The Darkest Night (Page 63)

The Darkest Night (Lords of the Underworld #1)(63)
Author: Gena Showalter

"Handsome?"

"Of course."

"Sharp of wit and skilled with a sword?"

"Absolutely." Another chuckle. "But I mean a man… friend… guy. Oh, I don’t know what to call you!"

He savored her amusement – and her earnest words. "Just call me yours. That is all I want to be."

Everything about her softened. "Tell me something about yourself." She tugged her face from his clasp and once again snuggled into his body. She didn’t remove her hands from his wrists but slid them down his arms and around his neck, as if she feared letting him go, even for a second. He feared it, too. He wanted her desperately. And would have her, he swore, after they showered, all traces of blood and death removed. "Something you’ve never told anyone else."

He could tell her that he liked classical music rather than the hard rock his friends preferred, but that information lacked the deeply personal touch she obviously craved. And Maddox found that he wanted her to know him better than anyone else in the world.

His sense of peace – true peace – deepened. All because she was here with him. Because she had cried for him and cared for him. Because she didn’t judge his past sins or revile him. Because she wanted to learn about him, too. Because only he eased her torment.

Because, when she looked at him, she didn’t see Violence. He suspected she saw man. Her man. A heady thought. Drugging. Shocking. Enough to earn his eternal devotion.

"There have been a few times over the years that I wished to be human. And have a wife and – " he gulped, confessing " – children." He’d never told his friends, who would have laughed. He should laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

Violence? Near children?

Ashlyn didn’t laugh, didn’t scold him. "That’s a beautiful dream," she said, and there was a wistful catch in her voice. "You’ll make a wonderful father. Fierce and protective."

Humbled by her proclamation, though he knew he would never be given the chance to prove her words, he traced circles over each of her vertebra. "Tell me one of your secrets now."

Shivering, she drew her finger over the ridged peak of his nipple. His c**k jumped in response; his blood blistered. No longer simply heating, but already an inferno. Still, he didn’t kiss her, didn’t roll on top of her. However much it pained his body, now was a time for talking.

"I didn’t learn to read until last year," she admitted shamefully. "Until then, I had to give all of my reports verbally, rather than typing them, and everyone knew why. I just couldn’t concentrate long enough to decipher the words. The voices were always there, disturbing me. When I was a kid, my boss would read stories to me, fairy tales so magical I could almost block out the whispers. That was when I became determined to learn on my own. But it took a long time to actually do so."

He didn’t care if she could read or not. But she cared, and he sought to comfort her. "That you learned at all is worthy of praise."

She gifted him with a brilliant smile. "Thank you."

"I didn’t learn to read until hundreds of years after my possession, and then I only did so because I didn’t like others knowing something I did not. See? You are ahead of me already."

She chuckled, relaxing further, "Once I learned, I went online and ordered every romance novel I could find. They’re fairy tales for grown-ups. They were delivered straight to my door and I devoured them as fast as I was able."

"I will have Paris buy you some in town. An entire boxload."

"That would be lovely. Thank you," she said again, giving him another of those smiles.

His chest ached as he kissed the top of her head. "I’ve seen a few romance novels." Paris had left a few lying about the fortress, and Maddox had – maybe, perhaps, might have, would never admit it aloud – picked them up. "Had I read them – " cough, cough " – I would probably think they were – " sexy, fun, enlightening " – interesting."

Her gratitude morphed into pure wickedness. "Maybe… maybe we can read one together or something."

"I would like that."

As hungry as he was for her, Maddox found it amazingly pleasant to pass the time just talking. She told him how she’d spent part of her childhood inside a lab, being tested – sometimes painfully, which meant he now had a list of scientists to kill – and how she still spent most of her time alone, just to escape the noise. She’d never really been part of a family. Only one man had ever treated her as anything more than an animal, and Maddox found himself indebted to that human.

But Maddox seethed with the need to chase away those memories and replace them with better ones, happier ones. More than that, he seethed with the need to avenge her. "You deserved better," he said, Violence finally stretching its arms and yawning.

"I didn’t mind my upbringing," she said. "For the most part, that is. I was always hearing things, so solitude was actually welcome."

But she’d missed playing and being touched, loved. He heard it in her voice, a need she couldn’t quite hide. You know her so well do you? Yes, he thought. He did. A part of him, a part buried so deep he hadn’t realized it was there until she had materialized in his life, had known her from the beginning.

She was his. His woman. His… everything.

He caressed her arm and felt a small, hard, unnatural lump. He frowned and glanced down. "What’s that?"

"Birth control," she said, cheeks heating to a dark pink. "Standard agency procedure. A while back, a woman was raped on the job by a rabid goblin. She became pregnant and the child was…not normal. Now the Institute teaches us self-defense and gives all female employees the option of having the implant."

Violence arched its back and fluttered open its eyes, awakening further. The thought of this delicate beauty being forced was abhorrent to both man and spirit. She was a virgin, but that didn’t mean she had been left completely alone. "Were you ever hurt?"

"No," she assured him. "But I knew if the voices ever overtook me I wouldn’t be able to protect myself."

Violence did not relax.

"Tell me about your childhood," she said. Her fingertip again grazed his nipple. She rubbed against him, caught herself and stopped.

His skin tightened with awareness. So did hers; he knew it. From the beginning, he’d always seemed to know when she was aroused. And right now, the woman was definitely aroused. "I did not have a childhood. I was created already a man, already a soldier."

"I’m sorry," she said softly. "I forgot."

I want her so badly. Last time he had stopped himself from taking her fully because she was a virgin. He was the same man he had been yesterday – he’d still never had a virgin and still wasn’t exactly sure of the best way to go about it – but none of that mattered now. He’d almost lost her. She had almost been taken from him.