15 Targeted by Evangeline Anderson

warm, aroused male. She pressed her mouth to his and felt a low growl vibrate through him as she licked delicately along the seam of his sensual lips.
    Somewhere deep inside the real Emily was screaming that this was wrong—was begging to know what was going on, what she was doing for heaven’s sake. But the touch of his big body and the taste of his lips—salt and wild, dark spice—were like a drug that drove the other higher, made her want more and even more…
    And for a moment it seemed he would give her more. Taking her in his arms, he pulled her close, molding her to him and deepening the kiss, opening his lips and sucking her tongue into his mouth, tasting her with abandon.
    Emily felt herself melting against him. Right…oh God, this felt so right. It was like water in the desert—like food to a starving man. Like the answer she’d been seeking to a question she hadn’t even known she was asking all her life.
    Then, suddenly, he pulled away, breaking the kiss.
    “Please,” Emily whispered, standing on tiptoes, trying to get to him again. She had to have more… more. The other demanded it.
    “No.” He cupped her face in his big hands and pulled away, studying her closely. “Your eyes are pure gold. Your Kit’tara is close.”
    “Don’t want to talk about that. I just want more.” Emily pressed close to him but he held her at a distance.
    “ Khalla, this is dangerous,” he rumbled, eyeing her earnestly. “You must not allow yourself to be overcome or the Tenrah will be greatly accelerated and that must not happen—not now.”
    “It doesn’t feel dangerous—feels wonderful.” Emily rubbed against him like a cat, shamelessly begging for what she needed—for what the other told her they had to have.
    “It…feels good to me too. But we must not give in to temptation. I am Verrak— fallen from the ways of our people. I do not deserve to service a Khalla and besides to service you now would be dangerous . We must get you to Rageron where you can have your pick of suitable males.”
    “I pick you,” Emily purred, pressing closer. Reaching between them, she cupped the long, hard ridge of flesh between his legs. “Please, Tragar, take me. Fuck me.”
    He drew in a deep breath, as though trying to regain control, and pulled her hand away.
    “No! You must not speak so—you must not act so.” He shook his head. “This isn’t right or safe.”
    “Why should I care about right or safe?” Emily rubbed against him again. God, she was acting so shameless. Somewhere buried deep inside the real Emily was mortified at the way she was behaving. Yet, with the other riding her, she seemed helpless to stop.
    “Very well. You leave me no choice.”
    Tragar took her by the hand and turned, leading her down a long metal corridor.
    Emily followed without complaint. All she could think of was his mouth on hers and the exotic dark-spice taste of his lips. All she could do was what the other demanded and give herself completely.
    It didn’t occur to her that this idea would have been repugnant to her just a few minutes before. She’d had no sexual encounters at all after what Grayson had done to her and hadn’t wanted any either. But for some reason, she was willing and eager to do anything and everything with the big Kindred. She was ready to throw away any caution she might have felt if only he would promise to take her to his bed and make her his— completely his. Her entire body ached for him—longed to be filled with the thick, throbbing shaft she’d touched so briefly earlier.
    It was as though he’d read her mind. When they got to the end of the corridor, he pressed a button on the wall and a door slid open to reveal what was clearly a bedroom.
    Emily had a blurred impression of a warm red carpet and a red and gold bedspread that matched on the large, broad bed which dominated one end of the room. There was a small fireplace with a fire blazing at the other end, with some kind of couch in front of