Donna Grant: Midnight's Temptation

As always my thanks goes first to my brilliant editor, Monique Patterson. I’m so very blessed to be working with such a wonderful person, and talented editor.

To everyone at St. Martin’s who helped get this book ready, thank you.

To my extraordinary agent, Louise Fury. It’s been an amazing ride so far!

A special note to my assistant, Melissa Bradley. Thanks for everything you all do. You make my life easier, and for that, I owe you so very much.

A special thanks to my family for the never ending support.

And to my husband, Steve, my real-life hero. You made me laugh the first time we met, and you’re still making me laugh all these years later. Thank you for the love you’ve given me, for the laughter you brought into my life, our beautiful children, and the happily ever after life I always dreamed of. I love you, Sexy!

Late August

He tangled his fingers in her long, thick, ebony tresses, her sighs of pleasure making his blood singe his veins. Her feminine curves were a heady delight to a man starved for her.

Golden skin speaking of Spanish heritage and as smooth as satin called him to touch more of her. He lay on his side, her body pressed against him. His hand glided past the indent of her waist and over a gently flared hip down to her thigh.

Her legs parted instantly. His lungs seized when his fingers delved into the black curls, trimmed and partially shaved, hiding her sex.

“Please,” she whispered.

Her voice, seductive and low, beckoned him, urged him. And he wasn’t going to disappoint.

He groaned, his cock swelling even more, when her back arched and her nails dug into his shoulders. Her breathy sighs filled the room as he caressed the sensitive flesh of her sex.

It wasn’t until she shook from need that he finally dipped a finger inside her. He ground his teeth together at the feel of her slick heat.

She was everything he wanted and more, so much more. To finally have her in his bed, to have his hands on her … it was almost too good to be true.

Her eyes opened, and he looked into dark pools of desire. She clung to him, her lips parted as her hips rocked against him.

He rolled her onto her back and settled between her legs. She grinned up at him, daring him to take her. His arousal grazed her sex, causing her to gasp at the sensation.

He fisted his hands in the pillow and brought his raging body back under control. He would have her, but he wanted her screaming in pleasure first. Only then would he fill her with his cock.

With a dip of his head, he bent and closed his mouth around a turgid nipple. His tongue circled the peak before he began to suckle.

She cried out and held his head between her hands. He moved to her other breast and teased that nipple until she was writhing beneath him.

Now, now he would kiss down her body until his lips were on her sex. He would bring her to the brink several times before he allowed her to climax.

Then he would plunge inside her, have her legs wrap around him as he brought them to ecstasy.

He kissed the valley between her breasts, but before he could place another kiss on her sweet skin, she rolled him onto his back and straddled him.

His heart missed a beat. She was a magnificent sight with her wealth of midnight hair falling around her shoulders to lay alongside her full, tempting breasts.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly. He was caught in her fawn-colored gaze. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t in control of the lovemaking. She was.

And it thrilled him far more than was comfortable.

Her full lips tilted up in the barest of smiles. A smile that said she knew exactly what she was doing to him. And she loved it.

He swallowed heavily, his rod jumping with anticipation. His balls tightened when she reached down and took him in hand. Somehow he kept his hands in the sheets, fisted tightly. Sweat broke out over his body as he fought to keep still for her.

Only for her. No other woman had ever commanded him in such a way, and he feared no other ever would.

She was on her knees, her entrance above his arousal while she ran her hands up and down his length. She was teasing him as he planned to tease her.

He’d never ached for a woman before. Not once had he hungered to have a certain woman in his arms. But she changed everything.

No longer could he hold off from touching her. He cupped her bountiful breasts and flicked his thumbs over her nipples. In response, she swirled her thumb over the head of his shaft.

He groaned and lifted his hips. His cock came in contact with the soft folds of her sex, and his control snapped.

As if she knew he had gone over the brink, she lowered herself onto him. He was mindless, feral with need. With a jerk, he pulled her down as he raised his hips until he was fully seated inside her. She groaned, her head thrown back and the ends of her hair brushing his thighs.

For a second, he couldn’t move. Her tight, slick walls held him suspended between agony and pleasure, torment and release. He knew in that moment that she commanded his body.

His fear was that her reach would extend past his body to his heart, or worse—his soul.

With his heart hammering in his chest, she began to rock her hips. He closed his eyes to feel every delightful, perfect minute of her.

There was a slight thumping that intruded upon him, but he was determined to ignore it. He rolled over, taking her with him. He lost her in the blankets. Panic seized him as he searched, only to find himself clutching a pillow instead of her soft body.

Phelan opened his eyes to the pillow and flopped onto his back. He threw an arm over his eyes as his cock ached for relief.

“Fuck,” he ground out in vexation.

The dreams he was having of Aisley intensified every night, leaving him aroused and unsatisfied no matter how many times he tried to pleasure himself afterward.

He had been on her trail for almost two months now. He still wasn’t sure why he let her walk out of that nightclub after he first kissed her.

He hadn’t expected her to run. Women didn’t run from him.

But Aisley did.

That was part of why she intrigued him, but it went beyond that. She was different. That one kiss they shared had rocked him to his very core. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Or wanting her.

His mobile phone vibrated on the bedside table. Phelan pondered not answering it, but he knew they would only call again.

“What?” he demanded as he answered the call.

“What the hell is your problem?” Charon’s voice asked with a note of irritation.

Phelan rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He hoped the call would cool his ardor, but if it didn’t, another cold shower to start the day would. “It doesna matter. What’s the reason for the call?”

The pause on the other end of the line had Phelan glancing over at the clock. The bright green lights staring back at him told him it was 2:33 in the morning.

“Charon,” Phelan urged as the silence grew.

“We’re getting desperate,” Charon said tightly. “There’s been no sign of Jason.”

Jason Wallace. The very reason Phelan had to take extra time away from tracking Aisley. Jason was a drough , a Druid who gave part of his soul to the Devil in order to use black magic.