Laura Wright - Raphael/Parish

Her mouth went dry and she forgot her search for her missing phone. Instead her fingers went toward the lamp.

“Who are you?”

“No, don’t turn on the light.”

She shivered at the command in his voice. “Then answer the question.”

“Raphael.”

So, she hadn’t imagined knowing his name.

Christ. Did that mean the rest was true as well?

The thought should terrify her. Or at least infuriate her.

It sure the hell shouldn’t cause a treacherous heat to bloom between her legs.

“Just Raphael?” she rasped.

“Just Raphael.”

“Why are you in my room?”

There was a beat of silence, as if he was startled by the question.

“You know why.”

A sudden premonition stole her breath. “No.”

“You carry my child.”

“Shit.”

The panic that should have hit the minute she woke with a strange man in her hotel room belatedly thundered through Ashe. Without conscious thought she was shoving aside the sheet and preparing to leap off the bed.

She didn’t know where she intended to go.

She was naked, broke and currently homeless.

But anywhere had to be better than locked in a room with a lunatic.

There was no warning.

One minute she was struggling to untangle her feet from the covers and the next she was flat on her back, a heavy body pressing her into the mattress.

Oh…hell.

This was it.

Her dream.

Except in her dreams he was naked. Now his denims scraped against her upper thighs and a soft tee brushed the aching tips of her breasts.

Unbelievably the sensations were almost as erotic as the feel of his bare skin.

Or maybe not so unbelievably.

Even with a layer of clothing between them she could feel the searing heat of his body seeping into her, stirring her blood. And that musk…

How was a woman supposed to think clearly?

Her lips parted—whether to scream or moan she would never know—as his head swooped down and her mouth was taken in a savage kiss.

She gasped, shocked by the jolts of sheer pleasure that ravaged her body.

It was like being struck by lightning.

Dazzling. Electric. Stunning her with an instant need that made her pussy clench with anticipation.

She squirmed beneath him, pressing the aching tips of her breasts against the heat of his chest. Oh god. It felt so good.

With a groan, Raphael ripped his mouth from hers to bury his face in the curve of her throat.

“That smell,” he muttered, his nose lingered against her thundering pulse as his hands pinned her arms over her head.

His heavy legs held the bottom half of her body motionless, but even with her mind clouded by lust she realized that he was taking great care not to press any weight against her stomach.

The knowledge sent an odd flare of tenderness through her. A sensation that was far more disturbing than the desire pulsing through her blood.

Instinctively, she tried to put some distance between them.

“No.” A warning growl rumbled deep in his chest as he lifted his head. “Don’t move.”

Her hair rose at the prickles of heat that filled the air. “Are you going to hurt me?”

“No. But your struggles…” His golden eyes suddenly seemed to shimmer with a luminosity in the darkness. “Excite my animal.”

Those eyes.

Those magnificent golden eyes that had glowed with hunger as he’d ridden her with a rough urgency.

“Oh god, it was you,” she breathed.

“Yes.”

A surge of anger merged with her lust, forming a combustible combination.

“You’re right, you are an animal,” she snapped. “What kind of man drugs and rapes a helpless woman?”

He hissed in genuine outrage. “There were no drugs and there sure as hell was no rape.” He lowered his head until they were nose to nose, his breath a warm caress against her face. “You begged, ma chère .”

“A lie,” she muttered.

He brushed his lips over her cheek until he could whisper directly in her ear, his tone pitched high as he mimicked her words.

“Please don’t stop,” he breathed. “Please, please. I need your cock deep inside me.”

Her lips parted, but the protest died as she could hear the words in her own voice echoing through a dark room.

She had begged.

She’d even grabbed the steel-hard length of his cock to try and steer him to her sweet spot.

“It was the drugs,” she muttered.

He nipped her earlobe. “No drugs.”

A violent shudder racked her body, her legs spreading as he settled between them, the ridge of his erection pressing against her inner thigh.

“There had to be,” she insisted. “I don’t have sex with strangers. And even if I did I wouldn’t forget—”

Her words faltered as he did something with his hips that aligned his cock directly against her throbbing clit.

“Mind-shattering climaxes that left us both gasping for air?”

Her breath was wrenched from her lungs even as she dug her nails into the hands that gripped her wrists above her head.

“Stop it,” she moaned, wanting nothing more than to wrap her legs around his waist and rub herself to climax. This wasn’t her. She didn’t become hot and bothered just because some guy wanted to have sex with her. Even if he was a gorgeous stud who was built like a freaking Greek god. “You did something to me.”

“No, we did something to each other.” He caught her bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a sensual tug before nibbling at the corner of her mouth. “Something that shouldn’t be possible.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And that’s the problem.”

Hell, there were a whole lot of problems.

And this man making her go up in flames was the cause of all of them.

“Could you please get off me?” she demanded, lifting her hips as if she could actually buck him off.

His hands tightened on her wrists, his breath hissing between his clenched teeth.

“Stay. Still.”

Her heart halted as something seemed to shift behind his glowing eyes. An…awareness that was watching her with a feral hunger.

“Christ.”

He sucked in a deep breath, a muscle clenching in his jaw. “Listen, ma chère , we need to talk. But if you keep moving, I’m going to forget everything except my instinct to fuck you.”

Moisture gathered between her legs, a raw craving clawing through her.

“Don’t…don’t say things like that.”

“Does it excite you?”

Yes. God, yes.

She wanted to be fucked.

Here. Now.

She swallowed a moan.

“It disgusts me,” she forced herself to lie. “ You disgust me.”

His low chuckle brushed over her heated face. “Is that why you’re wet?” he teased. “Why you’ve got your nails dug into my hands as if you’re terrified I might leave before I satisfy that ache inside you?”

She shuddered. He was right.

It would be unbearable to be left to suffer the overwhelming lust that was spiking ever higher.

“God.”

“Shh.” He brushed a gentle kiss over her lips. “Right now I just want to talk.”

She refused to be comforted. “Before or after you drug me?”

“Dammit.” The austere beauty of his face tightened with annoyance. Then, with an obvious effort, he struggled to keep his temper. “Have you heard of the Pantera?”

She blinked.

Of all the questions she’d been expecting, that had to be at the bottom of the list.

“The beast-men who roam the swamps?” she asked in confusion.

His lips twisted. “I suppose that’s one way of describing them. What do you know?”

She shrugged. Like every child who grew up near the swamps she’d heard the stories of the strange beasts who were part man, part animal, who roamed the darkness.