Free Dark Solstice by Kaitlyn O'Connor

so fully that his wits, beyond that, deserted him entirely.
    * * * *
    Exhaustion wasn’t exactly conducive to clear thinking, but it had a way of sweeping aside deep emotion that tended to cloud a person’s judgment, Rhea thought wryly. After their latest stint on Mars she was obliged to admit, to herself at least, that she’d developed a growing, unhealthy fascination with Raathe.
    It would almost have been easier if she could’ve put it down to a physical, chemical attraction and the pleasure he’d given her. It certainly would’ve been easier if she could’ve maintained the illusion that she was only doing what she needed to to survive.
    It went beyond that, though, and she knew it, reached a point where she couldn’t deny it.
    John Raathe was not only the most fascinatingly complex man she’d ever met. He was a man tortured by his past and her growing certainty of that as a fact pulled at something inside of her that she’d never been aware of before—the need to give succor, the driving compulsion to try to heal the wounds he hid so well even while she called herself a complete fool for feeling such things.
    It was like feeling pity for a coiled serpent that had been wounded and was therefore twice as dangerous because of its pain.
    It gave rise to the anxiety that her trials had seriously undermined her reason.
    She’d always known she had a capacity for empathy for her fellow man. It was part of being human, part of what defined man from animal and not something she wanted to even try to crush, but neither had she tried to nurture it. Self-preservation dictated that a person be wary of giving that part of themselves too readily. Too many people were waiting to use that particular weakness to their advantage.
    A healthy dose of self-preservation certainly should’ve kicked in in this particular case, because she knew John Raathe didn’t really need or want that from her and that he was likely to crush it ruthlessly if he became aware of it—not use it against her. He not only had no need of it to get what he wanted from her, but she thought it very likely that he’d be more enraged that she’d detected any weakness in him at all than pleased that it had undermined her defenses.
    It was far too late, though, to try to shore up her barricades. He’d slipped under her defenses before she even realized they’d been breached, seducing her with the very weapon she’d thought to use against him, building a sense of trust and comforting familiarity with the light, pleasurable caress of his hands and lips.
    She was fully aroused before her mind even achieved consciousness that the tingling warmth spreading through her was real and not a dream, but awareness only heightened the warm lethargy to a blossoming of heated want. There was nothing furtive or tentative about his touch. Instead, there was surety in the hands stroking her, as if he knew every inch of her, every tiny patch of flesh that was exquisitely sensitive to his touch and just how to touch her to bring her the fullness of pleasure to be had.
    And there was tenderness in his touch that made her throat close with emotion even as it aroused the need in her to fever pitch. He nuzzled his face beneath her breasts, nipping at the soft underside before he caressed her lower, grazing the soft flesh at the juncture of her ribcage with his lips.
    “Amy,” he murmured huskily.
    It sent a jolt through her and into him. He paused for so long Rhea was certain he’d awakened, and then resumed his exploration with a ragged sigh that belied her presumption, teasing her breasts with the pull of his mouth until she descended once more into the sea of bliss he’d already created to suck her down.
    It didn’t banish the hurt that welled in her. Nothing could wash away that awful feeling that he wasn’t even aware of her, that he thought he was making love to his beloved Amy, but the desire remained and winding through it and the hurt was another emotion, another