The Darkest Prison (Lords of the Underworld #3.5)(10)
Author: Gena Showalter

She walked to the tub and stepped inside. Her ass, her back…his name. He was on his feet before he realized what he’d done. He wanted to kiss those tattoos, something she would probably fight him over. He wouldn’t apologize for having given them to her, though. Hell, no. He liked them too much.

Nike pivoted slowly, and her gaze met his as she sank into the water. There was no hiding the desire he felt—it consumed him, ate him up and left him as bare as she was. Her expression, however, was blank.

Slowly, she worked the bar of soap he’d brought her over her entire body. She seemed completely unabashed as the suds danced over her, sliding down those magnificent br**sts and hiding beneath the rose petals. She washed her hair, too, and soon the locks were dripping down her face and shoulders.

With every move she made, he inched a little closer to her. He just couldn’t help himself. Finally she finished and stood. Another feast for his eyes. All those curves he craved more than anything else in the world were now wet. He wanted to lick away every drop.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked. Her voice was as devoid of emotion as her expression.

“I need you,” he managed to croak past the lump in his throat.

Finally. A reaction. Relief and desire, such intense desire, claimed her, and she grinned a siren’s smile. “Then have me you shall.”

They were a mimic of his earlier words, and completely unexpected. But, as he’d told her earlier, there was no good reason to analyze a change of heart. Not in either of them. Not now. He had the distance between them defeated a split second later. Had his arms wrapped around her, jerking her into him, a second after that. Their lips met in a wild tangle, their tongues seeking, rolling together. On and on the kiss continued, drowning him in all that she was.

He hated to stop, even for a moment, but he had to remove his clothes. If he didn’t experience skin-to-skin contact soon, he was going to ignite into flames. Panting, he tore away his shirt, his boots, then his pants.

He pulled her back into his embrace. Finally. Blessedly. Skin to skin. Both of them groaned at the headiness. Her ni**les rubbed against his chest, his tattoos, while their lower bodies thrust together. Then she was bending down, tracing those letters with her tongue—and gods, he had never been happier that he had them.

After she’d traced the last one, she kissed her way down his stomach. She dropped to her knees.

Was she going to…please, please, please…but she didn’t like him enough to do it. Did she? “What are you—”

She sucked his c**k deep into her mouth.

His head fell back, and he roared. All that wet heat was ecstasy, surely the first he’d ever truly known, for nothing had ever felt this damned good. Up and down she moved, allowing him to hit the back of her throat.

“Gods! Don’t make me come.”

She laughed, pulled off and licked his sac. “When have I ever listened to you?”

“Vixen.” With a growl, he dropped to his knees, as well. She could taste his seed. Later. More than anything, even more of that ecstasy, he wanted inside her, and he didn’t want to have to wait for it. “Spread your legs for me.”

The moment she obeyed, he had two fingers buried deep. More wet heat. And to his delight…“You’re ready for me.” Never had he been more proud that he’d brought a female to this point.

She trembled, had to grip his shoulders to remain upright. “I’m ready for you every damn time I see you.”

And she didn’t like it, he could tell from her tone, but he could only bask in the admission. “It’s the same for me.”

At first, she blinked, as if she couldn’t allow herself to believe him. So vulnerable she appeared, so—dare he wish?—hopeful. Then she placed a sweet kiss on his lips and breathed him in. “Don’t say things like that,” she whispered.

“Why not? I spoke true.”

“Because they a-affect me.”

Headier words had never been spoken. “Let’s finish this before I combust, sweetheart.”

“Please.”

He was sweating, panting, as he settled back on his ass, reached out and cupped hers. He jerked her onto his lap, forcing her to wrap her thighs around his waist. As her hands tangled in his hair, he lifted her, placing her eager core at the tip of his erection.

“Ready?” he asked hoarsely. This was it. The moment he felt he’d been waiting forever for.

“Ready.”

He thrust up and she pushed down, and then he was all the way in, surrounded by the very thing he had defied his king, his sovereign, to possess. It was better than he remembered, better than he could have imagined. He couldn’t pause, couldn’t give her time to adjust. Over and over he pushed in, pulled out, too overwhelmed by pleasure to do anything but ride out the storm. Perhaps it was the same for her. Her nails scored his back, and her moans rang in his ears.

Gods, he was close. On fire. Burning. Desperate. He reached between their bodies and pressed his thumb against his new favorite place.

“Atlas,” she shouted, her inner walls suddenly milking him.

She was climaxing, lost to all that he was, and the thought drove him over the last bit of the edge, as well. He jetted inside her, lost to all that she was, the most intense orgasm of his life claiming him.

Together, they fell backward, onto the softness of the fur. He kept his arms around her, unwilling to let her go. Now…always?

Yes, always, he thought, and his eyes widened. He wanted her always. Wanted more of this. Had to have more of this. When he’d forgiven her completely, he didn’t know. When he’d softened, he didn’t know, either. He only knew that she’d become an important part of his life. Perhaps she always had been; he’d just been too foolish to realize it.

What the hell was he going to do? They could be together each night after his shift, but they’d never have privacy, and her pride would soon chafe at his amorous attentions, all while he refused to set her free. It would have been the same for him when the situation had been reversed. Besides, she was too precious to hurt in that way. But the problem was, he couldn’t be without her. He’d proven that already.

Damn, he thought next, suddenly sick to his stomach. Damn!

CHAPTER NINE

She loved him, Nike thought. Again. I’m hopeless.

He’d just…he’d been so amazing. He’d whisked her away, given her everything she’d craved: food, water and his body. Gods, had he given her that delectable body. She’d savored every moment. Savored his taste, his touch, the feel of him pounding inside her.Four days had since passed, but she craved more. Always she craved more. She’d spent the time locked inside her cell, pacing, trying to think of ways for them to be together. If he still wanted her, that is. Atlas had come by at least once a day to make sure she was properly fed and that her basin of water was filled, but he’d never said a word to her. Actually, they hadn’t spoken since leaving the tent.