Pan's Salvation by Shyla Colt Page A

were never satisfied. Stop thinking and do what I told you. Pretend this is me inside of you, filling that, tight, wet, pussy. You want to fly little bird…You’ll have to use your wings.”
    Desperate for relief, she shoved convention into the back of her mind and rolled her hips. A cry of pleasure spilled from her lips. The sound of his ragged breathing, the squeak of bedsprings and the intense feeling of pleasure combined. She came hard. A blinding explosion of white burst beneath her lids and she flew to freedom.

    In the throes of passion, his woman was beautiful. His. Somewhere along the way, he started to think of the dark-skinned beauty as his property. It began as a ruse and quickly become more.
    Her muscles locked onto his fingers and she thrashed on the bed, completely out of control. He decided he liked her acting out of hand. She fell back on the bed and he eased his fingers out bringing them to his mouth. Her taste coated his tongue. He growled his approval. Here was a flavor he could sample again and again.
    Other women bored him. Pan kept them until they were no longer useful, or they wanted
    more than he could give. That wasn’t the case with Lark. She fascinated him and touched a part of him that’d been long forgotten. The day he and Hayes placed a tombstone on an empty grave for their mother, he hardened his heart to anyone not his twin or his Dueling Devils family. It’d been easier that way.
    The guilt he carried on his back for starting the fire when he was a teen, wouldn’t allow him to commit to anything else. It’d be so easy to climb between her legs and slip inside her. But something held him back. When they came together, it wouldn’t be due to lowered inhibitions. It would be because she begged him for it. He spread her legs wider and moved his head between her legs. He licked a path up her center and savored her moan.
    Tonight, he would show her exactly what he could offer her.

    Pan leaned against the wall across from the door and watched Lark do her mini laps. She would walk from the door to his side and back.
    Manuel and his men would arrive any minute to deliver Robin. It made him nervous that the businessman was actually making an appearance. The gun on his waist did very little to reassure him of his safety.
    It was all up to his brothers in the other room listening to everything, via spy equipment their technical guru; Clue had set up. At the hint of trouble, they were just next door. The connecting doors between the rooms were unlocked and each of them was a crack shot.
    He folded his arms and continued to be Zen. The faster they got this over with, the sooner they could get the hell out of Mexico and put this cartel shit behind them. Demon had hard rules.
    They didn’t peddle flesh or deal in hardcore drugs. They especially didn’t fuck with an organization big enough to swallow them whole, like they were plankton in a sea of great white sharks.
    A knock came at the door.
    Lark froze.
    Pan jerked his head and she jogged across the room to sit in the chair at the table by the window. Pushing off the wall, he walked to the door and opened it to reveal the thugs from the day before and a middle-aged Hispanic male in a white linen suit.
    His salt and pepper hair was slicked back from his forehead. His eyes were shaded by a pair of designer sunglasses that cost more than most people made in a month.
    The lack of Lark’s sister wasn’t lost on him, but this was Manuel’s house. So, they would play by his rules. “Please come in,” Pan said, choking down the words that threatened to rise. It wasn’t in him to cater or pander.
    “Mr—?”
    “Sumner.”
    “Ahhh, Mr. Sumner.” Manuel’s voice sounded like water over stones, smooth and slightly
    accented, it made you think of a man highborn and well educated. Manuel’s gaze traveled across the room and latched onto Lark.
    The sly smirk on his face made Pan’s hackles rise.
    “I see you recognized the…. Potential in Ms.