Darkness Unleashed (Guardians of Eternity #5)(48)

“Hmmm?”

“Are you asking me to move in with you?”

Jagr hesitated, then with a wary expression, he pulled back to meet her shocked gaze.

“Yes.”

“Have you ever shared your lair before?”

“Not willingly, no.”

“Then why would you offer now?”

His lips twisted. “Couldn’t I just be a good guy with a generous heart?”

“Not flipping likely.” She shook her head, strangely disturbed by his unexpected offer. “What do you get out of this?”

“I wish I knew.”

“What?”

His hand slid from her nape to the curve of her lower back, urging her against his stirring hardness. Regan sucked in a ragged breath as his thick c**k pressed into the tender flesh of her stomach.

“I know I want you. Desperately,” he said, a fierce hunger flaring through his eyes. “I know that you fascinate me even when you’re behaving like a lunatic.”

“Hey.”

“What I don’t know is why the thought of watching you walk away is…” He grimaced.

“Is what?”

“Unacceptable.”

“Unacceptable?”

“Completely and utterly unacceptable.”

She licked her lips, unnerved by the stark satisfaction that flared through her heart. Surely she couldn’t be pleased by his blatant claim of possession?

“It’s also inevitable,” she forced herself to mutter. “Once Culligan’s dead, I’m out of here.”

His lips twitched as he shifted to lightly scrape his fangs down the line of her throat.

“We’ll see,” he husked, his clever hands grasping the hem of her shirt to pull it off in one smooth motion. Her bra swiftly followed, fluttering to the ceramic tiles. “I can be very persuasive when I want something.”

She made a choked sound as his thumbs brushed over her straining ni**les. Holy…crap.

Persuasive?

He was downright mind-blowing.

Desperately trying to latch onto the reason this was a bad idea (and anything that felt so damned good had to be a bad idea), Regan sucked in a deep breath. Unfortunately, Jagr was one step ahead of her and, before she could form a coherent thought, his mouth was skating over the curve of her breast, closing over the tip, as his tongue teased her to near madness.

“Damn you,” she muttered, her fingers shoving into the tempting silk of his hair. He kissed and nibbled his way down her body, peeling away her remaining clothes between caresses.

“No, not damned,” he countered, straightening to meet her dazed gaze with an unreadable expression. “Redeemed.”

With a motion too swift for Regan to anticipate, Jagr swept her off her feet and was moving through the apartment. She barely managed to realize what was happening when she was tossed in the center of the Austin Powers bed, her arms and legs splayed like a sacrificial virgin.

“Jagr.”

Kicking off his heavy boots, Jagr pulled the T-shirt over his head and dropped his jeans to reveal the breathtaking glory of his male form.

“Yes, little one?” he demanded, lowering to cover her with the cool weight of his body.

She lifted her hands to push him away, only something went wrong. Instead of shoving against the hard planes of his chest, her fingers were stroking over the pale skin so ruthlessly marred by his scars.

“Shouldn’t we be planning what we intend to do next?” she demanded, her voice a husky rasp.

Lowering his head, Jagr nibbled at the corner of her mouth. “I know exactly what I intend to do next.”

An exquisite shudder shook her body. Oh, Lord, she hoped that his intentions included spreading her legs and finishing what he’d started.

Suddenly, she no longer cared that Culligan was out there still alive and breathing…the bastard. Or that there was a pack of demented curs that might or might not be hunting her.

Or even that Jagr’s determined seduction might very well be an elaborate scheme to lure her back to Chicago and into Darcy’s trap.

Sometimes a woman had to have her priorities in order.

And at the moment, Regan’s priority was satisfying the gnawing hunger that threatened to consume her.

As if sensing her capitulation, Jagr growled low in his throat, his hands skimming restlessly over her bare skin as he scattered tiny kisses over her face.

“Sweet midnight jasmine,” he muttered, his tongue outlining her lips. “Your scent drives me mad.”

Regan gave a small squeak as one roaming hand slid between her thighs to stroke through her growing dampness.

“That’s ridiculous,” she protested, breathless. “If I smell of anything, it’s damp cave and horseweeds.”

He crushed her lips in a searing kiss. “Always arguing, little one.” He moaned as his finger slid into her tight flesh. “Is it a compulsive need to keep me at a distance, or are you just quarrelsome by nature?”

Regan instinctively dug her heels into the black silk sheets as she arched her hips upward.

“If you weren’t always wrong, I wouldn’t have to…to…” Oh, Christ, his finger was creating the most delicious friction as he dipped it in and out of her. “To argue.”

His lips brushed over her cheek, then down the line of her jaw. “I’m never wrong.” He pressed a kiss to the pulse racing at the base of her throat. “Never.” His mouth trailed down her collarbone. “Never.” He covered the aching tip of her breast. “Never.”