Free Prince of Air and Darkness by Jenna Black Page A

caution into the background and let her wild side—a side she wasn’t even sure she had—out to play.
    Hunter let out a frustrated sigh and withdrew his hands, resting them lightly on her shoulders. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I’m afraid I got a little carried away.”
    A shiver shook her entire body, and she took a step back from the edge. She was still wet, her nipples still hard, but the hazy, out-of-control feeling was fading. What was happening to her?
    To her amazement, Kiera felt tears building in her eyes. She tried to fight them off, but she had no more success against the tears than she’d had against the lust. Her shoulders began to shake and she felt Hunter’s sudden tension in his hands.
    “Are you crying?” he asked in a voice that sounded absolutely appalled.
    She wanted to deny it, but her throat was too tight and clogged, and she sniffled loudly instead. Hunter’s arms swept around her in an embrace that held none of the smoldering sexuality of his previous touches.
    “Oh, Kiera, please don’t cry,” he begged. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
    The anguish in his voice reminded her that she was overreacting. Badly. After all, he had stopped the moment she’d asked him to. It certainly wasn’t his fault that she lusted after him in ways she didn’t understand. And it wasn’t as if she were some blushing virgin. Really, what would have been the harm if he had felt her up? How ridiculous that she was in tears!
    “Don’t be sorry,” she said. Her voice was hoarse, but she was reining in the tears. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me these days. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
    He sighed again. “Yes, I did.”
    Hunter didn’t elaborate on that mysterious comment, and moments later the lights came back on. He helped her to her feet and held her coat for her. She was so humiliated by her overreaction she could barely look at him. The elevator groaned back to life, starting its slow ascent once more.
    Hunter cupped her chin in one hand and raised her head. His brows were drawn together in concern, and there was something haunted-looking in his deep blue eyes as he used his other hand to brush the remaining tears off her cheeks. His jaw set firmly, and he looked grim.
    “I’ll never do that again,” he promised her. “I’m very sorry.” She tried to speak, to tell him he had no reason to be sorry, but his fingers moved from her cheek to her lips to silence her. “It was unconscionable of me to take advantage of you under the circumstances.”
    Kiera gently freed herself from his grip. “You didn’t do anything, Hunter. Don’t worry: I won’t be traumatized for life by what you almost did.” She forced a smile as the elevator came to a stop on the ninth floor. She didn’t think it was very convincing.
    Hunter gathered his coat from the floor, draping it over his arm. He paused for a moment in the doorway, staring at her with an intensity that made her nervous. The elevator tried to close on him, whining when the door hit him in the back and was forced to retreat. With a faint shake of his head, he stepped into the hall.
    Kiera told herself not to read too much into the strange blend of relief and regret that flooded her when the doors closed behind him.
    ****
    Hunter sat heavily on the plush couch in his living room, staring at the intricate pattern of the Persian rug at his feet. His heart felt like a lump of lead in his chest. In his mind’s eye, he kept seeing the shimmer of tears in Kiera’s eyes. His hands remembered the feel of her under them, remembered the terrible shudder that had seized her when she’d yet again shrugged off the glamour.
    He had had her, her mind so fogged by desire that she would happily have let him screw her right there on the floor of the elevator. His cock instantly swelled and hardened at the thought. Even when she’d stopped him, she’d still been heavily in the grip of desire. All he’d had to do was pour on a