The Darkest Passion (Lords of the Underworld #5)(76)
Author: Gena Showalter

He anchored his free hand under her bottom and tugged her the rest of the way atop him. Their bodies fit together, and her legs opened automatically, cradling him perfectly. He moaned. Yes…yes…

Yes! Wrath agreed.

“No,” she rasped, and wrenched away. She even scrambled from the bed and stood to trembling legs, nearly teetering over.

Both he and the demon wanted to roar. Instead, Aeron settled his weight on his elbows and watched her. Calm. “You want me. I know you do.” Gods, he could smell her arousal just then, heady feminine musk.

“Yes, but I won’t let you rouse my passions and then leave me before I can finish.” She fisted her robe, inadvertently raising the fabric and showing a hint of those beautiful calves. Calves he would lick.

“Olivia, I—”

“No,” she said again, spinning away. Twice she tripped over her own feet as she made her way to his dresser. There, she propped her elbows on the surface and held her head in her upraised hands. “I can’t bear it.”

Was she…crying?

Aeron swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and stood. Not that. Anything but that. He was as naked as she’d promised, his erection waving proudly. “I want you. I’m not going to deny either of us again. This I swear to you, Olivia.”

“Oh, shut up!”

He blinked. Was he making no progress, then? Had his actions ruined everything? “Make me,” was all he could think to say. With a kiss. Please.

“Not you,” she murmured. “The voice. Temptation. He wants me to raise my robe and show you that I’m not wearing anything underneath.”

She wasn’t? Aeron licked his lips and approached. Nothing, not even one of the Hunters’ bombs, could have kept him away after learning that. “I’ll find out for myself.”

Olivia gasped when he placed his now-trembling hands on her hips. Her head lifted and she twisted to peer up at him. Her eyes were huge, watery, and his heart lurched in his chest.

“What—what are you doing?”

“Finding out, like I told you.” First he played with her br**sts, cupping, thrumming the ni**les, until she trembled. Then he dropped to his knees, his hands never leaving her delectable body, but following him down. “You wanted to have fun, so I’m giving you fun.”

“D-don’t do this if you’re going to stop midway. I’ve been through too much the past few days and I—”

“I won’t.” The scent of her arousal was stronger, a sultry night he wanted to lose himself in. “Nothing could stop me now, angel. Nothing.”

Slowly, so slowly, he lifted the hem of the robe. Not once did she protest, not even when goose bumps broke out over her legs. Her smooth, firm legs, a mix of honey and vanilla. When he revealed her bottom and saw that she wasn’t wearing any panties, his c**k jerked in reaction. Beautiful. Even his wings ached from inside their slits.

Mine.

Actually, mine. He bunched the material around her waist, holding it prisoner against the dresser and leaving her lower body bare. He cupped her, spreading his fingers over those delectable cheeks. Again she gasped. Between each of his fingers, he placed a kiss.

“More?” he asked.

“Yes,” she and Wrath breathed in unison.

He kissed the underside and encountered the softest skin her Deity—his Deity now, too, for he realized he would always worship the one responsible for creating her—had probably ever created.

“Aeron,” she said on another of those wispy catches.

“Spread your legs for me.” He clutched her thighs and prodded her into action, even nudging her feet apart with his knees. His blood was like fire, his need sharpening to a razor point. “Now bend over. As far as you can.”

There was only a slight pause before she complied. For a moment, only a moment, all he could do was stare. So pretty. So sweet. So pink. So wet. For him and him alone. Even the thought of sharing with his (once again purring) demon was abhorrent. But he would. He would take this woman any way he could get her.

“Going to taste you now.” He dipped his head and sampled her fully, distantly hearing a slap of flesh upon wood.

“Aeron!”

His gaze flicked up. She’d settled her hands on the mirror in front of her and flattened her temple against the dresser. Her eyelids were squeezed shut and her breaths shallow, her teeth chewing at her lips.

“Don’t…stop,” she begged him.

He didn’t. He ran his tongue over her femininity again, lingering against her clitoris, flicking it, sucking on it. This was ambrosia. Her. Soft and pouty…his. Accepting what he did, liking it.

Though he wanted to consume her, he didn’t allow himself to rush. He’d gone that route with her before. This time, he would savor. This time, he would learn everything about this beautiful body.

“I’m going to… Aeron…”

“Good girl.” He moved his tongue faster, harder against her. Her hips arched forward and back and when he found her opening, he thrust deep inside. She screamed, shuddering with her release.

He didn’t know how much time—minutes, hours, days—passed before she calmed enough that he was able to bend down and kiss—and lick—the calves he’d so admired before rising and paying proper homage to her lower back. There were two indentations, and as he swirled his tongue around them, his hands slid up…up…and cupped her br**sts the way he knew she liked. Both of her ni**les were still gloriously hard, like little pearls, and he rolled them between his fingers.

More.

“I’m ready,” Olivia said between pants. “Come inside me.”

“Not yet.” She was wet, yes, but he wanted her dripping. He wanted her beyond ready. She was virgin, and he would make this as easy as possible for her.

His first time had been with a minor Greek goddess. One of the three Furies. Megaera, the “jealous one,” as she’d often been called. Her brand of loving had been violent and painful, and yet another reason he’d always avoided females who preferred a strong hand from their lovers. With Olivia, though, it wasn’t that he preferred gentle women over wild women, or wild women over gentle women. It was that he preferred Olivia.

As he stood, he traced his tongue up the ridges of her spine—there were scars where her wings should have been, and he kissed them, too, laving them with his attentions—all while yanking her robe up and over her head. Silky hair cascaded down her shoulders and back, even obscuring her br**sts from the mirror’s view. He had to see those br**sts, he thought, brushing that hair aside.