DescriptionFlint McCallum is a man on the edge of darkness, Pandora Paige a selfconfessed free spirit who helps guide troubled souls toward the light. Flint doesn’t believe in magic, but the mystic Pandora challenges the very beliefs on which his life has been built. These polar opposites are destined to join together in a blaze of passion that Pandora hopes will blast away the darkness keeping Flint captive. But as she becomes more deeply ensnared in his magnetic personality, how will she protect her own heart from the dangerous allure of the dark?
Reader Rating: Not rated (0 Ratings)
Sensuality Rating: Not rated
Excerpt:She closed her eyes, bracing herself for his touch, then gasped in shock when she felt the caress not against her skin but deep, deep inside. “How?” Her eyes flashed open and she saw his fingers tracing a rhythmic line up and down her sculpture.
“This is metal. It should be cold,” he whispered. “But it feels warm to the touch, like soft silken skin kissed with moisture. I don’t believe in magic, Pandora. But… you feel it, don’t you? Somehow you feel…this.”
He leaned over and pressed his lips to the metal and she moaned as her imagining became reality. Firm, yet gentle, delicate, but with a hard edge that ignited immediate heat in her womb. She’d known his lips would feel that way. But it wasn’t enough.
His lifted his head. “I want to kiss you. The real you.” The blunt statement, delivered in a voice that had thickened, left no doubt about her effect on him.
As if in a dream she nodded, and he slipped off the couch and knelt before her, forcing her knees wide as he insinuated his body between her legs. She could feel the corded strength in his thighs as they pressed against hers, and for a moment they stayed like that, his face with its sharp angular planes just inches from hers, his eyes dark, so dark, her breath coming in and out in shallow gasps as she inhaled the aroma of pending sex coming off both of them. Her breasts ached for release as he loomed over her, silent and dark and infinitely exciting.
Then his hands came around and gripped her buttocks, pulling her forward on the couch until her soft mound was pressed against his hardening core. “I want you so bad I feel like I’m going to explode.” The words growled out of him, and she whimpered in response.
The hands cupping her behind tightened, pulling her closer, rocking her against his manhood, the layers of clothing between them as nothing against the heat and the hardness and the craving.
Spirals of aching desire coiled out from her womb, echoed in the tip of her breasts and grew, until she was panting and on fire with need.
“Do you want me to kiss you, Pandora?”
“Yes,” she gasped. “Oh, yes.”