Skies of Steel: The Ether Chronicles

Author:Zoë Archer
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Avon Impulse
Published: 2012-09-30T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

* * *

FEVER BURNED IN Mikhail. It had started long ago, when he’d first kissed Daphne, setting him afire with the promise of what could be. He’d thought her dishonesty would have annihilated his desire for her, but that wasn’t the case. They had worked perfectly together tonight. He’d seen her intelligence, her bravery. She’d trusted him, and his own mistrust had slowly peeled away.

Need for her burned brighter than ever. His blood was already aflame from the night’s adventure, his control barely in check. And when he saw the hunger in her eyes, the same desire blazing through her, control snapped.

As they kissed, he took her mouth savagely, tasting her, drinking her deep. She met his kiss eagerly, her tongue stroking against his. The same boldness she’d shown in the vault was here, too, in the way they tangled like tigers, fighting for more, and more.

She rose up onto her knees and pushed at his coat. He readily shucked it. But that wasn’t enough. Skin to skin—that’s what they wanted. She tugged at the buckles of his waistcoat, and though he wanted to feel her hands on his bare flesh, he allowed himself the sweet torture of her fingers playing over him, the tease and frolic of her hands taunting him through the fabric.

He hissed in a breath when she dipped a finger between the buckles, stroking over the taut skin of his abdomen.

“Not a professorsha,” he said, hoarse, “but a tantalizing minx.”

Her smile was as ageless as Woman. “Always joy in the process of discovery.”

“Enough of process,” he rumbled. “Your hands on me. And mine on you.”

Buckles scattered as he pulled his waistcoat open, then threw it aside. Finally, he was bared to the waist. He turned to her, so they knelt and faced each other.

She softly gasped, and her eyes widened as she held herself still. He willed himself patience. Few people ever saw a Man O’ War. It had to come as a surprise to her, the way his body had been transformed and shaped by his implants.

“You’re … incredible,” she whispered.

His body was a weapon. Sometimes a lure to women. Until this moment, he’d cared only how it could serve him as a tool. But maybe it could be something more. Maybe … he could be something more.

Through her exploration, he changed. Her hands traced over the ridges of his stomach, the dips of muscle on his hips. There was power in her touch, his need brought higher and higher by it, his blood loud in his ears. She slid her palms up over his chest. Damn that he couldn’t feel her though the telumium implant that covered his right pectoral and continued up onto his shoulder. The admiration and amazement in her gaze was almost enough.

“Like armor,” she murmured. “But it isn’t rigid. And it gives off so much heat.”

“Keeps its flexibility when implanted.” He went to work on the buttons of her blouse. Keep your damned hands steady, Misha. But desire throbbed through him.

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