Sacrifice of Passion (Deadly Legends) by Melissa Bourbon Ramirez

stirred, sleep leaving him. Hell no! He didn’t want to lose the dream.
    “I won’t leave this time,” she said, her voice husky and slurred.
    Even as his eyes opened, he felt her on him, real as life. His vision cleared and he saw her. Holy Christ. This was no dream.
    “Laney.”
    She pressed herself against him, her auburn hair wild and untamed, copper streaks shimmering in the moonlight. Her eyes were dreamy and vacant.
    “What are you…how’d you get in here?” A movement of the curtains to his right caught his eye. The bedroom window.
    “I want you,” she murmured.
    A thrill shot through him. She was in his bed. For real. She’d accepted his deal just as he knew she would. He forgot about everything else and gathered her in his arms. “Whatever you say,” he muttered, and started to pull her back down so he could kiss her again.
    But she resisted, her hands splayed on his chest, her elbows locked. “Not yet.”
    So she wanted to be in charge. No problem. He closed his eyes, and as she ground herself against him, he groaned in pleasure. He felt like a teenager, ready to explode before he was even inside her. She stopped the rhythmic motion and he opened his eyes, watching her in fascination as she crossed her arms and took off her top. There was just enough light filtering in through the window to see the curves of her breasts, her nipples taut and calling for his mouth.
    An ethereal tone dusted her voice. “It should have been me, not her…”
    He grimaced. He didn’t want her to think about the choices they’d made in the past. Didn’t want to talk about it and risk ruining what was happening right now. She was here, at this moment. “It’s you now. The way it should be.”
    Slowly, her eyes closed as she nodded.
    Was he still dreaming? Why had she changed her mind after just a few hours? But he didn’t ask questions. He traced his fingers over her breasts and teased her nipples. A small moan escaped her lips and contentment flooded him. She was real, flesh and blood, and here in his bed. Finally. He tried to pull her toward him, again, but she knocked his hands away.
    “Not yet,” she said.
    There was something unsettling about her voice. About the way she wasn’t looking at him, but rather at a spot on the wall behind him. He tried not to care. She’d come to him. What else mattered? “What do you want me to do, Laney?”
    Without a word, she moved herself back, wrapped her hands around his arms, and pulled him to a sitting position. She arched back, guiding his mouth to her breasts. As though she’d read his mind. “I waited for you,” she said, her body shuddering.
    “I’ve been waiting for you, too,” he said, his voice barely a breath against her skin. And then his tongue passed over the hard points of her nipples, over the swell of her breasts, moving back and forth between them, making him feel like he was home. “What else have you been waiting for, Laney?” he asked before latching on and sucking until she groaned deep in her throat, the rumble in his chest a match.
    She gasped and ground her pelvis against him, the friction of her cotton pajama pants against his boxers creating an agonizing mixture of pleasure and pain. He cupped one hand on her backside, his need to feel the warmth between her legs almost overwhelming.
    Suddenly she was standing on the bed over him, her naked breasts taunting him. He whipped off his shirt as she said, “Everything we never had.”
    From his mind to her mouth. “We can have it now.”
    “It’s not supposed to hurt.”
    Something in her voice changed and he stopped, let his hands move to her sides, tilted his head back to look up at her. She’d moaned in pleasure, not pain. He was sure of it. “Does it hurt?”
    “No.” She raked her fingers through her hair, shaking her head. Light from outside reflected on the silver bracelet around her wrist. He recognized it. He’d given it to her, and she was wearing it now, when she’d come to