The Darkest Passion (Lords of the Underworld #5)(100)
Author: Gena Showalter

Paris had told him a lot of jokes over the years, but he only recalled this one. He’d never been able to scrub the thing from his mind. “Why it’s bad to be a penis.” He twisted his hips on the inward glide, hitting her in a new spot.

A cry of delight parted her lips. “No. No, but it doesn’t matter right now, I want you to—”

“It’s bad to be a penis because there’s a hole in your head.”

Her lips twitched as she clutched at him. “I never thought of it like that.”

“Well, it gets worse. Your owner is always strangling you.”

The twitching became a half smile. Her knees tightened at his hips, and she bit her bottom lip. “What else?”

“You shrink in cold water.”

There was a strangled chuckle.

“And you’re forced to hang around with two nuts.”

The chuckle became a full-fledged laugh. Gods, he loved the sound of her laughter. It was pure and magical, washing over him like a caress, dessert for his ears. He felt like a king, that he had been the one to cause that reaction in her.

“Well, your penis can hang out with me anytime he wants.”

Now he chuckled. He wished. Oh, how he wished. “Baby, sweet baby,” he said. “My baby.”

Ours. Learn to share.

He twisted his hips again, and she again closed her eyes and cried out. She reached for the headboard, meshing her br**sts into his chest, and met him thrust for thrust. Common sense slipped away, the need for completion taking over. Yes, yes, so good.

Her body squeezed at him, wet and warm and silky smooth. Faster and faster he pumped inside her, unable to slow, unable to savor. He had to hear her cries of abandon. Had to spurt his seed inside her. Had to brand her, just as he’d wanted.

Soon she was thrashing beneath him. Soon she was calling his name over and over. She was all he could see, all he could hear, all he could smell, and he wanted that to last forever. But the more he pounded into her, the closer he came to the end. His muscles tensed, his blood heated to boiling, burning him up, ruining him for anything else. Anyone else. This was it. All he existed for. All his demon craved.

“I love you,” he roared, pushed over the edge.

Just like that, she climaxed as well, spasming around his shaft, hands back on him, nails digging deep. She even leaned up and bit the cord of his neck. Perhaps she drew blood. He didn’t know, didn’t care. Only knew that his body continued to rock into her, spurting and clenching and burning some more, his demon humming, purring, as lost as he was.

And when Olivia finally settled, when he finally caught his breath, he collapsed atop her before rolling to the side. Immediately she burrowed against him, several minutes passing in silence. Never had an orgasm been so intense, so consuming.

He’d wanted to brand her, but he was the one who’d been branded. She was all over him, inside him, his everything. His every breath. With her, he was calm, the demon was calm, and life was everything he’d ever dreamed.

“That was…that was…” She sighed with contentment. One of her fingertips traced a heart on his chest.

“Amazing,” he said. “You are amazing.”

“Thank you. You are, too. But…but…did you mean what you said?”

Tread carefully. If he told her the truth, she might decide to stay, even though he had to be with Legion, even though his end was near, forcing her to witness both his betrayal and his death. Forcing her to live without him if—when—Danika’s vision proved true.

“Yes,” he said, then cursed under his breath. Still, regret wouldn’t come. She deserved to know. She was more to him than sex. She was more to him than, well, anything. “I love you.”

“Oh, Aeron. I love—”

“Do not say another word, Olivia,” a male growled from the center of the room.

At the interruption, Wrath snarled in fury.

Aeron stiffened, already reaching for the blades resting on his nightstand. He didn’t relax when he spotted Lysander, gold wings outstretched, white robe glowing in the moonlight. The man’s eyes were narrowed with fury.

Who takes my head? he’d asked Strider.

Lysander. I think.

“Lysander,” Olivia gasped out, holding the bedsheet to her chest. “What are you doing here?”

“Silence,” he commanded.

“Don’t talk to her like that.” Aeron stood, jerked on a pair of pants, and said, “Tell us what you want and leave.” Don’t be here for the reason I think you’re here. I’m not ready yet.

Lysander met his stare and uttered the words Aeron dreaded hearing. “I want your head. And I won’t leave until I’ve taken it.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

FINALLY, LEGION FOUND GALEN. He was in a dingy pub in London. She’d been flashing all over the place, from Buda to Belgium to the Netherlands, and now London. The coward had flown himself here and was nursing a glass of whiskey in a shadowed corner. She could smell the ambrosia he’d already consumed; she recognized the sweet scent because Paris always smelled like that, and she knew Galen would be drunk very soon. She had only to wait.

She was too impatient to wait.Her gaze raked over her own body. She still wore that T-shirt and jeans. They were plain but clean. And though they weren’t revealing, her br**sts were so large they stretched the material. Several men had noticed her already and whistled as she strolled by. Outwardly, she’d paid them no heed. Inwardly, she’d thrilled at being viewed as something other than ugly, disgusting or at best, something to be tolerated.

She stopped at Galen’s table, and he looked up through the dark shield of his lashes. “Go away.”

Steady. Instinct demanded she attack first and ask questions later. Resist. Galen delighted in tricking the Lords, in sending Bait to distract them before acting. Today, she would be their Bait.

“You’re beautiful,” she said, and he was. With his pale hair and pale blue eyes, with his flawless features and sensual mouth, he was every woman’s fantasy. But he’d helped destroy her Aeron’s life, and for that he would pay. “I want you.” Dead, but she didn’t add that part.

He arched a brow. “Of course you do. You can’t help yourself. None of you can.” He almost sounded…upset by that. “Here’s a little news flash for you. No matter what I make you feel, hopeful for a future, a wedding, babies, you’re not going to get it from me.” There at the end, he’d been sneering. He drained the rest of his drink. “Now go away like I told you. I came here for peace and quiet.”