The Darkest Seduction (Lords of the Underworld #9)(76)
Author: Gena Showalter

Liked him better when he was preoccupied. Rather than engage the guy further and risk a fight Strider would have to win to stay upright, Paris nodded. “Right. The goddess.” Finally he understood Strider’s annoying possessive streak. How the warrior would kill another man for even looking at what was his. Paris would kill male or female, god or goddess, good or evil, for making a play for Sienna.

There’d been enough truth in his tone to mollify the warrior. “Okay.” As Strider straightened, he cracked the bones in his neck. “Okay, then. We’re good.”

Paris watched him walk away, and caught Gideon’s amused gaze. The keeper of Lies must have sensed the layer of deception. No one smelled a steaming pile faster than Gideon. No matter how small that pile was.

Guilty, Paris looked away. This shouldn’t be happening.

His demon cackled with glee, still wanting, still needing.

He felt dirty and disgusting and ashamed, was suddenly glad Sienna had chosen not to chase after him. If she saw him like this, he would lose it. He needed a shower. Needed to scrub his skin off, layer by layer, until the last drop of blood drained from him.

When the scent of chocolate and champagne began to waft from him, he cursed under his breath. I’m not sleeping with Kaia or Viola or any other woman here. He didn’t give a shit what his body or his demon demanded from him. He wasn’t allowing it. Wasn’t putting up with it. And you can’t make me, can’t lure them. Do you understand? You stop that right now, or I’ll cut off my c**k and laugh as we wither away.

But…but…

No! No excuses, no pleading. He wasn’t sleeping with anyone today, tomorrow or the next day. Or even the next. No way. No one but Sienna, he thought with a determination that shocked him. And he didn’t care how weak it made him. His hands still tingled from touching all that soft, warm skin. He still had her sweet, tropical scent in his nose. He wasn’t giving that up, wasn’t welcoming someone else.

“Hello. I’m still here,” Viola said, pouting like a child. “Don’t you care that I might leave if you don’t give me what I want?”

He so didn’t have the patience to deal with her right now. “You can’t leave the castle, okay? This is the safest place for all of you, safer than the Budapest fortress. Galen and his Hunters can’t enter without serious injury, and if they try, we’ll all be alerted.”

Plus, he’d seen the crimson streaks over each of the windows and doors, and knew William had smeared his blood there. That meant the shadow monsters couldn’t come inside again.

“Who said anything about caring for our safety? We need portraits of me there, there and there.” As she spoke, she pointed.

“I’ll be sure and alert the decorator,” he said darkly.

“And there.”

Sex hadn’t yet given up the quest to get inside her, and Paris’s c**k did that twitching thing. He gnashed his molars. The goddess was gorgeous, no question about that. Naturally feminine and sensual in a way most could never be, even with centuries of training. And once upon a time, Paris would have been all over her. Cancel out her personality, and she was just the type he used to go for. Lushly curved.

Now, having basked in a satisfaction so complete he would never be the same, settling for anything less held no appeal. Sienna’s lean body did it for him. Made him hunger. Blinded him to others. Her scent, her taste, both had been specifically designed to ramp him so high up no one else could ever hope to reach him.

“You’re beyond maddening,” Viola said.

He was maddening? Right. “You can decorate all you want. Happy?” If he didn’t change the subject, she’d keep that shit up all day and he’d end up introing her tongue to his blade. “So where’s your dog?”

“My little princess is resting in my new room. Travel is so hard on his delicate constitution.”

“Of course.” Because all vampire Tasmanian devils possessed delicate constitutions. And what was up with calling a male “princess?” Paris scrubbed a hand down his face, tired, hungry and torn up inside. Screw this. As soon as he knew Ashlyn and the babies were okay, he was taking off, finding Sienna and making sure she was okay. Then he’d let her go once and for all so that, when he slept with someone else, he wouldn’t be cheating, wouldn’t destroy her sense of trust.

But maybe…maybe he’d be with her one more time first. Sex with her was a revelation, not just because she’d strengthened him, healed him and made him come harder than he ever had in his life, but also because sex with her wasn’t about him. It was about them. Their needs. Their desires.

There was nothing dirty about it. Nothing tainted, one-sided or detached. They touched each other, kissed each other and pleasured each other because it felt good, because passion burned bright and inexorable.

“—listening to me?” Viola threw up her arms in exasperation.

He shook his head, almost told her the truth, and then stopped himself. He did, and her demon would give her fits. She’d probably follow him around like a lost little puppy. “Yeah, uh. I’m fascinated. Interesting stuff.”

Maddox paced back and forth, back and forth in front of him. Reyes tried to stop him with a pat on the shoulder, but the warrior shrugged him off and kept going. Lucien tried next, but Maddox shrugged him aside, too. A mistake. In punishment, Anya tripped him as he passed her.

“Why do I always try to befriend the hopeless causes?” Viola said. “Could you be any more selfish, tuning me out when I have such riveting things to say? Then again, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, you’re married because of me, and you haven’t ever even thanked me.”

“Mmm-hmm. Like I said, fascinating,” Paris said absently. And then her words penetrated. “What’s that now?” He twisted on the bench, pinning her in place with his narrowed stare. “Did you just say the word married in reference to me?”

“That’s right. And I never repeat myself. Except for those times that I do, in fact, repeat myself. But that’s usually only when I’m mentioning how silky my hair is, how sparkly my eyes are and how sexy my body is. Hey, do you think someone has a bag of peanuts? The spicy kind?”

I will not choke the life out of her. “Exactly who am I married to, and when did the supposed ceremony happen?”

“Oh, did I forget to tell you again? You’re married to your ghostly girlfriend, the one you tattooed yourself for. That’s how undead marriages are forged. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, and all that. Well, that’s how one-sided marriages are forged, anyway. She’s not married to you, so she can tap whoever else she wants without violating any ancient laws and having to endure horrible punishment.”