His hunger for one woman will make him a traitor to his world – UNENDING DESIRE – Erotic Romance – Urban Fantasy – Tina Donahue Books #UrbanFantasy #EroticRomance #TinaDonahueBooks
Unending Desire, book one in my Outlawed Realm series.
This is Regina and Nikoli’s story about a love that wasn’t meant to be but no one could stop.
*** Each book in the series can be read as a standalone ***
His hunger for one woman will make him a traitor to his world….
From a portal in his lab on E2, one of the five dimensions of Earth, quantum physicist Nikoli Zorr gazes on everything forbidden to him. Passion. Desire. The exquisite pleasure of running his hands over the lush curves of a young woman he should have stopped watching weeks ago.
His duty is to close the portals that keep the monsters out of E2—and never interfere with the inevitable fate of those on the other side. Yet he can’t bring himself to abandon the woman who has captured his soul.
Psychologist Regina Page is trying to focus on her client, and off the mysterious, unbearable sexual cravings that consume her when she’s alone in her bedroom. The next moment she’s attacked by vampires, then swept into another realm by Nikoli, a stranger whose touch awakens that same raw desire. Whose eyes are already filled with farewell.
Yet beneath their undeniable carnal lust, something else stirs. The beginnings of illicit love. The unexpected need to protect him. Even if it means risking body, blood, and soul to defeat the merciless horde…for a future that was never meant to be.
Sudden warmth flushed through her, permeating her limbs, oiling and loosening them.
She sensed it again…someone watching.
Anticipation made her look up; life experience made her wary.
No one glanced in her direction. Conversations went on. Patrons consumed their food and drinks.
Disconcerted, she checked behind herself. Nothing had changed. No one acknowledged or even noticed her.
Heat traveled to her pussy and lingered there. New warmth climbed to her throat and cheeks. A picture scrolled across her mind: large hands cupping her face, the touch gentle and caressing, lips brushing her skin, warm breath tickling her cheek, her lids closing, her sagging against hard male flesh.
Where are you?
She twisted to take in everyone.
At the street entrance, a group huddled near the open door, shaking water from their umbrellas, brushing moisture from their coats.
Her napkin fluttered in the dank breeze.
The patron closest to her, a young guy in a beautifully tailored suit, called out, “Hey, close the door. You’re letting in the cold.”
Regina experienced nothing except stunning warmth.
An individual faced the front counter where the baristas stood.
He must have arrived shortly before those who’d left the door open. Tall, his build powerful, he wore a black crewneck sweater, jacket, and a dark-blue topcoat. The ends fluttered above his pants. His thick raven hair was wavy, combed away from his forehead, and worn longish in the back. His ruggedly handsome features complemented his olive complexion.
Regina’s attraction punched up a thousandfold. She couldn’t help staring. She guessed him to be in his mid-thirties, his descent foreign, Greek or Middle Eastern ancestry.
She didn’t think he worked in this building. If he had, she would have noticed him before now.
He certainly wasn’t a man any woman could ignore.
A barista delivered his order with a suggestive smile, showing her interest in him.
He handed over a twenty, not seeming to notice her flirting.
His coat and hair weren’t damp from the rain like the other patrons who’d come in off the street. Maybe he did work here and was buying coffee to take on his drive home.
To a wife and children who waited for him in one of Seattle’s countless suburbs.
The possibility troubled Regina more than it should have, her heart sinking.
His hands were large, fingers long. And naked. No ring.
Unbelievably pleased, she warned herself not to get too giddy. It was always possible his culture didn’t believe in men wearing wedding bands. Even if he was single, she didn’t know him. Other than being in this coffeehouse at the same time, their paths would probably never cross again. They would never speak or touch.
Brutal reality didn’t stop her. Fevered and wanting, she considered joining him and starting a conversation.
With lightning speed, she considered and rejected numerous topics: the delicious pastry in the display case, the depressing weather, what films currently played. Through it all, persistent need engulfed her, fluttering her stomach, producing desire and well-being that grew and coaxed her to get closer to him.
She couldn’t move. Her legs barely supported her weight.
He turned and looked directly at her, no one else.
She softened with delight and tensed with anticipation at the invisible connection between them. The psychologist in her knew it was ridiculous to consider such a thing. The woman she was didn’t care. She held his gaze, as dark as his hair, his irises sparkling in the tame lighting.
A pleasured whimper bubbled in her throat.
A middle-aged woman knocked his arm as she pushed past to place her order.
His focus remained on Regina, his manner composed yet commanding, his features unguarded, filled with what she could only describe as wonder.
Around them, people laughed and spoke, lights blinked, rain tapped the windows, the sounds resembling drumming fingernails. An instrumental piece flowed from the sound system. A tenor sax wailed sensuously.
She locked her knees and leaned against her table for support.
He didn’t break their unspoken attachment. With an easy stride, he approached her table.
Expectation sizzled through Regina, tightening her nipples. She lifted her face, helpless in his presence.
Her heart turned over in appreciation.
He gestured toward her table. “Do you mind if I join you?” He regarded the area past hers. “It’s very crowded tonight.”
His smooth, deep baritone held a faint accent. Not Greek or Middle Eastern as she’d suspected but from some unknown locale. Her throat was so tight, she had difficulty speaking. “Not at all. Please do.” Really, please.
Again, he focused only on her. As if no one else existed.
Something inside her shifted, magnifying sights and sounds, her pressing need to be close. She ached to touch him, wondering if he suspected as much and had noticed how her words caught. She had no doubt he saw her desire.
“Thanks.” He rested his cup on the table.
Unwilling to stop herself, she offered her hand, their fingertips nearly touching. “Hi. I’m Regina Page.”
Tell me who you are.