Genesis Queen (The Road to Hell Series)

by Miller, Gracen

  “That I’ll die before I come to you.” She grunted when the burn peaked fast and hot.

  “Such a little liar tonight.” A flash of something spicy flitted across his features. His gaze dropped to her mouth. Then he shook himself and snagged her ankle. Stretching her leg across the sofa, he placed her foot on his lap. No resistance came from Madison as his thumbs pressed into her insole and rotated. Tenseness evaporated from her shoulders and her spine lost its chinks. He’d always been a god with a foot massage.

  Those hands on our body would have us worshipping him like a god.

  Nix was her sex god. She wouldn’t clothe Micah in the same title.

  “My plans….” Her husband brought the conversation full circle. “I want whatever you’ll give me, Madison.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Do you see me cringing in pain?”

  “You may be more adept at hiding it than I am.” Damnation, that’d be so unfair, but plausible.

  He chuckled and worked on her insole. “I always did find your quick wit incredibly sexy.” His thumbs pushed upward to the ball of her foot. “How’s this for a lie? I hate you and want you to die.” Micah flinched the entire way through the sentence. “I want Amos to help me rule Heaven. I want you to be my Queen puppet, give me your power, but I’ll keep you barefoot and pregnant.” Lots more wincing. “Lastly, I want you to be my love slave. I’ll spend an eternity giving you pleasure, gauging my skill by the number of orgasms you receive.”

  Madison shivered. “That love slave part didn’t hurt ya.”

  “Because I meant it.” His fingers stilled and his gaze fastened on hers. She tried to look away, but the intensity of his stare held hers deadbolted to his. “You and our son are my top priority.”

  Not a flinch, a wince, or a minuscule hint of pain.

  Madison gulped. She knew that wasn’t a declaration to amputate himself from Hell. She didn’t think he could even if he wanted to step aside. Built on magic, she guessed it required a reliable source of power—the Kings—to keep it functioning properly. But there was no doubting he meant every word he said and that fascinated her, as well as scared her. “What do the other Kings expect of us?”

  “Not much.”

  “Liar, liar tongue on fire,” she crooned when he grimaced.

  He flashed her a wicked grin. “Imp.” The smile faded and he grew serious again. “Don’t worry about my brothers. I can handle them.”

  No reaction this time, which meant he really believed that.

  Placing all her faith in one person—even if he was a demon King and her husband—felt wrong. “I don’t think so, Micah. I’m a liability if I don’t become what they expect. That places my son—”

  “Our son.”

  “—in danger.”

  “What happened to the woman who basked in my heroism? Who had no problems allowing me to protect her?”

  “She died the day you walked out on me.”

  Silence descended. He reached for her right foot. She groaned when his thumbs went to work on her instep. How did he know the spot that needed the most attention? He seduced her without words. Not fair.

  What will his hands feel like on us when we fuck him again?

  Startled by Lynx’s foregone conclusion they’d end up in bed together, she watched Micah through a different set of glasses. Lethally good looking. Even if his beauty had diminished since his Fall, as he claimed, he still made her stomach flip-flop when she peered at him. Nothing had changed about that since she was a fifteen-year-old naïve adolescent with a paltry family life.

  Disguised as a mortal man, he possessed the charisma of a saint or conveniently enough, a fallen angel. He employed persuasion like the unassuming anti-Christ. And he lulled her with the freedom to accept her demon completely, without regrets, retaining no morals. She wanted his world for the safety Hell lent. A place where she would be accepted by all of them regardless of the havoc she spawned. No censure, ever. There was freedom in that. The fallen angel himself offered a food source so tasty it very well might take an army of dragons to keep her from caving.

  Pure temptation to her demon.

  Dangerous to the human woman locked in a battle between good and evil.

  Madison wanted his offer of Hell as much as she wanted him in her bed. His hands and mouth on her, his dick moving inside her, while she chugged his seraph and came over and over again.

  Temptation? No. His lethality ran along the lines of instant addiction.

  She glanced over his shoulder. Nix lay face down on the bed asleep. Features in shadows, she already had one craving. Could she chance adding a second to her life?

  “They cannot force you to do more than you’re willing. They’ll exercise patience.” She refocused on Micah just in time to catch his gag and a muttered ‘fuck’. She could get used to this forced-truth stuff.

  Angel seraph…the new truth serum. Lynx chuckled and Madison joined her.

  “Not as much patience as we’d prefer,” he conceded and by his expression, reluctantly. Cute that he didn’t want her to worry. “Amos is ours to govern and outside the parameters of Hell’s design.” He peeked at her, his fingers rotating on her foot. “He was a surprising bonus and not part of my original plan.”

  Fixated on him, she watched his hands shift over her ankle to her calf. Strong fingers worked circular strokes upward toward her knee. Moisture pooled between her thighs. She fought against squeezing them together to alleviate the sudden ache.

  Desperate to regain her sense of self without carnality driving her actions, she tugged her leg out of his grasp. A twisted grin contorted Micah’s features, as if he suspected why she placed distance between them.

