After a steamy encounter with Asgard's Dark Prince unlocks her genetics, an unsuspecting scientist discovers not only are Gods real, she is one.
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When Shannon boards her flight to London, she's stunned her seatmate is actor Tod Mogroddine. Their...
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Those intelligent hazel eyes shot to mine as I lifted my head, pupils dilating as our gaze connected.
So very responsive.
I revelled in her obvious arousal, her reaction to my touch, to my explicit words. An image flashed in my mind of those expressive eyes glazed with passion, cheeks flushed, and mouth open, as I drove myself inside her. It was hard to hold myself back, to not take what I wanted immediately. Rarely did I deny myself once my interest had been piqued.
And this woman had definitively captured my attention.
Not only was she gorgeous with her flawless olive skin, long, brown hair with red and gold highlights, pert nose, and those kissable full lips, but our conversation was absolutely delightful. Good stories were one of my undeniable weaknesses. With a mischievous sense of humour and remarkable depths to her personality revealed through her adventures, my fascination grew the more time I spent with her.
Norns knew, it had been an eternity since a woman caught my interest in anything more than a superficial way. But whenever our eyes met, that spark of connection hummed between us. I couldn't resist allowing my thumb to flick over her peaked nipple again with her breast a warm weight against my hand.
A tremor quaked her body in a sensuous ripple of movement and a low whimper of need escaped that she attempted to stifle.
The sound made my rigid cock jump.
Fuck, she's killing me. So bloody perfect. Wait, I told myself, thankful her curvy ass was against my outer thigh so she couldn't squirm against my aching length. Never had it been such a fight to control my desires.
I was not a patient creature.
Yet delayed gratification had its own benefits, and the way Shannon responded to me promised to be spectacular. She was worth savouring—more than a quick, energy-boosting fuck in a first class airplane bathroom, only to be forgotten when the flight ended. Some instinct had me holding back, taking my time, despite how frequently my mind taunted me with the desires I held in check.
I worked to control my own fierce arousal, fighting my need. Reluctantly, I forced my hand to release her breast and returned my palm to her ribs. Despite her dilated pupils, I watched her rebuild her control as we panted, our faces a few inches apart. Her pulse fluttered under my fingertips, each frantic beat a siren's song to the inferno within me.
As her eyes lost the dazed, desire-drugged appearance, she spoke. "Talk about lightning in a bottle."
I growled at the analogy, not liking the reference in my present unreasonable frame of mind. Instinct and reason fought for supremacy within me as I squashed my rumble.
She started to apologize, and I relinquished the soft flesh of her throat to cut her off with a finger to her lips.
"No, don't you dare say you are sorry. This is on me. I'm hanging onto my restraint by a thread. I'm not sure I can keep from taking you right here. Let's watch something on the entertainment system, if that's acceptable."
