Free A Lion After My Own Heart by Cassie Wright Page B

this powerful. "Why are you here?"
    I can't breathe. Why am I here? Why did I risk my life confronting his father? Why did I call him? Why did I dress up to go to that restaurant?
    I know why. And looking up into his eyes, I can see he knows too. "Because." My voice is less than a whisper. "Because I want to help you."
    Alexander lifts his hand to my hair, slides his fingers into my curls, and clenches his hand slowly into a fist. I gasp, though it doesn't hurt. He's got me under his control. He's so strong. He leans forward and I smell him, his masculine scent, clean and wild. His nose almost touches my cheek, and I can't move, I can't even turn my eyes to him. I stand there shivering as he draws in my smell, moving his face down my cheek, down my neck, causing goose bumps to rise up everywhere. Oh, dear lord, oh, save me from temptation, stop my hands, don't let me moan, don't let me collapse into him -
    "Tell me," he growls. "Why do you want to help me?"
    "Oh," I groan. There is no lying. No hiding anymore. Not from him. Not from myself. "I want you." My whole body wants him. Craves him. "Since I saw you. Standing alone. I wanted you. To understand you. To be with you. To love you."
    He growls again, the sound stirring my core, and his hand pulls my head back, raising my face to his as he straightens. His eyes are burning, inhuman. This man is a lion. This man is dangerous. This man has me at his mercy.
    "Are you sure?"
    And finally I see. He's holding himself back. Barely, like a man hanging above an abyss, gripping a ledge with just his fingertips.
    "Yes," I whisper, my need for him growing into a storm that throbs beneath my skin.
    Alexander drops his head, and his lips press against mine. I lean into him, my whole body melting against his hard frame, and his tongue slides into my mouth, dominating me, his hand in my hair pressing me to him, another hand moving to the small of my back.
    My passion flares up like a forest fire. I haven't made love to a man in years. And this man is unlike any other I've ever met. I want him in every way, any way, inside me, now. I moan into his kiss, succumbing to how good he is with his tongue. My nipples are aching under my top, aching to the point of being almost painful. Is this what kissing could be? I feel dizzy, lightheaded, like I can't feel the ground beneath my feet. I move my hands over his body, and oh, yes, he's as firm and muscled and ripped as Rachel promised.
    And his cock. It's rigid under his pants, thick and hard and rubbing against my belly. My lust pools in my core, and I kiss him with even greater fervor.
    He growls, a rumble that I feel deep within his chest, and he breaks the kiss almost savagely, pulling my head away to stare down into my eyes. His need is almost dark, almost violent, and I can tell that it comes from his misery, the pain that he's hidden over the years. This is a dangerous man. Beneath his sophisticated, gentle exterior is a king, wounded and alone. And I'm giving him a chance to finally come back out into the light.
    "I'm going to fuck you, Myra Cole." His voice is rough, but oh, it's music to my ears. "I'm going to fuck your perfect body till you can't take it anymore. Last chance. Last chance to walk out the door."
    I have a fleeting moment where I think journalistic principles , but fuck it. I've never felt so alive. So vulnerable. So aware of my body, and of a man's.
    "Take me," I whisper, afraid, overcome with a need of my own. "Take me now."
    His growl is loud, almost a snarl, and he places both hands around my waist, lifts me with ease, and with three strides has me pinned against the wall. I gasp, and then his face is buried in my neck, kissing the hollow behind my ear, voracious, down to my clavicle, then to my lips. He's consuming me, but I have a hunger all my own, and I kiss him with equal fervor.
    "I've wanted you," he says between kisses. "Since I first saw you."
    My hands are on his chest, pulling apart his buttons. He interrupts