The Darkest Pleasure (Lords of the Underworld #3)(73)
Author: Gena Showalter

"You probably looked like an angel, even then."

Angel. Her heart skipped a beat. "Reyes," she said breathlessly.

"Yes," he replied with resignation.

"I want to be with you again."

The silence returned, a snake that slithered around its prey and choked. Had he truly stopped wanting her? Despite everything he’d just said? He’d had a taste of her, and that had been enough? Or had he just not liked what he’d tasted?

"Danika – "

She growled in frustration. Danika again. "Never mind. Just…shut up and go to sleep." She flipped angrily to her stomach and pounded her fist into the pillow to flatten it.

There was no sound to alert her of any movement on Reyes’s part, but suddenly he was on top of her, his heavy body pinning her down and smashing her face into the mattress. She gasped.

His fingers gripped her neck tightly, turning her face and allowing her to breathe. He didn’t shift, though, didn’t roll off and free her. He kept her pinned. He hovered over her, warm breath lashing out like a whip. From the corner of her eye, she could see his face in profile. His eyes glowed with fire, and his teeth were bared.

Moonlight finally found him, casting a golden glow over his dark, honey-colored skin. He was panting, sweat was glistening. His long, thick erection pressed against her bottom, and she shivered.

"I will not taint you," he snarled. "Do you understand? If that means I cannot have you again, then I will not have you."

"Then you’re dumb! You’ve said that before, and I’m tired of hearing it."

"You have no idea what could happen to you. You have no concept of – "

"You’re afraid I’ll become pain hungry like those women. Well, guess what? That isn’t my nature! I killed a man, Reyes. A human. A Hunter. I hurt him and then I killed him. Have I since attacked everyone I’ve encountered? Did I attack you and your friends when I had every reason to do so?"

"No." Reyes arched into her. "No."

She couldn’t stop her moan. "I made love to you, yet I didn’t then start plotting the deaths of your friends, wanting to hurt them. In fact, immediately afterward I tried to protect you." Made love, she’d said. Before, she’d insisted it was only sex.

"Because I was gentle. Because I kept my demon away from you."

He wanted her to demand gentleness again. He wanted her to demand he keep his demon away from her again. She knew it, felt it, but wasn’t going to do it. "Give me everything you’ve got this time. Let me prove I’m not going to change."

"No. I am not willing to risk it." But he didn’t stop moving against her, rubbing that erection between her cheeks. His hands slid down her arms and latched on to her wrists. He moved them over her head and gripped them with one hand while tracing the other along her side, stopping at the curve of her breast.

Her teeth had long since sunk into her bottom lip. She nibbled, drawing blood. "Yes," she groaned. "Keep going. Touch."

His fingers dug around her, between her body and the mattress, and then he was cupping her breast fully, the nipple locked between two fingers.

A spear of pleasure shot through her. She raised her hips, meeting his erection, silently begging for a more intimate touch. "Remove my shirt. Touch my skin."

"Too dangerous."

"We’re doing this."

"You plan to force me?" he asked with amusement.

"If need be. Now remove my shirt."

Growling as if in pain – sweet pain – he released her only long enough to drag the material over her head and toss the shirt aside. "Gods," he growled. "You’re not wearing any panties."

"I was hopeful." She could feel his jeans against her lower body, rough, like calluses. "Done resisting me?"

How many minutes passed before he spoke, she didn’t know. Finally, he said, "We’ll be gentle." The words were so low, so rough she had trouble understanding them. "We’ll be slow. Like before."

Danika shook her head, hair batting against her temple. "Hard. Fast."

"No. I’ve already cut myself and have no more need for pain."

He’d already cut himself? Since leaving the bathroom? As for the other, she knew he was lying. He’d sounded too reluctant; he would need more. "But – "

His hand once again dug and cupped and she forgot her protest.

"Oh, God," she shouted. "Yes. More."

"Are you wet, little angel?"

She felt as if she’d been waiting for him, for his touch, forever. Desperate and eager. "Find out for yourself."

A moment later, she was flipped over and peering up at him. He was a god, strong and fierce, all of his intense sexuality focused solely on her. His gaze glided over her br**sts, and he licked his lips. Then that gaze moved to her stomach, and her muscles quivered.

He stopped and lingered at the fine patch of curls between her legs. Lines of tension branched around his eyes as his hands gripped her knees and spread them wide. His gaze heated, flames actually crackling inside the black-as-night, starless depths.

"Grip the headboard," he commanded.

She’d been reaching for him, meaning to scrape her nails over his chest. Perhaps draw blood. "But – "

Once again he stopped her from finishing a sentence. "Grip. The. Headboard. Now. Or I’ll return to my pallet."

Was he close to losing control? If so, he needed her to hurt him. Right? She could finally prove to him – and herself – that she was capable of doing this. "Let me, Reyes. Please."

"No. I will not tell you again. Grip the headboard or this ends now."

"Fine. But I am not always going to be so accommodating. Understand?" Eyes narrowed, she slowly reached behind her and clutched the iron rails. They were cold, drawing goose bumps from her flesh. "Happy?"

"Not yet. Not until I taste you."

God, yes. "I want to taste you this time, too."

A moan separated his lips. He liked the idea, but she suspected he wouldn’t cave. He probably assumed she’d explore his body, trying to hurt him while doing so. He assumed correctly.

What would she have to do to prove to him that she wouldn’t be tainted by the violence he needed?

"So pretty," he cooed, all of his anger gone. Two of his fingers played between her damp folds, circling her clitoris.

Her hips arched of their own accord, her body desperate for more of him. "Reyes," she breathed.

"More?"

"Please."

Those two fingers pushed inside her, pumped once, twice, ratcheting up her desire to an uncontrollable degree.