Before she could fully register the bolt that zapped her, a tug swirled her around smoothly, as if in a choreographed dance, and brought her slamming against him from breast to calf.
Before she could draw another breath, one of his hands slipped into the hair at her nape, immobilizing her head and tilting her face upward. The other hand trailed a heavy path of possession down to her buttocks. Then, as he held her prisoner, exerting no force but that of his will, he let her see it. The very thing she’d once reveled in experiencing—the lethal beast he kept hidden under the civilized veneer. Its cunning savagery had assured his survival in the dangerous existence he’d chosen, his triumph over the most deadly enemies. That beast appeared to be starving—and she was what would sate its cravings.
Holding her stunned gaze, his own crackling with a dizzying mixture of calculation and lust, he lowered his head.
Feeling she’d disintegrate at the touch of his lips, she averted her face at the last moment.
His lips landed at the corner of her mouth, plucking convulsively at her flesh. The familiarity of his lips, the unfamiliarity of his facial hair, sparked each nerve ending individually. The gusts of his breath filled her with his scent, burying her under an avalanche of memory. Of how it used to feel to lose herself to the ecstasy of his powerful possession.
The hand on her buttocks pressed her closer, letting her feel his arousal, wringing hers from her depths. Before she could deal with this blow, the hand holding her head combed through her hair. Each stroke sent delight cascading from every hair root, spilled moans from her depths in answer to the unintelligible bass murmurings from him. Then his other hand caressed its way beneath her jacket, freeing her blouse from her skirt...and delving below.
A gasp tore out of her as those calloused fingers splayed against her sizzling flesh, imprinting it like a brand, making her instinctively press closer. And then he took his onslaught to the next level.
Yanking up her skirt, he slipped below her panties to cup her buttocks, kneading her taut flesh hungrily before hauling her against him. Weightless, in his power, she keened as the long-craved steel of his erection ground against her core. A scalding growl rolled in his gut as he tugged one thigh, opening her around his hips, spreading her for his domination, while the hand at her back plastered her heaving chest against his. Her breasts swelled with each rub against his hard power, the abrasion of their clothes turning her nipples to pinpoints of agony.
She writhed in his hold as he singed kisses down her neck, ravaged her in suckles that would mark her skin, sending vicious pleasure hurtling through her blood, lodging into her womb with each savage pull.
All existence converged on him, became him—his body and breath, his taste and feel, his hands and mouth—as he strummed her flesh, reclaimed her every inch and response. With just a touch, she’d ceased to be herself, becoming a mass of need wrapped around him, open to him, his to exploit and plunder...to pleasure and possess.
She could no longer hear anything but her thundering heart and their strident breathing as he raised her up and slid her down his body in leisurely excursions. He had her riding his erection through their clothes. He dipped his head to capture her nipple through her bra in massaging nips, sending never-forgotten ecstasy corkscrewing through her every nerve ending.
Her moans droned, interrupted only by sharp intakes of breath. The flowing throb between her thighs escalated into pounding, tipping from discomfort into pain until she cried out. At her distressed if unmistakable demand, he shuddered beneath her, snapping his head up. Then, eyes glazed with ferocity, he crashed his lips onto her wide-open mouth and thrust deep.
She plunged into his taste, fierce wonder spreading in her flickering awareness. How did she remember it so accurately, crave it so acutely still?
Then everything ceased as his tongue invaded her, commanded hers to tangle and duel and drink deeper from the well of passion she’d once drowned in.
Then something stirred in her, shutting down her mind; something cold and ugly tore through the delirium. A realization.
This had happened before. This had been what he’d done to her that last time. He’d taken over her senses, exploited her responses, inundated her with physical satisfaction...and almost decimated her soul and psyche in the process.
Now he’d taken her over again, as if a mountain of pain and resentment didn’t exist between them. She was letting him pull her strings again when he only ever saw her as a means to an end. Having an even bigger end this time, he’d decided to go into all-out invasion mode from the get-go. And she was letting him. No.
Anger and humiliation shattered the spell, had her struggling in his arms as if fighting for her life.
Stiffening for a long moment, as if unable to make up his mind whether that was an attempt to get away or to press closer, he finally tore his lips from hers and slid her down his body and back to the ground.
Every muscle burning from the slow poison of need with which he’d reinfected her, she staggered, groping for equilibrium. She’d taken barely a step away when his hands descended on her shoulders and pulled her back against him.
She couldn’t even tremble, the control she’d long struggled for shattered, leaving her drained. She could only lean back against him limply, her head rolling on his shoulder.
Taking this as consent, he cupped her breasts, pressing against her as he groaned in her ear. “I didn’t intend to do this. I still have no control over what I’m doing right this second. I walked in here and it was as if time hit Rewind, as if we’d never been apart. And just like you always do, you overrode my every rational thought and impulse with a look, a word. Then I touched you and you responded...like you’re responding still....”
This zapped her with just enough energy to push out of his arms. “Sure. It’s my fault.”
He let her put distance between them this time. “There’s no fault here. Just the phenomenon that exists between us, this absolute physical affinity we share. But I really didn’t intend to kiss you.”
“Kiss me? That’s what you call a kiss?”
A rough huff of self-deprecation escaped him. “So I almost took you standing up, probably would have, not giving a second thought that we’re in the middle of your brother’s stateroom, if you hadn’t stopped me. You have that effect on me. I see you and I can only think of pleasuring you.”
Once she’d believed his every word. She’d been certain that what they did share was a phenomenon, as undeniable and unstoppable as a force of nature. Then she’d found out the truth. It was clear he thought she didn’t know, that he didn’t need to invent a new deception.
He approached her again, one of those hands stroking a gossamer touch down her cheek. “But you’re wrong. About the last thing you said to me. No matter how many blows to the head I sustain, nothing could make me forget it. You said, Find yourself someone else who might have a death wish. Because I don’t.”
He remembered. Word for word.
Figured. He was said to possess a computerlike mind, always archiving, networking, extrapolating. On top of his fighting prowess and weapons mastery, it was what made him the ultimate modern warrior and strategist in this information age.
She pulled away from the debilitation of his touch. “And that statement has been solidified by the passage of time and reinforced by this new stunt. So, since you have a flawless memory, what else is wrong with you? Haven’t I already turned down your marriage proposal once before?”
Perfect teeth sank into his lip, making her feel they’d sunk into hers again. “I prefer to dwell on when you said yes.”
She ignored the tingling of her lips. “Only to follow it with a resounding no, when I came to my senses. Now you’re using an impending war to reintroduce the subject? Since it’s not faulty memory, I assume these are your new orders?”
Something blipped in his gaze. It was gone before she could fathom it. But