Page 68 of Elite Metal: Warriors

He grinned. “That’s half the fun.”

Their gazes caught just then and held. Something passed between them. The crackling fire, the melting marshmallow treats, the world, wafted away. There was nothing but the two of them. Nothing but this moment.

Her heart thudded as he leaned closer. His attention flicked to her lips. His tongue dabbed out, as though he were anticipating…tasting her.

She leaned toward him in response, and her lungs locked as his breath caressed her face. No doubt they wanted to capture the essence of him and hold it in.

Their lips touched. It was light. Soft. Sweet.

So tentative. So tantalizing.

His taste trailed into her mouth. His tongue followed.

Passion howled between them, flared in a sudden blaze of need.

A clatter rose as he dropped his skewer, and she dropped hers, and they came together, chest to chest, in a rush. He clutched her shoulders with his hard hands and she wrapped herself around him, sinking her fingers in his hair and holding him close, wanting only more. More.

He sealed her mouth with his in a harsh tumult, consuming her, ravaging her, taking all she had and more.

He stole her breath. Her sanity. All her carefully honed logic. It all flew away, flew away in the face if his savage kiss.

Ah, but she was savage too. Hungry. She was wild for him.

As though a dam had broken—in each of them—a wave of excitement swept through, devastating all their walls, all their defenses, all their resistance.

He made a noise at the back of his throat, a little growl, and pushed her down on the floor and covered her with a scorching weight, a seething intent. His mouth moved in a damp trail over her cheek and to her neck. He nested there, nibbling and laving her, making her shiver and shake.

God, it was good. He was good.

He captured her breast, squeezed, and she moaned. Like a crazed thing, she tugged his shirt from the band of his pants and shoved her hands beneath it in a frenzy to feel him, flesh to flesh. His back was magnificent. The skin was warm and smooth—but for a few scars—and the muscles bunched and rippled to her touch. When she scored him with her nails, he groaned and rubbed against her.

His cock was hard, adamant.

Yes, something whispered in her soul.

Yes.

Yes.

“No.”

It nearly killed her when he wrenched away. She glared at him. “What do you mean no?”

He sat up and she followed suit. The look he sent her was wreathed in anguish. Regret. Determination. It was a combination that made her chest ache.

“We can’t.”

“Jesus. Why not?” Surely that wasn’t a petulant snap. But hell, she’d wanted him. Wanted this. With a hunger unlike anything she’d ever known. Maybe it was reaction to the events of the day. Maybe it was the bubbling craving for connection she’d been suffering for far too long. Or maybe it was just him.

Regardless, she wanted and she wanted badly.

“We can’t.” He stood and walked away, raking his hair. The sight made her want to weep and howl. “I can’t.”

She tried for humor. “I’m pretty sure you can.” His cock had wanted to…

He didn’t even look at her. He crossed his arms and stared at the wall, showing her his back. “I’m on a mission. I can’t get distracted.”

A distraction?