Free Kindred of the Fallen by Isis Rushdan

the seat. Spreading her legs with his hips, he pressed his body to hers, rubbing the bulge in his pants against her pelvis. Swooning from the weight of his body bearing down on her, she threaded her fingers in his thick hair. He subjugated her with his hot mouth, his rapacious tongue demanding more.
    His savage hands—intense yet in complete control—tugged at her clothes and swept through her hair. She ran her fingers along his spine and buttocks, bringing him closer. His thick erection pressed against her moist sex, their clothing an irritating barrier.
    Waves of his energy washed over and through her, merging with hers. She opened herself to him, ready to share all she had to give. His body hummed like a tuning fork made of chiseled flesh.  
    The vibrations of her energy attuned to the flow of his. Visceral threads stretched from her core, connecting them together through their current of energy, anchoring her to him.
    Ecstasy and lightness ballooned inside her, until her body was a buoy floating on pure energy. Pleasure blossomed in layers, deepening, rising…so close to a peak.
    “We’re home,” Cassian said, somewhere in the distance.
    She never felt the car stop and had no idea how long they’d been at a standstill. Her eyes fluttered open. Yearning left her breathless. Cyrus sat up, hovering over her.
    The young man peered at them through a crack in the partition. He must have been quite intrigued by what he saw. His entire body was turned toward them, his nose pressed to the glass.
    “Cassian, get out,” Cyrus said in a low, husky voice.
    The boy hopped out.
    Cyrus caressed her face, drawing closer until he kissed her, a quick brush of his mouth on her lips and cheeks. She wrapped her arms around his waist, running her hands up his back. His fingers slid her shirt up, baring her stomach.
    Her car door opened and bright sunlight intruded.
    She tilted her head back. Glaring light hit her, bringing her back to her senses. She jerked away from Cyrus, scooting upright while adjusting her clothes.
    A little talk of soul mates and she had completely lost her head.
    An attractive man with steely gray eyes scrutinized them. “Cyrus, the team is on the way here. We have to euthanize another with blood frenzy. The situation is dire. It can’t wait.”
    “All right, Abbadon. I’ll be ready by the time they arrive.”
    Chest heaving, Cyrus stared at her, his eyes wild with raw hunger like he wanted to gobble her up. Something told her she’d enjoy every nibble and lick.
    Tucked underneath the weight of his muscular body had been paradise, but impetuous. She had a fiancé. And Don Juan had a lot of questions to answer. Next time, dolling out mystical mumbo jumbo with his shirt off wasn’t going to cut it. Not when armed men had busted into her place, ready to drag her off for a brutal interrogation about him .

Chapter Seven
    Gripping the leather seat of the car, Cyrus leaned back, eyes locked on Serenity. He bridled the instinctive drive to shut the door for privacy and finish what he’d started. Hell, he didn’t even care that Abbadon was standing right there. He needed to touch her again, needed sweet release.
    Desire had welled up in him so fierce his body ached. A dull soreness pulsed through him. He was in pain. He’d been injured before, but not like this.
    The fibers of his muscles twitched, taut from restraint. Even his skin hurt. He reached out to bring her close, but she shrank back, head lowered and her gaze cast toward her lap. Why wouldn’t she look at him?
    “Cyrus,” Abbadon prodded. “There isn’t much time. Spero and Micah are on the way.”
    She curled her arms around her waist, but still wouldn’t meet his gaze.
    “What about the rest of the team?” Cyrus asked, staying focused on her.
    “I had to send the others to euthanize someone else.”
    Cyrus shot his gaze at Abbadon. “You split up the team?”
    “We received two calls for assistance within minutes of each other. I