Burning Desire by Donna Grant Page A

prickle with awareness, appreciation.
    Soul-sucking desire.
    The dragon took up most of Kiril’s impressive chest. It looked as if it were climbing his chest with its wings half-spread and the tip of his long tail curling to the left side and disappearing into his slacks. The head of the dragon, inked on his right shoulder and neck, was lifted toward Kiril, as if seeking him.
    She raised her eyes to Kiril and sucked in a breath when the heat, the hunger of his gaze slammed into her. It was scorching, searing. Sizzling.
    It wasn’t as if she hadn’t experienced desire before, but whatever was happening between them was on another level completely. The intensity of it frightened her. Yet she couldn’t leave no matter what her mind cautioned her to do. Because she wanted him with a desperation that bordered on insanity.
    Shara couldn’t draw enough breath into her lungs. She ached, she burned.
    She yearned .
    His heat only fueled her growing passion to new heights. As dangerous as it was, she grasped it with both hands and held on.
    Shara gradually caressed her hand up his washboard stomach, over his hard chest to his thick shoulders just as she had done to remove his jacket. Except this time there was nothing between her and his skin. She wanted to see more of that sun-bronzed skin and feast her eyes on his virile form.
    She pushed his shirt over his shoulders and down his arms to join his jacket on the floor. He wore the suit like a man born to it. It had hinted at the physique beneath, but nothing could portray his incredible form like the man himself bare of everything.
    What madness it was for her to think she could seduce a man like Kiril. He exuded sex and sensuality as if he created them for his arsenal alone. He was the one who had seduced her—with a single look.
    Why it had taken her until that moment to realize, she wasn’t sure. In the confines of his house, in the heat of his nearness, her worries and concerns about her family and future crumbled away. She looked into his eyes and became powerless, impotent to think of anything other than him.
    Finally he touched her. Shara couldn’t stop the shiver of anticipation that ran through her nor the sigh that escaped past her lips. His smug smile only made the desire burn brighter.
    His hand slid around her neck to the back of her head where his fingers closed in her hair. He tugged her head back at the same time he pulled her forward so that her breasts scraped against his chest.
    Shara was breathless, panting as she anxiously waited for what he would do next. All the while she lowered her hands to the waist of his slacks. The feel of his thick arousal against her stomach had her reaching for his cock. She wrapped her fingers around his rod through his pants and squeezed.
    He yanked her head back farther, causing her back to arch and her breasts to push against his chest. Shara watched the desire darken his features, watched the passion take him in its grip.
    She ran her hand up and down his length twice before she unfastened his trousers. His pants hung precariously on his trim hips as she slipped her hand down the front to once more wrap her fingers around him.
    He was velvet and steel, fire and fervor.
    With one hand on his cock, she reached around and rested her other hand in the middle of his back. She held there for a moment before she leisurely stroked downward until she reached his rock-hard ass.
    He lowered his head, his gaze locked with hers. Their breaths mingled, their bodies touching from thigh to chest. Shara tried to raise her head to his lips, but he wouldn’t release his hold.
    Her lungs seized, her body tingled when he hovered his lips above her, just grazing her mouth.

 
    CHAPTER SEVEN
    Kiril was singed inside and out, and he had yet to claim Shara as he longed to do. She touched him, touched his tat, and it set him on overload. Her breathing was erratic, her skin flushed, and yet she was nowhere near as aroused as he wanted her—nay,