The Darkest Pleasure (Lords of the Underworld #3)(63)
Author: Gena Showalter

Reyes was unwilling to wait to learn the truth. Too much was at risk.

He reached behind him and dug his nails – claws now – into the scabbed flesh on his back. Yes, yes. The pain, the trickle of blood. As expected, heat roared through him, his pleasure intensifying.

"Who is here with you?"

"Don’t stop," she begged.

"Who is here with you?" he repeated, harshly this time.

"You are."

"What is my name?"

"Reyes."

"Who do you desire?"

"Reyes."

His strokes against Danika’s clitoris became frenzied. She moaned over and over, the sounds a symphony to his battered soul. She begged for more; she begged him to stop. He gave the first, refused the last, inserting a third finger inside her and stretching the tightness of her sheath.

A climax slammed into her.

She tensed around his fingers and tongue, inner walls holding him captive. He swallowed every drop of her satisfaction.

When she quieted, he rose above her. Their gazes met and held. She was trembling, sated, her eyelids at half-mast, and yet desire still shone in those emerald orbs. "You didn’t…"

"No."

She licked her lips. "Will you?"

"Oh, yes."

"Do you need – "

He shook his head, the motion clipped. His body burned with unsatisfied passion. Which hurt, wonderfully so. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation. Other partners had whipped his flesh to ribbons, stabbed him, bitten him, but none had tormented him like this. The pleasure-pain sang through him, a discordant melody that offered the sweetest kind of solace. The kind he’d always dreamed of but had despaired of ever experiencing.

How had she given it to him?

"You’re so beautiful," Danika whispered. "I want to paint you, just like this."

"I would like that." Reyes opened his eyes and crawled up her soft body. He removed her bra, the clasp in front easily giving way to his fingers. Her full br**sts sprang free. Her ni**les were still hard, but now he could see how pink and perfect they were.

He licked and sucked one, then the other, and soon she was writhing again. Soon she was begging again. Soon he was lost in the essence of her, the demon urging him on, craving more.

"The Darkest Pleasure"

"Condom," she panted. "I need you inside me. Now."

He nodded, grabbed one of the foil packets he’d stolen from Paris and stored in his nightstand and covered himself. He would not risk impregnating her, even though part of him embraced the idea – craved it. He would never do such a thing to her, never force her to bear the spawn of a demon.

In this, at least, he would not be selfish.

"Ready?" she asked him. She rubbed herself against his erection, slick. Wonderfully wanton. Her ni**les abraded his chest, creating a delicious friction. For once, he didn’t wish razor blades were scraping over him instead. "Ready?" she asked again.

Gods, yes.

He didn’t have to guide his shaft inside her. The tip was already nestled at the brink, ready…drawn to her by an invisible wire. "Savoring," he said. "Need to savor."

She nibbled on her bottom lip. "Waiting is torture. I thought you didn’t torture people anymore."

His mouth edged into a strained smile.

"Now. Please, Reyes."

Unable to resist any longer, he cupped her face and pushed all the way to the hilt, groaning in abandon as he did so. Her arms and legs wrapped around him, not just holding him captive but surrounding him with all that she was.

And just like that, she climaxed again.

Her moans spurred him on. In and out, like his fingers. In and out, like he’d fantasized. His thoughts fuzzed, Danika his only focus. Her perfect body, her thunderstorm fragrance. Her sweet moans and her hands, even now petting his back. Nothing else mattered. No one else mattered. Oh, the exquisite agony.

More. Need more.

His lips claimed hers in a scorching kiss, his tongue plundering. Her desire melded with his, heating, branding. Perhaps her goodness even seeped into him, because lights seemed to blink throughout the darkness of his soul, scattering shadows in every direction.

More!

She writhed, and her ni**les continued to abrade his chest. The sweet scent of her satisfaction enveloped him.

"How can I want more?" she panted. "Can’t get enough. Need…need…"

The pleasure became too much, stinging, and Reyes exploded. He hadn’t had to stab himself. A little clawing, but that was hardly significant. Mostly, he’d enjoyed. A shocked, blissful roar burst from his lips, hot seed jetting from him. His spirit might even have left his body.

He didn’t know what happened, how it happened. All he knew was the pounding of his heart, the clenching of his muscles, the throbbing in his bones. All he saw was heaven. Clouds, the glide of white-feathered wings, the glisten of gold, the rainbow shine of gemstones. Cool air caressed him. He was floating, soaring, weightless.

But then the last spurt of desire left him, and he collapsed atop Danika. His strength, gone. The clouds faded completely, the wings, the gold and gems, gone. He saw utter darkness and couldn’t quite catch his breath. Sweat clung to his skin.

Danika was hot underneath him, panting, trembling.

"What happened?" she gasped.

"Climax." A climax unlike any he’d experienced before.

"No. Reyes, you disappeared."

CHAPTER TWENTY

DANIKA SNUGGLED into the warmth of Reyes’s body. For several hours she’d dozed on and off, lulled by the drugging satisfaction humming through her. Reyes slept like the dead and had not awakened once. Had not shifted, had not made a sound. Twice she’d pressed her ear against his chest to ensure his heart still beat.

Now she remained awake, warm and sated. Except her mind churned, refusing to settle down. Being with Reyes had been…everything she had not wanted. Perfect, wonderful, amazing, sublime. No man had ever pleased her like that.

Every heated touch had sparked a tidal wave of desire. The waves had been never-ending, hurtling her from one plateau to another. And that he hadn’t allowed her to keep emotional distance between them…even now, she shivered. They had connected, body and soul, and she had secretly loved it.

One question tormented her, though. Well, besides the fact that he’d disappeared but thought she had imagined it. Maybe she had. Her climax had been so intense, she could have blacked out, dreamed he was gone and then woken up underneath him. What she wanted to know more than anything was whether or not he’d enjoyed being with her.

Unless he’d faked it, he’d come. But he hadn’t let her hurt him. That’s what he needed to feel pleasure. She’d wanted to do it, too. Not only so that she might have been able to purge him from her system, remembering him as the worst bed partner ever, but also because she’d wanted to give him anything and everything. Even pain. She’d wanted him to remember her as she would forever remember him.