Pure Awakening: A Novel of the Pure Ones (Novella) (Pure Dark Ones Book 7) by Aja James

Author:Aja James [James, Aja]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: paranormal, erotic, Romance, Fantasy
Publisher: Amazon
Published: 2018-12-12T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven: Resisting Temptation (Even Though I Really Want to Give In)

A fragrant heat cocoons me. I keep my eyes closed as I breathe deeply in and out, drugging myself with the intoxicating scent of dark spices and mysterious night, elusive and seductive, thoroughly male.

Utterly arousing.

It’s the “male” bit that makes me stir a little restlessly, my eyes squeezing more tightly shut as if I know I should wake up but I don’t really want to.

I turn my head to find a more comfortable position, and my nose and mouth graze against hot, satiny skin.

Skin that radiates a more concentrated version of the addictive scent, a deeper, more potent musk that I want to drown myself in.

Dalair.

I pop my eyes open and see nothing but darkness. So pitch black I can’t even see the hard, male chest pressed against my face. My nose is practically buried in the groove between his pectorals, but I can’t see him at all.

What—?

Memories of the abduction take that particular opportunity to catch up with me, and I yank my hands up beside my face and push as hard as I can.

I don’t get very far, maybe an inch at most, because a steely arm is locked behind my back, and a heavy thigh shifts on top of both my legs, securing the trap from below.

Something heavy and huge brands my hip with its searing heat even through the fabric of my T-shirt.

Instinctively, I want to grab it in my greedy hands and put it somewhere else, in the place where I’m empty and throbbing, so hollow it’s painful.

And then the rest of reality comes to me as well—Dalair appearing in the cavern after I came out of the bathroom, Dalair taking off his clothes, me passing out on the cold, damp ground, strong arms holding me…

Abduction.

Imprisonment.

Dalair but not really Dalair.

Clarity crashes through me like an icy cold tidal wave, dousing the lustful fires within.

Fight!

I have little room to maneuver for a good solid punch, and my legs are too tightly trapped to move. So I pull back and try to head butt him, while tensing my hands into claws and raking my nails as hard as I can across whatever patch of skin I can reach.

He pulls back just as my head rocks forward, enough for me to miss his face entirely. And even though I know I clawed his chest and neck hard enough to draw blood, not a whisper of pain escapes him.

Effortlessly, he shifts the arm beneath me to barricade my retreat, while the hand of his free arm captures both of my wrists, his fingers unyielding manacles I can’t tug out of no matter how I struggle.

I buck and wiggle in earnest now, a muffled scream of frustration boiling up my throat.

I’m not afraid, though maybe I should be.

Even soulless, he’s still Dalair. I don’t believe he’d ever hurt me. I can’t feel him giving off any violent or evil intentions.

I’m just plain pissed to be restrained by him.

But he doesn’t let me go, not even an inch.

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