I tilted my head just a smidgen, just enough to allow my lips to caress his. That’s all it took. With a low-pitched primal noise that seemed to emanate deep from within his chest, his mouth claimed mine, the fire pouring out of him and into me. His lips were hotter than I remembered, hotter than I thought possible, moving over mine in a fashion that left me both satisfied and craving more.

‘‘More,’’ I murmured, my hands in his hair, tugging on the dreadlocks. I was dimly aware that I was behaving in a manner wholly at odds with my normally unemotional self, but there was something about him that seemed to release all the inhibitions I usually held.

That thought scared me to my toenails.

Dragon fire whipped around me, spiraling up from my toes to my waist as Gabriel kissed me with a thoroughness that left no secrets undiscovered. I was shocked at the depths of my desire for him, a man I’d just met. I couldn’t hide from the fact that I wanted him, all of him, with a hunger that left me weak with sudden need. I moaned into his mouth as his fingers dug into my hips, pulling me tighter against the hard lines of his body. He tasted like fire, hot and exciting and dangerous, and I wanted more. The fire grew around me, twisting my desire higher, building my need until I thought it was going to burst from me in a primitive cry. The fire roared from me back to him, leaving me a blazing brand that threatened to burst into a million incandescent sparks.

‘‘Sweet May,’’ he groaned into my mouth as he rubbed my hips against his. ‘‘Sweet, sweet mate.’’

The words pierced my being like little bullets of ice, slicing through my almost out-of-control desire and returning me to reality with a shock that left me reeling.

With a cry, I pushed back, pulling my mouth away from his. ‘‘Don’t call me that,’’ I said, my voice hoarse and shaky.

Confusion filled his eyes.

I shadowed and twisted out of his arms, backing away a few steps. I touched my lips with a trembling hand, feeling empty inside, as if I’d lost something integral to myself.

‘‘May?’’ he asked, taking a step toward me, evidently seeing me despite the darkness of the evening. ‘‘What’s wrong?’’

‘‘Nothing. I just . . . I just don’t like that word,’’ I answered, clearing my throat and glancing around.

Everyone was standing where they had been before Gabriel sucked all my attention from the room, their faces displaying varying emotions.

Cyrene turned shocked eyes to me, but I sensed an underlying emotion that didn’t make any sense to me: pain.

‘‘I’m sorry,’’ I said, feeling the need to apologize. ‘‘I didn’t mean to turn the evening into a peep show.’’

‘‘You—’’ Cyrene started to say, then stopped, biting her lip as she looked away.