A whisper of warm air slid over her. Her heart began to beat faster. She’d heard no sound, but that heat shouldn’t have been there. “Dante?” Slowly, she opened her eyes and turned around.
He stood in the doorway.
The water worked in the shower, but there was no curtain or door to shield her from his gaze. No protection.
If he could only remember . . . they’d been like this once before. Though it wasn’t like that scene had ended well—certainly not like the ending in her fantasies.
She yanked off the water. Fumbled for the towel that she’d found in the closet before getting into the shower. Didn’t waste time drying off. She just wrapped the towel around her body and hurried out of the shower. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”
He gave a grim nod. His gaze swept over her.
There was something about his stare . . .
Her hold tightened on the towel.
His eyes met hers. “I remember you.”
The whole room seemed to be getting warmer, and all of that heat was coming right from him.
“Please tell me that you remember the good stuff,” she whispered.
“You killed me.” Flat.
Crap. “That’s not the good stuff.” Cassie wanted to back away, but there was no place to go. The shower was behind her, and once again, Dante was between her and the only exit.
“I remembered . . . saying I should let you die . . .”
Still not good. “Okay, look, you might not believe this, but there are actually good memories that we share.” It hadn’t all been death and pain and fire.
Had it?
He stalked toward her. His hands reached out. Caught the edge of the towel.
“Dante?”
“I have all my memories of you. And some are so good”—the towel dropped to the floor—“that I want to have them again and again.”
She needed to hop back in that icy water.
“Siren.” His lips curled.
Wait. He was smiling.
“I remember the first time I had you naked.” His fingers stroked over her br**sts. Her ni**les were already tightening, aching, so sensitive. “I remember the little moan that you gave. It sounded just like—”
The moan broke from her. His hands were so warm and strong.
“That,” he finished in satisfaction. His head bent and he was kissing her. Driving his tongue into her mouth and making the lust that she’d tried to control grow so much stronger.
His fingers kept stroking her. Sliding over her flesh and warming her with every caress. Down, down his hand went, until those strong fingers were between her thighs.
His head lifted. “I remembered what you tasted like, everywhere.”
His fingers thrust into her.
She rose onto her toes and her fingers flew out, locking around his shoulders.
“I’d never had anything so good. I want it again.” His fingers were sliding into her, withdrawing, sliding in. “I want you again.”
His thumb pushed over her clit. That moan—oh, yes, it slipped from her again.
Part of Cassie hated that she needed him so much. Hated that she didn’t seem to have any power with him.
But, oh, she loved the way he could make her feel.
She’d shut her eyes. When had she done that? Her eyes flew open, and she stared at him. His cheeks were flushed, and she saw the phoenix lurking in his gaze.
“I remember . . .” he whispered.
She gathered her strength and pulled away from him. “I think it’s t-time to make new memories.”
Surprise flickered over his face. Surprise and uncertainty?
“Cassie . . .”
“New memories.” She wanted to make him lose his precious control. Maybe he didn’t feel the same emotions that she did, but he could feel the same reckless need that seemed to consume everything.
She eased to her knees in front of him, barely feeling the press of the tile against her flesh. Her hands reached out to him. She yanked open his jeans. His c**k was heavy and full, completely erect, and warm, just like the rest of him. Always so warm.
“You don’t have—”
“I want to make you wild.” She would make him that way. She wouldn’t be the only one lost to this need. Cassie put her mouth on him, hesitant at first, because she was uncertain.
But . . . he growled out her name and she heard the rough need in his voice.
Her mouth opened wider as she took more of him. Deeper. Her tongue licked over his shaft, then over the head of his cock.
She licked him again, savoring the taste of him that she could feel on her tongue.
His hands rose and locked around her shoulders. A shudder rippled over his body.
That was a good sign, right?
She tasted more of him. Her hand curved around his shaft, and she began to pump him even as her mouth slid over his cock. She could taste more of him, slightly salty, and she liked that. She liked him. Liked the way his fingers were curling ever tighter around her, and she liked the way—
“Cassie!” He roared her name.
Then he was lifting her up, swinging her high into his arms. His mouth crashed on hers. She sank her hands into his hair. She was wet and aching and wanted him in her.
He pulled his mouth from hers and began to kiss her neck.
Oh, yes, that was good.
“The bed,” she managed. “Get us to the—”
He pushed her against the tiled wall. And drove into her.
Not making it to the bed. That was fine.
Her nails raked over him as she let her own control rip away.
His hands slammed down behind her, and she heard glass shatter. Was that the mirror? Tiles?
Screw it.
She arched toward him.
The heat thickened in the bathroom. So did he. His c**k swelled inside her, and she pushed down eagerly, trying to take more of him.
Then he withdrew and slammed deep again.
“Dante!”
Her release was close, she could feel it bearing down on her. He lifted her higher, positioning her to take and take, and every thrust sent him pushing right over her clit.
She came, gasping for breath. Holding tight to him. But . . .
Dante wasn’t done.
“Not . . . enough . . .” His words were growled.
She couldn’t get a deep breath. She could only gasp and feel the pulses of her release coursing through her.
He was still in her. So deep and full. And he was carrying her out of the bathroom.
Finally, they were making it to the bed.
He lowered her onto the mattress. Caught her legs and lifted them up, opening her even more to him. “Need . . . everything . . .”
Her gaze was caught by the fire in his eyes. She’d wanted his control to shatter. It had. The beast was there, in his gaze, as desperate for release as the man.