Jewel of Atlantis

cloudy haze.

She was on the verge of orgasm. But he didn't want her to come without him, nor did he want to come without her. He moved to the edge of the pool, his every nerve on alert, his every cell heating.

'Jewel,' he whispered brokenly.

Her eyes slowly opened. 'Gray,' she said, and she didn't seem surprised or embarrassed to find him there. Her arousal had reached the point of complete consumption. It was all she could think about, all she could feel. 'What's happening to me?'

'You need a man. You need me.'

'Yes,' she said. 'Yes. Please.'

He jerked off his robe and tore off his military fatigues, his movements clipped and quick, desperate. He unstrapped the blades from his wrists, waist and ankles and dropped them to the floor with a thump. He should have forgone the arsenal after his bath, but hadn't. Now he cursed himself for the time it took to remove them, time he could be touching Jewel.

Finally he was naked, his erection jutting forward as he stepped into the water, liquid heat swallowing his ankles. He sank until the water hit his waist. Her gaze raked over him, and she moaned, arched her hips, her own fingers still working at her clitoris.

The time had come.

No more thinking about it, no more wondering if it was the right decision. No more worrying about their different worlds. All that mattered was the here and now. All that mattered was being with Jewel, if only for a little while.

He reached her, unable to go another second without her in his arms. He gripped her hand, her pleasure- giving hand, and placed it at the side of the pool. Next he spread her legs and stepped between them. He didn't enter her, though. No, he wanted to savor her first. Wanted to touch and taste her like he had in his vision.

But everything inside him screamed to rush, to take her now and take her hard.

'Were you thinking about me when you touched yourself?' he asked, amazed he could even get the words out. He was that hungry for her.

She nodded.

'What did you see in your mind?'

'Your mouth,' she whispered, 'tasting me.'

'Here?' His fingers circled her clitoris, and she gasped. He raised her pelvis, bent his head and licked her, sliding his thumb down and pressing it against her core. Her sweet, sweet taste tantalized him.

'Yes, right there.' The words emerged as little more than a moan.

If he licked her there again, she'd come. And he didn't want her to come yet. He wanted her to come on his cock. Rising up, he slid a finger into her hot, tight sheath. She felt so good, so damn good. He leaned down, and licked his tongue around one of her nipples, then the other, tasting the nectar of whatever flower flavored the water.

Her hands clenched the sides of the tub, helping to hold her up. 'Gray,' she panted. 'I feel so... hot. Make it stop. No, don't stop. I need more. No, no more. I have to taste you. All of you.'

Eyes wild, she rose over him and pushed him back against the tub before he could utter a protest. Not that he would. Then little Miss Prudence went down on him, sucking his length up and down, bringing her teeth and tongue into play, her hand cupping his ball sac.

Before his body completed the last spasm, he was hard again. Ready for her. Panting for her, as if he'd never come. As if giving her his semen had only been the appetizer. A sense of urgency built inside of him, beating against his usual need for leisure, about to unfurl completely. He always went slowly with women, always took his time, never allowed himself to be quick and hurried. But his blood was heating, near boiling, about to burst, and he suddenly wasn't sure of his control.

He climbed up her body. Water sloshed. His gaze strayed and lingered on her neck, at the pulse hammering there. His mouth watered. What would it be like to sink his teeth in her vein, to let her blood pour down his throat? He kissed his way between her breasts, lingered on her collarbone, then licked her neck.

She arched against him, writhing. Her hands flew to his back, squeezing him, scratching him. He was going to bite her... had to bite her... and he was going to do it while he filled her with his cock. He was disgusted with himself, but he couldn't stop the need from growing. He wanted to enter her and bite her at the same time, taking all of her, all she had to give. The need was so strong, he couldn't control it.

If he didn't bite her soon, he'd perish. If he didn't enter her soon, he'd perish. If he didn't spill his seed inside her soon, he'd perish. He had to have her, would have her, nothing could stop him.

'Tell me you're ready. Tell me you can take me.'

'Yes, yes. Now. Please now. Pleasepleaseplease.'

'Jewel. Mine.' He was just opening his mouth, just reaching down, gripping his erection, poising himself for entry, when he heard the door burst open.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 Protective instincts roaring to life, Gray fought through the cloud of lust encompassing his mind and jolted up. A feral rage burned in his chest, spreading, growing hotter. He hummed with it, vibrated with it, was savage with it. A low, bestial growl emitted from his throat.

Water splashed over the pool's edge as he leapt out. His breathing was harsh and ragged, and sweat trickled down his cheeks. Scowling, he grabbed two of his blades from the floor.

Jewel's eyes were glazed with passion and she shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She straightened, a look of horror lighting her features. Gray heard no footsteps, only the flutter of wings. He couldn't see past the screen in front of the bath, so had no idea who this unseen enemy was—an unseen enemy that would die painfully for daring to interrupt him.

'Where are they?' he heard a deep voice demand.

He immediately recognized the speaker. A Formorian he'd gambled with—and beaten—at the market.

Gray's gaze narrowed. He should have expected something like this, but he hadn't. His only concern had been the vampires and demons. And getting Jewel naked.

'What—'

'Shh,' he whispered to Jewel, handing her one of his knives. She took the offered weapon with shaky fingers. 'Stay here,' he mouthed.

He found another blade buried under his pants and hurriedly grabbed it. With every second that passed, his rage intensified. Yes, someone was going to die this night.

'Find the money,' the Formorian barked.

The sound of destruction rose, breaking wood, ripping fabric. He didn't know how many there were, but it was only a matter of seconds before they spotted him and Jewel behind the screen. He preferred to keep the action in the center of the room, away from Jewel.

Unconcerned by his nakedness, he crouched low and peeked from behind the screen, soaking in details. The Formorians used their wings to hold themselves up, their one leg reaching out and knocking everything down, their one arm holding a spiked club. There were five of them. Shit. Shit! He'd been in worse situations, but he would have preferred his gun.

As he crouched there, deciding the best way to attack, all of his sexual lust mutated into simple bloodlust. He went from white-hot to ice-cold in seconds. His mind shut down, focusing only on war and death. The thick metallic stench of Formorian blood enveloped him.

One, he mentally counted. Two. Three.

War cry blaring from him, Gray sprang from his position and attacked the nearest creature, determined tofight it the same way he'd fought the demons. He might not know these creatures' weaknesses but nothing could survive a slit throat.

Because of the element of surprise, he was able to grab the first one-armed, one-legged beast from behind. The creature jerked, hard, and Gray felt the wound in his thigh tear. Determinedly he gave a quick slash of his