The Darkest Passion (Lords of the Underworld #5)(99)
Author: Gena Showalter

He waited for rage to fill him. It didn’t. He waited for sadness to overwhelm him. It didn’t. He waited for the urge to drop to his knees and cry and beg for more time to claim him. Again, it didn’t.

He’d lived for thousands of years. And now, having met Olivia, he’d led a full and glorious life. Because he’d loved. His friends, definitely. His surrogate daughter, Legion, despite her recent actions. But mostly Olivia. He loved her. He could deny the emotion no longer. She was his. She was Wrath’s. Their reason for being. The source of their happiness. Their obsession.

Their heaven.

He would have chased her all over the world, just for a few more minutes of her time. Minutes. Perhaps all they had left now, he mused, rather than the days he’d thought to fight for. She was his everything, and he wasn’t going to waste any more of their remaining time away from her.

Finally, he understood the humans. They didn’t beg for more time because they wanted to spend what they had left enjoying each other. Not wishing for what could have been.

Wrath must have understood, as well. The demon wasn’t crying, wasn’t urging him to change his course. Without the angel, they had nothing. And as long as they completed their mission—Galen’s destruction—they could die happy.

“Aeron,” Strider prompted.

He forced himself back to the present. “Who takes my head?” He would still have to be with Legion. That couldn’t change. He wouldn’t allow his friends to deal with a mess of his creation without him, but he would take care of that once Olivia was gone and avenged. And then, then he could die in peace. It would be better that way, anyway. He didn’t want to live without his Olivia.

Now he wouldn’t have to.

“Lysander. I think. Cronus and Rhea are there. I’ve talked to the others and we decided—”

“Later,” he said. What the others speculated didn’t matter right now. If they didn’t have facts, they didn’t have anything he needed. “Tell me later. I appreciate the warning, but like I said, I’m busy now.” He pushed his way back into his bedroom and shut the door, his gaze remaining on Strider until the wood blocked them.

Any other time, the confusion and concern on Strider’s face would have made him laugh.

There was a knock. “Aeron. Come on, man.”

“Go away or I swear to the gods I’ll cut out your tongue and nail it to my wall.”

That earned a growl. “Shut your mouth, Wrath. I’m trying to ignore the challenge in your tone, but it’s not working. Now listen. We can’t lose you. We can’t go through something like that again. We just can’t.” As he spoke, Strider pounded at the wood. “You remember how it was after Baden.”

Not going there. Aeron opened the door, punched his friend in the face and shut it again.

Only a heartbeat later, Strider opened the door himself, punched Aeron twice, smiled sweetly, although a bit sadly, and replaced the block between them. “I won. As for the other thing, you’ve got thirty minutes, and then every single one of us will be inside that room to talk to you. Understand?”

“Yes.” Unfortunately.

Footsteps echoed.

Behind him, Aeron heard Olivia sit up. “What’s he talking about? Losing you? And why were you punching each other?”

At the sound of her voice, Wrath uttered a sigh of contentment.

Slowly Aeron turned and faced her. Having her worry wasn’t something he would allow, so he offered her a grin, one he hoped conveyed everything he felt for her. Perhaps it did. Her eyes widened, and she nervously licked her lips.

“Ignore him. I think he’s suffering from brain damage.” Which wasn’t necessarily a lie. Aeron had always considered the warrior a bit deranged. “Besides, we have unfinished business. I’ve never had you in a bed, and I really want you in a bed.”

Yes!

At first, she gave no reaction. Then, before panic could bloom inside him at the thought of a rejection—no!—she reached up to the collar of her robe and pulled. The material parted, revealing those beautiful br**sts with their pink, pearled ni**les, that smooth stomach and those long, perfect legs.

“I would like that.”

Yes, yes.

A tremor traveled the length of him, his shaft filling, hardening. He stalked toward her, stripping along the way. A process that included kicking off his boots and stumbling over himself because he refused to stop, even for a second. Skin to skin. That’s what he needed. When he reached her, he was as naked as she was. He crawled up her luscious body, settling some of his weight atop her.

Perfect. Heat, so much heat. They both hissed in a breath. She closed her eyes and arched against him, even as her hands clutched at his back. Her neck was exposed, her pulse hammering wildly. Her lips were parted, and her hair in tangles around her shoulders.

Passion had never looked more exquisite.

He should have spent every minute of their half hour pleasuring her senseless. Licking her, tasting her, sucking her. He should have started at her toes and worked his way to her mouth. He should have lingered over her thighs and her br**sts. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He had to be inside her, couldn’t go another minute without being joined, totally and completely, with her.

“Lock your ankles on my back,” he commanded.

She didn’t hesitate. Obeyed instantly.

The moment she was opened up to him, he was shoving inside. Deep, so deep. As deep as he could go. A moan left her, because it wasn’t the easiest of fits. His second thrust was a little smoother, though, and his third a rapturous glide.

“Aeron,” she gasped out.

Mine.

Ours. Learn to share, Wrath. I’ve had to. He braced his hands at her temples and rose, just a little, drinking her in while he moved in and out, in and out. He couldn’t have stilled had Galen burst into the room and placed a gun to his head. This woman delighted him, frustrated him, enraptured him, angered him…belonged to him. As he belonged to her. He wanted to brand her, so that she’d never forget him. He wanted to erase himself from her memory, so that she’d never remember him.

He didn’t want her to suffer when they parted. He wanted her to find someone else—just as much as he wanted to kill that someone else. But mostly, he wanted her to be happy. To smile. To have her fun.

Fun. Yes. That’s what he’d give her this day. Fun.

“Did I ever tell you why it’s bad to be a penis?” he asked, slowing his thrusts.

Her eyes blinked open. Passion still glowed in those sky-blue depths, but mixed with it was sudden confusion. “Wh-what?”