Night Sins (8 page)

“Are you?” she demanded hoarsely, tipping her chin up in what was meant as an act of defiance but instead became a plea for a kiss. A plea he answered without the slightest hesitation.

His lips closed down on hers, brutally wonderful lips, his tongue pressing past hers, into the wet recesses of her mouth. One long forceful stroke, followed by another. He tasted like cinnamon and spice with a hint of coffee. Felt like sin, and the kind of devilish, demanding satisfaction she wasn’t sure she’d experienced—not in this lifetime—but she wanted to. She melted for this man like the sun did into the moon—like light into darkness. And he was dark, dark in ways she probably did not want to know, but yet, darkly addictive in ways she felt she
had
to know. There was no chance of resistance, no hope of denying her desire for this man. She’d wanted him since the first moment she’d met him. She was wet and wanting now, welcoming the escape from everything, from the fear of moments before, into a place that was safe and pleasurable. To the desire and the warmth that was Jareth.

But as certainly as he had claimed her mouth, he released it and her, his heavy-lidded stare meeting hers. “Am I a beast?” he said softly, his voice a rough timbre of a taunt. “I suggest you leave before you find out the answer to that question.” He turned and started walking, the image of pure masculine power striding up that mountainside, fitting in here in a way that no simple writer could have.

Was he a beast? Jareth had all but dared her to find out. And he was no fool. He knew what he’d done. The question was—why had he ordered the others away and challenged her to stay? Should she be erotically charged or should she be scared? Because, it seemed, she was a lot of both. The two combined had Amber on fire.