Lucifer's Lover by Tracy Cooper-Posey

am. I think…you want it that way. I think I do.”
    She couldn’t speak. Desperate sadness touched her. She wanted to reach out, hold him back but knew she had nothing to hold him back with.
    He cupped her cheek with his warm, big hand, the way he had at the end of their date. She knew it was his way of saying farewell. She kept motionless her breath caught and quiet.
    His hand grew still against her cheek.
    “Ah, hell…” he growled, his voice low and stepped close to her. Before she guessed what he intended, his lips came down on hers and the sweet-sour rush of pleasure was coursing through her, stealing her breath, stealing her senses. She was vaguely aware of being borne backward and the door closing behind them but she was too busy delighting in his taste, his hands on her body, discarding her coat, sliding into her hair and holding her head while his lips plundered and explored. He trailed his lips down her throat and brushed her hair out of the way before tasting her skin at the base of her throat. The sensation was delightful and she heard him groan with his own delight.
    It brought her back to her senses enough to try to push him away. “Luke, no.”
    He straightened. “What is it?”
    “Yes, what is this?” she said. “What part does this fall into?” Tears pricked at her eyes and she blinked them away furiously, determined not to turn that particularly feminine tool upon him. “Does this fall into the part that is truth, Luke? Or the part that was all lies?”
    He sighed and picked up her hand. Gently he spread her fingers and kissed the palm. “This is truth,” he said, resting her fingertips against his lips. He dropped his coat from his shoulders and pushed aside his jacket and slid her hand against his chest. She could feel his heart thundering against her hand. “This is truth,” he said quietly.
    Her tears did fall, then. “Thank God,” she whispered.
    He brushed them away with his thumb. “Perhaps you should send me away, anyway, Lindsay. I’ll turn your life upside down if you don’t.”
    “I’ll risk it,” she told him.
    “I’m already doing it. You just had a small sample of coming attractions, tonight.”
    She shook her head. “I don’t believe you,” she told him. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him toward her. “You’re not going to start running off at the mouth again, are you, Pierse?”
    “I might.” He kissed the corner of her mouth.
    She slid her hand around the back of his head, her fingers burrowing through the thick, luxuriant mass of his hair, the ends tickling the sides of her fingers. She gently guided his lips to her throat, closing her eyes as they again found the sensitive spot they had zeroed in on before. “I’ll just have to keep your mouth too busy for talking,” she declared, her voice husky in reaction to what his hands and mouth were doing.
    He didn’t answer. His hand was on her thigh, sliding up her flank, smoothing its way over her hip. At her waist, it paused for a minute before slipping higher, contouring itself around her breast. She couldn’t help but arch back, opening herself to him and she heard him groan. His lips seared an imprint on her breast, just above the top of her dress, his hair brushing her skin, sending sparks of excitement flitting through her. She realized he was holding her up and she was bent over his arm, ripe for plundering.
    His groan seemed to touch off a wall of heat that rushed through her, consuming her senses. She felt the tips of his fingers at her dress and realized they were trembling against her flesh.
    She knew what he intended and found herself arching harder, welcoming it. “Yes,” she whispered.
    It was all the encouragement he needed. His hand bunched and the dress was ripped from her body, revealing her stocking tops, suspenders and that was all. Luke became very still. “Dear god…” His voice was a mockery of itself, hoarse, breathless.
    His hands were at her back, behind her