The moment the last word left her mouth, he fit his lips directly over hers. She cried out, and he caught the sound. His eyes tightly closed as his entire body clenched and bowed.

A part of her soul ripped out of her body and into his. Instantly the void filled with his essence, sweeping through her like wildfire. The exchange was powerful, wholly erotic. Her stomach heated and tingled, and she lay there, panting. The fine hairs on her body clamored for him.

"What happened?" she asked between breaths.

"Our joining."

No more needed to be said because she understood. They were joined, not physically-not yet-but joined in a way that was even more tangible. Undeniable. She didn't understand the implications or mechanics of it. They were not two separate ent.i.ties.

They were one. She'd needed him before, but now she would die without him. She sensed it, knew it in the deepest part of her being.

"I am nothing without you," he said, echoing her thoughts. "Do you feel how much I hunger for you?"

She did. G.o.d, she did. His hunger mingled with her own, purring within her veins.

"You are more important to me than air," he said. "More important than water. You, Grace, are my only necessity."

"I love you," she said, at last giving him the words in her heart. As she spoke, the contentment that had always remained elusively out of reach was suddenly there and hers for the taking. So grasp it she did, holding Darius closer. He encompa.s.sed everything missing from her life: danger, excitement, pa.s.sion.

Fire flashed in his eyes. Reaching back, he peeled his shirt over his head. "I'm going to give you everything you crave, sweet Grace. Slow and tender now." His lips lifted in a fleeting smile. "Hard and fast later."

Antic.i.p.ation shivered through her. She threaded her palms up the strength of his chest, over his ribs and nipples, over his tattoos.

He sucked in a breath. His tattoos were slightly faded, not as red and angry as before, but still there. Still s.e.xy and warm. Her mouth watered for a taste of them, and she rolled him onto his back. Leaning down, she licked a path along the colorful dragon wings, savoring the salty taste. His muscles jumped at the first stroke of her tongue.

He slithered his hand between her legs and played; the fabric of her jeans created a dizzying friction. She moaned, arched her neck, and became lost in the breath-takingly sensual caress. Everything within her sprang to life, even places she hadn't known existed, starved for more of his attentions. She ached to be filled. By Darius. Only Darius.He claimed he had done horrible things, but deep down she hungered for that fiercest part of him. For the wildness. The danger.

She might have tried to deny it upon occasion, but she'd always known the truth. He was her every fantasy; his presence alone offered her more excitement than any challenge or adventure. When she was with him, she felt whole. She felt alive.

She felt vital.

"I want you naked." Darius didn't wait for her response, couldn't, impatient for her as always, he did exactly what he'd done before. He gripped the neck of her shirt and ripped. Underneath he found lacy green fabric, her s.e.xy belly ring and a light outline of a dragon tattoo.

He traced the edges with his fingertip. "Look," he told her.

Lost in sensation as she was, a moment pa.s.sed before she obeyed. When she did, she gasped. "What the-I don't understand.

I have a tattoo." Shock dripped from her tone, and her stunned gaze went from the tattoo, to him, to the tattoo. "I've never gotten a tattoo in my life."

"You bear my mark," he said, rolling them over once again and easing her down. "I am a part of you forever."

He tore the green material in half, just as he'd done to her shirt. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were lush and lovely, and the sight of them made him tremble. Tremble like a boy. He palmed one then the other, loving the way her eyes closed and her back arched, a silent entreaty for him to continue. He moved down her body and sucked a nipple into the hotness of his mouth. She gasped his name like a reverent prayer.

He sucked harder.

"Oh, G.o.d," she groaned.

Her knees clenched around his waist; her hands gripped his hair. He continued to knead one glorious breast, abrading the pearled nipple between his fingers while he laved and sucked the other. Like raspberries, they were, pink and rosy, sweet and delicate. One of his hands gravitated to her belly, fingering the delicate silver loop.

All the while he teased himself between her legs. She moved wildly against him, then with him. When she was gasping incoherently, he jerked at her shoes, then her pants, tugging them down and kicking them from her ankles with his foot. The sight of her, lying under him in only a pair of lacy emerald panties, nearly made his heart stop. Such beauty. His beauty.

He drove his fingers past the delicate lace and found the silken heat of her. She was wet and hot. Ready. But he wanted her beyond ready. He wanted her desperate. Using the tip of one finger, he smoothed her moisture over her soft folds, gently grazing the center of her desire.

