The Darkest Night (Lords of the Underworld #1)(44)
Author: Gena Showalter

"How do you feel, Ashlyn?" he repeated.

Every nerve ending in her body reached for him, pleading for attention. "Fine," she finally admitted. "I feel fine. I didn’t lie."

"Then why are you standing there? Strip."

"Do not order me." If she allowed him to walk on her now, he would always walk on her. Always? How long are you staying?

He was silent for a moment. "Please."

Are you really going to do this?

Yes. She was. He didn’t love her, and she wasn’t sure how he’d treat her afterward, but she was going to do it. She wanted him and had from the first.

Her hand trembled as she reached for the zipper of her pink jacket. But she found that she wasn’t wearing the jacket anymore. Or her sweater. He must have removed them while she slept. Cheeks heating, she curled her fingers around the hem of her plain T-shirt. She lifted the material over her head and tossed it aside, leaving her in a white tank, bra and jeans.

Maddox nodded his approval. "So many layers. Remove more. Please."

She rested her hands on the bottom of the tank. Paused. "I’m nervous," she confessed.

One of his black eyebrows arched as his head tilted to the side. "Why?"

"What if – what if you don’t like what you see?"

"I’ll like," he said huskily.

That primitive tone… She shivered. It had scared her in the forest. Now it fanned the flames of her desire. "How can you be sure?"

His gaze raked over her in a heated perusal. "I like what I see right now. What’s underneath will be even better."

Ashlyn wasn’t so sure about that. She didn’t work out; she didn’t diet. There had never really been a need. When she wasn’t traveling with the Institute, she was content to stay home, watching TV, reading magazines and playing on the Internet. Not the things that gave a woman the type of body men talked about wanting.

Her thighs were a little wider than most said they liked, her stomach a little rounder. What kind of woman was Maddox used to? He was immortal, after all, and had probably been with thousands of beautiful females.

Her hands fisted. Irrational though it was, the thought of him with someone else really pissed her off.

"Ashlyn," Maddox said, snapping her from her musings.

"What?"

"Mind on the task at hand," he said dryly.

Her lips inched into a smile. "Sorry. I got distracted." She’d have to learn to control her own thoughts, now that silence was a part of her life.

"Let me help you. Please."

Every time he uttered the word please she melted, wanting to give him all that he desired and more. She nodded.

His hands closed over hers, and there was that thrilling shock that always followed his touch. She’d expected it this time, but was still unprepared for its ripple effect. Pearled ni**les, a warm rush between her legs.

He didn’t wait for permission but gripped the tank and lifted.

"Wait," she said.

Instantly, he ceased moving.

"I need to prepare you." He was about to see her underwear – another embarrassing topic. They were plain white cotton. Granny gear, she’d once heard a man say. She never wore sexy clothing, even underclothing, while on the job. It just wasn’t practical. "I do own sexy underwear, I promise, but I’m not wearing it right now."

"That is supposed to disgust me?" Maddox asked, sounding genuinely confused. "That you aren’t wearing sexy underwear?"

"I don’t know." She chewed on her lower lip. "Maybe. Does it?"

"Ashlyn, whatever you’re wearing will not matter to me. You will not be wearing it for long. Ready now?" he asked.

Swallowing, she nodded.

He tugged the tank over her head and tossed it on the floor beside her T-shirt. She shivered. "W-well?"

"Well?"

"Ugly?" she asked.

"Lovely," Maddox replied. He sucked in a – reverent? – breath and her blood caught fire. He reached out with a shaky hand and traced the plain cotton that shielded her ni**les. Though already hard, they strained toward him.

Ashlyn moaned at the decadence.

He trailed his fingers down her stomach and gripped the waist of her jeans. A twist of his wrist, and they were unsnapped. She could feel the heat of his skin all the way to her bones.

He slid the jeans over her hips, past her knees and to the floor. "Step out of them."

Legs shaky, she did as commanded. His gaze locked on her white cotton panties. She fought the urge to cover them, wishing again that he could see her in something sexy. "I know men like to role-play," she told him, nervously trying to fill the silence. How many times had she heard them brag about it to their friends? "At home I have a cop outfit, a harem girl costume and a Playboy Bunny teddy." Not that she’d ever gotten to use them. But she loved owning them, just in case.

"That’s nice." Maddox sounded unimpressed.

"Maybe I can, I don’t know, show you sometime."

"Take the bra and panties off." His expression was disappointingly blank as he straightened.

Maybe he didn’t care what she wore.

As he waited for her to obey, he reached behind him and jerked his T-shirt over his head. She gasped in surprise, in delight, and forgot about how ugly her panties were – but she still didn’t remove them. Or the bra. She was too busy staring.

Maddox was absolutely magnificent. The scabs had already disappeared, leaving only faint red lines. Rope after rope of bronzed muscle offered a feast for her eyes. He had an innie bellybutton and a faint dusting of black hair that led straight into the waist of his pants.

Never taking his eyes from her face, he unfastened his pants and shoved them down the long, solid length of his legs until they, too, pooled on the floor.

He wasn’t wearing any underwear.

Her eyes widened and her mouth dried. He was huge. Long and thick and sublimely aroused. She’d seen the male penis in books, on Web sites she shouldn’t have visited and movies she shouldn’t have watched, but never in person. Never like this. His testicles were drawn up tight and surrounded by coarse dark hair.

"I believe I gave you a specific task," he said, his pointed gaze between her legs making her quake deliciously.

Need flooded her, more intense than ever before. The need to touch and be touched, to taste and be tasted, consumed her. A sharp ache pounded through her. "Are we really going to have sex?" she asked breathlessly, hopefully.

"Oh, yes," he replied, stalking toward her. "Oh, yes, beauty, we really are."

CHAPTER TWELVE

Maddox gripped Ashlyn under her arms and lifted her off the floor. He tore the center of her bra apart with his teeth. The buttery material ripped easily and fell open, revealing the sexiest pair of br**sts he’d ever seen.