Into The Dark (Lords of the Underworld #5.5)(7)
Author: Gena Showalter

“Then I ask that you do not try to flash. You might misjudge the distance and end up in a spot without a ledge.”

Or underground, but she did not tell him that.

“That is a handy power to possess. I envy you.”

Poor man. He’d been stuck at the gates of Hell for countless lifetimes. “If you could flash to anywhere in the world, where would you go?” Once they’d destroyed the demons trying to escape, perhaps she would take him there. She would not be able to remain with him, of course, but seeing his happiness could fuel her fantasies for years to come.

He grunted. “I do not wish to lie to you, goddess, therefore I will not answer your question.”

Oh. “I appreciate your honesty.” Why won’t he talk to me?

Curiosity bombarded her. Did his answer embarrass him, perhaps? If so, why? She desperately wanted to know, but let the matter drop. For now.

“We are almost there,” he said. Almost at the crack.

“Good.” He was still close to her, still behind her, but he made sure not to touch her. Yet he couldn’t stop his heat from enveloping her. It was not a heat she minded, even amidst the smoldering furnace that was Hell. His was…heady.

He stopped, forcing her to do the same. “I’m sorry to say it’s worse than I thought it would be.” His breath trekked over the back of her neck.

“Wh—what?” she asked, horrified. Being near her was worse than he’d thought?

“The wall. What else?”

Thank the gods, she thought, expelling a breath. Foolish woman. Her life depended on this wall. She should not care whether a man found her attractive. Or not.

She forced her gaze straight ahead, her mind to center on her job, not the intriguing man behind her. Thick claw marks abounded. And what had appeared to be thin grooves on the other side were massive craters here.

Hope abandoned her.

Irreparable. In every way.

“They are more determined than I realized,” was all she said, voice trembling slightly. No reason to speak her fears aloud. Geryon might think she was complaining about his work or doubting his abilities.

He adjusted his grip, his arm just over her shoulder. A tremor raked her. If she stood on her tiptoes, she would feel his skin through her chimation. Though it had been hundreds of years since she’d had a man, she remembered the comfort such simple contact could offer.

“Do not worry, Kadence. I will not allow them to hurt you.”

He was using her name more freely now, and that gladdened her. “Just so you know, I will not allow them to hurt you, either.” It was a vow.

There was a pause. Then, “Thank you.” He sounded unsure.

“You are welcome.”

She thought she heard him swallow. “Shall I try and patch this side?”

“No.” Too much effort for too little reward. She realized that now. “We should make our way to the bottom. Destroying the High Lords is the only way to prevent more damage.”

Evil laughter erupted behind them, and they both stiffened.

Demons.

“Leave us,” Geryon snapped.

The laughter increased in volume. Drew closer.

He sighed. “I cannot battle them like this, and they know it,” he muttered, latching onto her waist.

She gasped. Finally. He was touching her. It was amazing and wonderful, wild and intense. But there was no comfort in it, as she’d expected. No, instead she experienced white-hot, searing arousal. And a burning desire for more.

“What should we do?”

“Time to fall, Kadence,” he said, and then he released the rocks, taking her over the edge with him.

CHAPTER SEVEN

THEY SEEMED TO FALL FOREVER. Geryon retained an iron-edged grip on the trembling Kadence, her hair whipping around them like angry silk ribbons. She didn’t scream, something he’d expected, but she did turn and wind her legs around him, something he had not.

It was his first taste of heaven. In this life, and his other.

“I’ve got you,” he said. Her body fit perfectly against his, soft where he was hard, smooth where he was callused.

“When does it end?” she whispered, but still he caught the undercurrents of panic in her voice.

They were not twirling, were merely dropping, but he knew the sensation could be harrowing. Especially, he reflected, for one used to flashing from one place to another.

“Soon.” He’d fallen like this only once before, when Lucifer summoned him to the palace to explain his new duties. But he had never forgotten the experience.

Like before, flames kindled all around them, pinpricks of gold in the shuddering darkness. Except before, those flames had flicked like snake tongues, licking at him. That they didn’t now…did they fear him? Or the goddess?

She was more everything than Geryon had realized. More courageous. More determined. Every minute he spent with her, his desire for her intensified. She was the break of dawn in the bleakness that was his life. She was refreshing ice in smoldering heat.

She is not for you.

Ugly as he was, she would run fast and far if she knew the many fantasies his mind had begun to weave of them. Him, laying her on the ground, stripping her, dancing his tongue over every delicious inch of her. Her, moaning in pleasure as he tasted her core. Crying out in abandon as he filled her with his shaft. Far more than the kiss she would have allowed him.

A kiss born of…pity? Or gratitude?

He found he desired neither. He wanted her to want his kiss.

And damn himself to everlasting eternity, why had he not taken her lips when she’d offered them? In pity, gratitude or not. What a fool he was! What a coward.

Did the opportunity arise again, he would pounce.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her still-rising panic evident.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he lied. “Some have called this the never ending pit, but I assure you, there is an end. Just a little farther and we’ll hit. Landing will jar you, but I’ll absorb most of the impact.” He moved one of his hands up and onto the base of her neck. Offering comfort, he told himself. He’d tried not to touch her, had fought it, but there’d been no other way to protect her inside the pit.

Besides, what was the harm in adjusting a single hand?

“But you stiffened.”

I must stop craving her. Her skin was soft, so soft, and he felt little bumps rise under his palm as he gently massaged. To his delight, her muscles relaxed under his ministrations.

Apparently, there was a lot of harm. His shaft hardened unexpectedly, and his cheeks heated. Could she feel the evidence of his arousal? It was buried beneath his only piece of armor, so perhaps she would think the metal responsible.