involved. She pushed herself to her feet.

Tim got up quickly. He touched her cheek in a soft caress, the predator behavior gone and the gentleness back. “I’ll give you time to get used to the idea. Take as long as you need.” He dropped his hand to his side. “Cesar will take you home now, but only because I don’t trust myself.”