The Darkest Passion (Lords of the Underworld #5)(39)
Author: Gena Showalter

When she lifted from him, as if she truly meant to follow through with her threat—and perhaps she did, the determined little wildcat, despite the fact that she’d faltered on the word sex, proving she wasn’t quite as confident and aggressive as she wanted him to believe—a snarl of rage erupted from him and he grabbed her by the arm. He tossed her back onto the mattress.

William would not be touching her. Ever.

When she stopped bouncing, he covered her with the full measure of his weight. “Just because I won’t let you do things to me doesn’t mean I won’t do things to you. I’m already ruined.” As he spoke, he slid his hand up her thigh. Soft…warm…

Mine.

Another claim from Wrath, but he couldn’t protest this time. Automatically her knees parted. Warm? No. Hot. He tunneled past her panties to the heart of her. She was perfect and wet, dripping. His thumb, shaking now, pressed into her sweet spot.

“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes. That’s so good…just what I’d imagined…” Her eyes closed and she dug her nails into his back.

Away from his wings, but even that was a stimulant to him. He meant to ease one finger inside her, but that gasp…her praise…her caress… His desire was once again spiraling to new heights, and he actually shoved inside her. Careful. She didn’t seem to mind, though. No, she seemed to enjoy.

“Yes.” A moan this time. Her knee rubbed against his hip. “More.”

Helpless but to obey—would it always be so with her?—he sank in a second finger. She writhed and thrashed and he thought she might even have drawn his blood. His c**k wasn’t free, thank the gods, or in that moment, he would have pounded inside her.

Scratch that. His c**k wasn’t free, curse the gods, or in that moment he would have pounded inside her.

Inside her. He wanted inside her so bad.

After this, after she erupted in his arms, screaming and begging and praising his name, he had to get rid of her. She caused too many problems, fogged up his common sense, distracted him.

Unsoiled, he reminded himself. Take her into town unsoiled.

Keep her, Wrath whined.

I told you to be quiet, he snapped. He didn’t need to war with his demon as well as with his own needs.

And why was Wrath so vocal? he wondered again. Over a female, no less, rather than someone’s punishment. Yes, he’d already figured out the demon liked what Olivia represented. Heaven. Odd though that was. But this insistence…

Was the demon more like him than he’d realized? Both liking and hating what they did, how they killed. He’d always assumed the demon enjoyed the blood-crazes—and the ensuing results. But what if Wrath had always been as helpless as Aeron? As desperate for absolution?

“Aeron?”

“Yes,” he gritted out, Olivia’s voice drawing him out of his head.

“You stilled,” she said through her panting. “I need more. Do continue, please.”

Reverting to her sense of propriety. Enchanting. But he didn’t want to hear her ask him for more; it only weakened his resolve. And he didn’t want to hear Wrath, either.

He silenced them the only way he could. He pressed his mouth into Olivia’s and kissed her.

He meant to gentle things, as he was used to, as he could handle, but she was having none of that and lifted to meet him, her tongue dancing over his, her teeth sliding against his.

Soon she was writhing against him again, moaning. Even reaching between their bodies, tunneling inside his pants and gripping his cock. He hissed in pleasure, in pain. She wasn’t gentle about that, either, and though she didn’t know the way of it, her motions a little too jerky, her touch was so welcome he found himself moving into her hold. Hard, fast, uncontrollable.

A knock sounded at the door.

He didn’t still. He couldn’t. She’d thumbed the slit at the head of his cock, spreading moisture, and in the span of a few seconds, he’d catapulted past the point of return. Reality would not intrude this time.

“Don’t stop,” he told her.

“It’s so…just a little…more…” Her grip tightened. “Aeron.”

Again he jerked in pleasure. He had to cut back a roar as another knock sounded.

“Don’t you dare stop, either!” Olivia screeched, then her tongue was back inside his mouth, her nails all over him, her knees gripping his sides.

In and out he pumped his fingers. Her grip tightened even more, pulling his skin, but gods, the burn was good. So damn good. And when his thumb found her clitoris again, she screamed, loud and long and with so much pleasure a wave of pride flooded him—and with the pride came a release of his own.

A release so complete he didn’t care that he was jetting seed all over her stomach. Didn’t care that he was shouting profanities and slamming his free hand into the headboard and cracking the wood. Didn’t care that what he’d done could damn him in Lysander’s eyes.

As a third knock reverberated, Aeron collapsed on top of Olivia, his strength utterly depleted. Panting, sweating, he rolled to his side so that he wouldn’t squish her.

“Okay,” she said after a moment, sagging into the mattress. “Now I can cross one item off my To Do list. Good job, and thank you. I know other men enjoy cuddling, but I believe you mentioned earlier that you don’t want to do that, so…”

Dismissed, he thought, eyes widening. Just like that.

Hell. No. He was just leaning toward her, meaning to jerk her into his arms and force her to cuddle him, when yet another knock reverberated. Scowling now, frustrated, he drew the sheet around her, popped to his feet and stalked to the door. Someone was about to die.

CHAPTER TEN

WHO WAS HERE?

A naked Aeron threw open the door, and Olivia watched him unabashedly. That beautiful butterfly flew at the top of his back and she had touched it. In fact, his skin was welted and bleeding from where she’d scratched him. Perhaps that should have embarrassed her. It didn’t. She was proud. She’d marked him. Marked the man she lusted after. And he had responded; he had climaxed. She wanted to do it again. Only, she wanted to do more. Go all the way.Stupid intruders.

Who was here and what did they want? If it wasn’t life-and-death, Olivia hoped they fell down the stairs later.

The violent thought, so unlike her, gave her pause. Or maybe such violence wasn’t unlike her. She was new and improved, after all.

And the new and improved Olivia might—might—have gotten Aeron to change his mind about that cuddling by subtly mentioning how much others enjoyed it. And, to be honest, cuddling sounded more delightful by the second. Warmth, strength and raw sex appeal, all wrapped around her.