Ruby Fever (Hidden Legacy, #6)(83)

“I’m sorry.” I stroked his cheek.

He shook his head. “I know it’s not her speaking. It doesn’t hurt. Well, not that much. The point is, I should’ve told you. I apologize.”

“Apology accepted. I wasn’t trying to intrude.”

He gathered me to him and squeezed. My back was pressed against his chest, his arms were around me. There was no place I would rather be than here, wrapped in him.

“I know,” he murmured. “I was trying to protect what we have. Since it was coming from my side of the family, I wanted to take care of it. Your plate is already full. I didn’t want to dump a slimy toad into it.”

“Toads are not slimy. Their skin is dry. Frogs look slimy because of the secretions on their skin but they are not slimy to the touch . . . You really should tell me to shut up once in a while. Like right now.”

“Shut up,” he said gently, grinned, and kissed my hair.

He had taken care of most of his family’s debt. About seventeen million dollars was still outstanding. A huge sum, but a fraction of what was once owed. He had tried to buy that debt using a loan Connor offered him. The creditor refused to sell. We had to settle for knowing that his mother and two sisters were taken care of. Alessandro sent them money every month on top of the nest egg he’d already built for them.

I shifted in his hold slightly. He leaned forward and kissed the bend of my neck. Mmmm . . .

“I’d like to meet the harpy,” he said.

“You’ve already met her.”

“But that was in the pool, in a public place.” His lips traced a hot line along my skin. “I’d like to meet her here, in our bed.”

“Why?”

“I need to know how much she loves me.” He nipped my neck lightly.

A shiver dashed from the base of my neck all the way to my toes. Mine. Mine, mine, mine . . .

His arms were around me, carved muscle hard under the golden skin.

“You said I was her favorite.” His voice was an open invitation. It caressed, it enticed, and I had no defenses against it.

“Yes.”

I felt her rising in me, demanding, violent, and completely obsessed. He was the glowing core of her world. My world. She and I were one being and there was no holding myself back.

I pushed away from him and turned so I could see him. His face was uncompromising, his eyes hungry. I would’ve drowned the whole world just to have him look at me like that.

“Show me,” he said.

“This is a terrible idea,” I whispered.

He leaned closer, his face an inch away. “I want it. All of it. Everything.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I do. That’s why I am asking for it.”

I smelled the light scent of citrus and sandalwood on his skin. He was so close. I knew every line of his face. His molten eyes, his harsh cheekbones, his strong nose, his sensual mouth, his chiseled jaw, and yet I stared as if we had just met, stunned and longing. Wanting something, needing something I couldn’t explain. It was more than lust, more than sex, and it ate at me as if a gaping hole had opened in my psyche, and only he could make me whole.

My mind was full of dark feathers. They fluttered in my soul.

He leaned forward, close enough to touch. The space between us was so small, his voice was a breath on my lips. “Love me, my beautiful harpy.”

I launched myself at him. He wasn’t expecting it and I knocked him off the bed. Somehow, he sprung to his feet on the floor, taking me with him. My nails dug into the skin on his back, like talons. I locked my legs around him and kissed him, insatiable, furious that someone had hurt him and nearly insane with love and lust. I drank him in, swearing to love him forever, him and only him. He kissed me back, taking over, and thrust his tongue into my mouth, turning my assault into a pledge. It wasn’t a kiss, it was an oath. And then I bit his lip and tasted blood to seal it.

There were brakes screeching in my brain, logic and reason, warning that I was teetering on the edge of a cliff. I shoved them aside, took a running start, and jumped, falling into the bottomless chasm. My black wings snapped open, their tips glowing with red, and I soared.

Alessandro stared at me for a shocked moment. I cupped his face between my hands and kissed him again. My wings beat around us. If they’d had substance, I would have pulled him off his feet into the air.

His hand gripped my butt, his fingers scalding hot on my skin. He grabbed my panties and tore them off. I spun off him onto the bed. He barely had a chance to pull his pants off, and then I pulled him down, onto his back, and perched on top of him. His shaft was rock-hard under me. I yanked my shirt off.

He reached for me. I pinned his arms down and thrust myself against him. He slid inside me in a shocking burst of pleasure. It reverberated through me and erupted into a shout. The sound that left my lips was half song, half wretched cry, and the magic it summoned spun around us, conjuring distant echoes of salt spray and rough rock. He was the sailor I had stolen from the world and no force on Earth could compel me to give him back.

I leaned back and rode him, faster and faster, my black wings spread above us. His hands caressed my breasts and gripped my hips, pulling me harder onto him with every thrust. His magic whipped around us, a convulsing serpent of orange sparks. He arched his hips, matching my rhythm, his stomach flat and hard, the muscles on his chest tight with tension. There was so much power in him, in that strong body, in his eyes, in his magic. And in this moment, it was all mine.