Nick turned over in his bed, tangling one muscular leg in the covers. He groaned, sweat beading on his body.
She ran a finger down his chest as she curled up to him, her touch feather light. His chest burned as if she'd dragged a hot iron down him. He hardened, his cock aching for her touch.
"Hello, lover," she whispered, her voice throaty. Had the sirens sounded like that to the sailors? He shivered, knowing he'd willingly let her take him to his death.
"Hello," he moaned, fisting a hand in her hair, red silk against his fingers.
Their mouths joined in combustion. Her tongue sliding against his ignited his whole hot body.
While the first hand stroked her hair, Nick's other hand came up to palm her breast. He stroked a nipple, pebbling it.
She rubbed herself like a cat against him, almost like she marked him as her own. And he reveled in it, attempting to get as close to her as he could.
Her hand reached down to stroke along his cock. Mere caresses from her fingers, and he arched into her hand ready to spill.
He turned her over, his hand on her slim waist. "I need you now. Need to be inside you."
She didn't answer, but opened her legs to welcome him.
He thrust and almost came undone at the sensations of filling her. So slick. So inviting. So his. Like she'd been made for him. Who could this woman be? To do this to him. Make him about to spill like an untried boy.
Nick rocked himself against her. She took him as deeply as he could thrust, her body so warm and perfectly fitting.
His release approached. It hadn't been enough, not nearly enough loving her, but he couldn't hold it back.
Her arousal changed. From desire to unease. She studied him as if somehow puzzling him out.
Marcus's presence smacked him like a slingshot.
"What the hell?" Nick mumbled, sitting up in bed. His covers entangled his legs and hips. Sweat covered him, cooling in the air.
What the hell had happened?
The woman. From the funeral. He'd dreamed about her. Having sex. Then, Marcus's spirit had invaded. How could that be?
Nick sent out his feelers in every direction. Nothing. He had no sense of Marcus. Like it had been since he'd arrived in town. Yet in that dream, the connection had been clear.
He lay back in his bed. Too early to hunt. He didn't feel like going out in the day unless he had to. Made him too uncomfortable, and his powers lost strength.
This woman lit his passion like no one ever had. His cock, which had gone back to half-hardened, hardened fully. He palmed himself, seeking to ease it. How could it be possible to want someone so badly he'd only seen once and would probably never see again?
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