Free PhoenixKiss by Lyric James

sweet.”
    With her knees, she gripped him. “Please. Please,” she
begged on a whimper. Fire swept through her limbs, filling her with a restless
need. She wanted him inside her, pushing deep.
    “I’m not done. There’s more. Always more.”
    His arousal stroked her, made her buck off the bed, stole
her breath, until he finally sank himself inside her and filled her in a way
she’d never thought possible.
    He had the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen. When he
looked at her, she felt like the center of his universe. “My God. What are you
doing to me?”
    In her mind, she heard making you love me in his deep
timbre but his lips never moved. Why? She didn’t know. Was he projecting his
thoughts into her head? Was that possible? Was that what he wanted?
    She knew it was unlikely, knew that when this night was up,
she would most assuredly never see him again once she revealed his secret. He
wouldn’t want her love. He wouldn’t want anything to do with her.
    He ran his tongue up her neck, nibbled on her ear, moved to
her mouth and licked. Tugging at her bottom lip, he dipped his tongue inside,
stopped and groaned then tilted his head to her neck, where he stayed.
    Wanting to touch him, she pulled against the ties at her
wrists. She wanted to feel his sinewy muscle beneath the tips of her fingers,
curve her arms around his neck and pull him so close he’d never want to relinquish
her.
    “Let me go,” she whispered.
    His gaze went to hers. Her breathing was ragged, shaky. He
released her but locked his fingers with hers and raised them above her head.
    Jordan’s face was a mask of pleasure and pain, the cords of
his neck standing out, the muscles in his shoulders tense.
    “Kiss me,” she breathed, unable to tear her eyes off him.
    At that, he lowered his head back to her neck and thrust
powerfully, sinking into her, stretching and filling, an action that ripped a
helpless cry from her throat.
    “Kiss me, damn it,” she hissed at him again, her head
angling upward.
    But he still didn’t. Putting his forehead against hers, he
thrust into her again and again, leaving her gasping for air.
    Layla went over the edge, falling, careening, no landing in
sight. And Jordan leapt with her. A thundering cry ripped from his throat, his
head tilted to the sky, eyes closed.
    After he collapsed on top of her, he pulled her against him
and held her tight for a very long time.

Chapter Seven
     
    “This is a movie lover’s wet dream.” Layla stood back, hands
at her waist, staring at a wall of shelves filled with DVDs. “How many do you
have?”
    “A little over a thousand, I think, the last time I entered
the new ones into my database.”
    They were in Jordan’s theater room on the second floor of
his home. It was completely windowless and a giant one-hundred-and-ten-foot
screen took up one wall. The movies took up another. There were two rows of
theater seats, one about two feet higher than the other. All the walls were a deep
navy blue and so was the carpet.
    “You have a database?”
    “I keep a record of every movie I buy, yes.”
    Layla shook her head.
    “For insurance purposes.”
    “Sure. I, however, think you do it because you’re anal.”
    “You’ve been standing there for ten minutes. Pick one
already,” he told her as he made a huge batch of buttery popcorn on the
old-fashioned maker sitting in the corner.
    “How can I? There’re too many. I mean, this is like telling
a kid to pick out his favorite candy in a warehouse.”
    He laughed. “Either choose something or I will and you won’t
like it because it’ll have blood and guts and car chases in it.”
    She peered at him over her shoulder. “Hey, I don’t mind a
good action film.”
    “Good. Sit down then. I have just the thing,” he said as he
gave her the tub.
    “Oh, this smells heavenly.”
    She sat in the front row in the middle set of chairs and
pulled her legs up under her. After they’d showered, Jordan had given her a
pair of shorts,