"Yes," she said, curving into his touch. "Yes. Touch me there."

"You need to be filled, Grace."

"Yes. Please."

He slowly sank one finger inside her, then another. "Are you ready for more?" A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. He bit her neck, making a small sting, then he licked it away as he thrust those fingers in a delicious rhythm.

She cried out and lifted her hips. His shaft strained for her, but he worked another finger inside her. How he loved the feel of her tightness. Her moist heat. Soft, mewling sounds escaped her lips when he circled his thumb around her c.l.i.toris.

"I'm ready," she said. "I promise I'm ready."

With a growl, he latched on to her mouth and drank from her. He didn't deserve her, but the G.o.ds had given her to him and he was going to do everything within his power to make her happy. She would never regret giving herself to him.

"I want to kiss you here," he said, again circling his thumb around the very heart of her wetness.

Her eyes closed in surrender. As generous as she was, his Grace wasn't content to take pleasure only for herself; she insisted on returning it. "I... want to kiss... you here," she said, between panting breaths, slipping her own hand between them and cupping the long, thick length of him. "Who gets to go first?"

Those beads of sweat grew into a fine sheen over his entire body. She craved excitement, he thought, and so he would give it to her. "We will both go first."

Her tongue shot out and traced her own lips, taking in the residual taste of himself he'd left behind. "Really? How?"

In a total of two seconds, he removed his pants, then her panties, leaving them both completely naked. He gathered her into his arms and settled on his back, placing her on top. He'd never given a woman a chance to take him in her mouth. Picturing Grace's red curls spilled across his abdomen, over his thighs and c.o.c.k, picturing her teeth grazing his length and her mouth sucking him deeply, nearly made him come.

"Straddle me," he said, surprised he still possessed a voice. His need pounded through his veins. "Do not face me. Face the other direction."

Her nipples pebbled further, and she gazed down at him with an expression of utter longing. Slowly she did as he instructed. Her back was long and slender and perfectly proportioned. He caressed a fingertip down each vertebra, and tiny b.u.mps of pleasure appeared on her skin.

He clasped her hips, tugged, scooting her closer and closer to his waiting mouth.

"Now lean over," he instructed.

Languidly sensual, she moved her mouth toward his thick erection. Her warm breath fanned his heavy t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es as he lifted his head and licked into her slick heat.

At that first contact, Grace screamed her pleasure. Not an o.r.g.a.s.m, but close. So close. Her hands clenched Darius's hips. He continued to lave her, and she inched the thick length of him into her mouth-and almost screamed again. The eroticism of having his shaft nestled in her mouth while Darius tasted her very essence proved earth-shattering.

"This is what I meant when I said I wanted to eat you," he rumbled, the vibrations resonating into her.

His words and actions combined, bringing her swiftly to a torturing climax. Her body jerked and quivered as a thousand lights sparked past her mind. Pleasure, so much pleasure. She tore her lips from him as his name ripped past her throat. "Darius, Darius, Darius." The heat of it branded.

When her climax faded, she should have been sated, completely fulfilled. But she wasn't. She wanted him buried deep inside her, so deep he'd leave his mark on her for days.

Desperate, Darius lifted her and spun her toward him. He tumbled her over and gazed down at her. "Now?" The word emerged hoa.r.s.e and eager. Frantic. He needed to be inside her.

She spread her legs wide, fitting his hard length where it belonged, almost-but not quite-at the sweet edge of penetration. "I'll always be ready for you."

"You're my woman. Say it."

"I'm yours. Now. Always.""And I am yours." He slanted his mouth over hers at the same moment he impaled her. He cried out at the joy of it, the heady bliss, his enjoyment so intense his wings burst unbidden from his back, stroking a heated draft over their bodies. His majestic wings stayed suspended in the air for a breathless moment, two deceptively sheer extensions that at last lowered, surrounding him and Grace in an iridescent coc.o.o.n.

Shocked, he stared down at her. Her eyes were closed, and her lips pressed together. Instead of a pained cry, she murmured in surrender.

For Grace, the sharp pain of virginity left as suddenly as it appeared, leaving only the thickness of him. The hardness.

"You are... this is... I am your first lover," he said, when the realization struck him. "Only lover." A possessiveness more potent than o.r.g.a.s.m shuddered through him.

"Don't stop," she said. "Mmm. You feel so good."

