The Darkest Secret (Lords of the Underworld #7)(16)
Author: Gena Showalter

“Do you understand what I’m tel ing you?” she asked gently.

Again surprise flashed in his eyes, adding tiny pinpricks of amber light to the dark irises. Thankful y, the red was gone.

Something evil. Like…?

Another shiver danced through her. She was coming to love the times his voice drifted through her mind, as warm as his body. “A…demon possession.” He tensed. Tel me everything. How you got here. What your purpose is.

At least he hadn’t flung her away for guessing the truth. Nor did he seem afraid of her. Good. “Okay.”

She lowered his hands to her lap, clutching them tightly. He didn’t protest.

“The demon of Defeat, the one hosted by the Lord named Strider—I don’t know if you remember him from the pictures we’ve seen?”

Micah merely blinked at her.

She continued. “He was in Rome. He had the Cloak of Invisibility. We spotted him, chased him. He managed to capture me.” Bitterness seeped into her tone. She’d been such an easy mark. “I think he meant to kil me, but for whatever reason, changed his mind. A few times, I even caught him looking at me like…you know, like he wanted me, but that can’t be right. He detests me. Anyway, he brought me here. Put me in the room next door to you. I heard you cal ing and basical y clawed my way through the wal to reach you.”

He offered no reply, but his expression was tense.

How long had he been here? she wondered as guilt torched her insides. She should have fought Strider harder.

Should have escaped and found Micah before he’d been beaten. He suffered now because of her.

She’d never be able to make it up to him, but God, did she want to try. “Micah?” Gaze never leaving his beautiful, savaged face, she scooted even closer to him. She placed their twined hands on his waist as she leaned in…closer stil …and softly, gently, pressed their lips together. “I’m so sorry you’re here. I’m so sorry for everything that was done to you.”

At first, he gave no reaction. Not to her words and not to her kiss. He stil didn’t reply. Didn’t flinch from pain or encourage her to deepen the contact, either. Then he stiffened, his fingers squeezing at hers. Then he inhaled deeply, as if he couldn’t get enough of her scent. Then he canted his head and opened his mouth. Not just welcoming her, but encouraging her.

Moaning, she slipped her tongue past his lips, past his teeth, and jerked at the sudden bolt of arousal that speared her. His taste was minty from the wash, but spiced with a dark drug, luring, tempting…demanding a response. A response she couldn’t deny. Her breath grew shal ow, her ni**les pearled and every cel in her body smoldered with the sweetest kind of fire.

More, she thought.

His tongue met hers, rol ed and coiled, danced and sparred, the heat spreading, intensifying. And then he was moaning, pressing more ful y, thrusting his tongue as if their mouths were having sex.

She’d kissed him a few times before and had been disappointed in each of the experiences. This time, there was no disappointment. There was shattering excitement, sultry danger and heady bliss. Her fingers moved of their own accord, up, up, tangling in his hair. Soft, silky hair, the strands baby fine.

More, he said this time, the single word a growl inside her head.

“Oh, yes.” More. She never wanted this to end. She had a mind fil ed with bad memories, yet as she swal owed his exotic flavor, she was swept away by him, the past forgotten, the present a thril and the future something to anticipate. So good. “I don’t want to hurt you. Don’t let me hurt you.”

Stopping’s the only thing that wil hurt me. The kiss must have caused an adrenaline reaction in him, something, because the next thing she knew, he had enough strength to heft her up, forcing her to straddle his lap.

His erection pressed against her needy core, hard and thick, and she gasped. Good? No longer an adequate word. The earth freaking moved. Unable to help herself, she rubbed against him, arching forward and back. Each time she hit him, each time they connected, she released a groan of need. Nerve endings did the sizzling thing, pleasure rushing through her in heated waves.

More.

“Please.” Her voice was little more than a needy whimper.

One of his hands dove past the waist of her pants and cupped her ass. Skin-to-skin, a white-hot brand of possession. His other hand rode up her spine and latched onto the back of her neck. In the next instant, he spun her, basical y tossing her on top of the mattress and looming over her, his weight smashing into her.

The kiss never even paused. Over and over his tongue worked hers, feeding her the ecstasy she needed but also making her ache. Didn’t help when his hips began a slow grind against her clitoris, that hand on her ass forcing her to rise up and meet him, to slide up and down his shaft. The friction burned, burned so damned sweetly. She’d never experienced anything like this.

We shouldn’t be doing this.

For her, it was too late to care about their surroundings, the danger. “I need you.”

Yes.

She would have laughed at how easily he’d been convinced to continue, but at the moment she cared about only one thing. Climax. Her nails scoured his back, probably drawing blood. She tried to temper her reaction, to calm before she erupted, went wild and injured him further, but couldn’t. The ache…was consuming her, driving her, fogging her brain.

“I need…” Haidee wound her legs around his waist and locked her ankles. He palmed her breast, rol ing her nipple between his fingers. Even through her shirt and bra, she could feel the heat of him. The fiery brand. “I need…”

Me. You need me.

AMUN WAS LOST.

He’d placed his hands around Haidee’s neck ready to snap the bone in two. She’d looked over at him with those eyes of pearl-gray, lashes long and sweeping, lips soft and pouty, pink locks of hair fal ing over her forehead. She’d talked of saving him…then a dark emotion had claimed her expression. One he hadn’t been able to read, but one he’d hated.

She had leaned into him, somehow innocent in a way he’d never been, apologized to him as if his pain were somehow her fault, and he’d forgotten his body’s wounds. His forgotten everything. He’d been helpless to do anything but accept her lips against his. Then he’d breathed her in and accepting hadn’t been an option, either. He’d needed to possess her. Own her. Taking everything. Giving everything.

He hadn’t understood the desires, stil didn’t understand them, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The moment their tongues intertwined, his body had become a storm, and this woman had become his only anchor.