"Your only mate," he said with awe. He moved slowly at first, but that wasn't enough for her. She gripped his hips, raised her own and ground herself into him. He needed no more encouragement. He clasped her bottom and pumped into her, over and over, again and again.

He rode her hard, unable to slow. His kisses grew fervent, plunging in sync with his powerful thrusts. Exquisite tension held her in its grasp, held tighter, tighter, then suddenly exploded, gifting her with the most shattering gratification she'd ever experienced.

She shuddered with it, gasped and screamed with it.

"By the G.o.ds, you are sweet," he said through clenched teeth. Anchoring her legs atop his shoulders and sending him deeper inside her, he quickened his strokes further and joined her, chanting her name.

Unexpectedly she climaxed again.

Darius carried Grace to bed and neither of them rose for several hours.

He wanted to spend the rest of his life right here in her arms, her plump backside nestled against him, but knew that wasn't meant to be.

Midnight had settled over the land.

Moonlight crept through the windows, its silvery fingers intertwining with darkness. The city pulsed with life, even at this later hour. Time to leave. Still...

He allowed himself a few more minutes of quiet luxury, of holding Grace in the protective shield of his embrace. Her intoxicating scent surrounded him, and her warmth seeped into his bones. Virgin. She had been virgin. This beautiful, sensuous creature had given him what she'd given no other man.

She was a treasure more rich and satisfying than any other. He would protect her with his life.

"Darius?" she sighed, snuggling closer.

"Hmm?"

"Are we married? I mean, we didn't sign anything or-"

"We are joined. Never think otherwise.""I'm glad." She eased up on her elbow and offered him a satisfied smile.

"As am I," he said.

"What we did-I don't think there's even a word to describe the bliss."

He nipped the softness of her shoulder with his teeth. "I meant to go slowly, wife, meant to savor you."

Her eyelids fluttered down. "Say it again."

"I meant to go-"

"No. The part where you called me your wife."

His arms tightened around her. "We belong together, wife."

She rolled onto her side and faced him. "Just so you know, I happened to like it the way you gave it to me, husband."

His c.o.c.k should not have stirred for hours-perhaps days-but as he looked at her and basked in her words, need unfurled through him. If they did not get up, he would take her again, and he knew he wouldn't have the strength to leave afterward.

"Get dressed," he said, patting her bottom. "Time for us to visit Jason Graves."

Grace lost her dazed expression. The sensual reprieve ended as real life intruded. She lumbered to her feet and stumbled to her bathroom. Wincing at the soreness of her body, she took a quick shower and slipped on a pair of black pants and a matching black, short-sleeved shirt.

When she glanced up, Darius stood in the bathroom doorway, watching her through intense, golden eyes. Golden eyes! Her pulse fluttered in time with a single thought: he is my husband! His pants hung low on his waist, giving him a s.e.xy, rakish air.

She found herself taking a step toward him, intent on slipping her fingers beneath the black material and-she stopped that line of thought before it was too late. Before she lost herself in him.

He didn't appear aroused in any way. He looked... pained, like that strange weakness afflicted him again. Proud as he was, he didn't say a word.

"Come with me," she said. She led him into the kitchen. There, she hurriedly fixed him a sandwich, and once he finished eating, he leaned back in his chair. He looked the same. Why hadn't that helped? She frowned and took his hand, meaning to gauge his temperature. But as she held his palm in hers, his color returned. It wasn't food that strengthened him, she realized, but her. Her touch.

"You have to tell me what's going on," she said, holding his gaze and retaining her grip on his hand. "What causes your illness?"

When he remained silent, she persisted. "Tell me."

He sighed. "When the G.o.ds banished us to Atlantis, they bound us irrevocably to the land. Those that try to leave, die."

Her stomach twisted, and her body went cold. If staying here meant his death, she wanted him gone. "You have to go home.

Now." She allowed all of her concern, all of her anguish at the thought of his demise, to seep into her voice.

"I will return in the morning as planned."

"I'll search Jason's home on my own, then fly to Brazil. I can be in Atlantis in two days."

"No. On both counts.""But-"

"No, Grace."

She had to convince him to leave. But how? She released him and began cleaning away the dishes, keeping her back to him. In seconds, he was directly behind her, holding her captive between his arms.

"You are upset," he said.

She paused, saying, "I'm scared for you. I'm scared for Alex. I want this to be over."

An undercurrent of menace suffused his voice when he said, "Soon. Very soon."