  Remember the bastard he is. Remember the evil he’s committed against me, Nix, and the world. He had Gage and Zoe murdered to force Nix into selling his lineage. Now is not the time to be turning weak.

  Usha snorted in disagreement. Weakness of the flesh is the succubus way. But our husband offers power, not weakness.

  Grappling with that thought, she asked the first thing that came to mind. “Why’d you fuck Nix?”

  Surprised eyebrows flashed upward as he reclined into the corner of the loveseat. He stretched his leg out and propped his foot in her lap. “My turn.”

  Crap! Touching him would take a lot of self-control. Even if it was just his feet. He had good-looking feet, and she couldn’t say that about anyone else.

  “Afraid to touch me, Madison?”

  Pretty much. She pushed his foot out of her lap. “I didn’t ask for a foot massage, and I didn’t offer you one.”

  He had her number and his grin said as much, exposing white straight teeth that she could imagine nibbling against her skin. Her neck, breasts, and down between her th—

  Oh, hell, no she was not going there.

  Bending his knee, he anchored his foot on the sofa between them. Sea salt, brimstone, and sunshine wafted around her. Micah’s unique scent.

  “Do you want the graphic details or just the highlights?”

  A moment of confusion and then she remembered she’d asked about his sexual relationship with Nix.

  “Highlights.” Spitting the word out was difficult when it felt like her tongue had been replaced with cotton. No way could she handle the graphic details.

  “We consoled one another over your death.”

  She looked away.

  “That bothers you?”

  “Very much.”

  “Why?”

  Madison licked her lips. How best to explain.

  “Look at me, Madison. Explain with honesty, not evasion.”

  She faced him, but kept her focus on his chin. “He’s a straight man.”

  “Not in Hell.”

  “You violated him.”

  “He came willingly.” A slight cant to his head. “Phoenix made the first move. I was receptive. How’s that different from the start of any other relationship?” Madison shivered at the idea of them being intimate. “I….” He
ran his palm down his face. “I’d deny this to anyone else other than you, but I have feelings for him. I wouldn’t take him over you, but I wouldn’t rebuff a relationship with the two of you, either.”

  A testament to how far she’d already fallen, she grew wetter at the idea of watching them together. Alarmed, she vaulted to her feet. A second later, Micah had her on the sofa, between his thighs, her breasts flattened against his chest.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Lust burned hot in Madison’s belly. One of Micah’s hands gripped her hip, while the other palm slid down and over her ass. He held her against him like that, with her hands on his shoulders. Why wasn’t she pushing away? Weak-willed. That’s what her daddy would’ve called her. Among other things.

  Peppermint-scented breath fanned against her lips. “Kiss me.”

  Madison shook her head…or thought she did. Too busy staring at him, while trying to convince herself she wanted no part of his mouth on her body.

  “Then say yes.”

  Another head shake. The seductive allure of his voice sifted through her like a potent elixir. His command was accented in a manner she couldn’t identify as any inflection she’d ever heard before. Her eyes flashed to his. Zen had an accent, Elias too, but Micah typically sounded non-regional. She’d never thought he might be camouflaging his authentic tone.

  “That’s your real voice?”

  “Yes, Madison. The genuine sound of me, the King you married.” He should stop talking; his voice was too sexy and did terrible, wicked things to her libido. But at the same time, she wanted him to keep talking. “What do you think?”

  She liked it. A lot. Too-freakin’-much. Gawd, the twang was better than any British or Aussie accent she’d ever crushed on.

  And the way he pronounced her name in his foreign lilt was like a caress. No. Better. Way better. A finger-to-her-clitoris-and-two-breaths-away-from-a-climax kind of enchantment.

  She closed her eyes. His warmth comforted her. The hard press of his cock teased her. Submission would be too easy.

  “Tell me yes.”

  “To what?” Wrong question. No was the answer. Always the answer with him.

  I don’t want to say no, her demon whispered petulantly. On that they agreed.

  The hand on her hip slid up her spine, slow, a caress in sensuality. Fingers tickled her nape, tangled in her hair, and he drew her closer to whisper against her ear. “Let me hear you purr for me, kitten.” Her breath hitched. “Not because you’re eating my seraph, but because of me and what I do to you.” His hot wet tongue licked her earlobe. “How I make you feel.”

  “N-Nix….”

  Get a better excuse than him because Micah won’t buy it, Usha chided.

  “We can wake him and allow him to watch.”

  Told ya. Lynx chuckled.

  Somehow, she must exert control. But thinking was next to impossible in his embrace, with his breath on her neck and his tongue scaling her ear. Stalling for time, she leaned back to meet his eyes. They’d gone fiery orange; the man had gone angel. She loved his appearance, pale blue skin, a perfect match to his human arctic gaze, and those corkscrew fiber-optic looking wings that fascinated her. Beauty. Stunning. And….

  “You tried to rape me.”

  That’s what you lead with when you want to gain control? Usha made a face. Yikes. Next time, I should be allowed to manage the situation.

  Micah froze. Even his breath halted. “You tried to kill me.”

  “No.” She attempted to push away, but he held her snug against him. “I told you I altered the angle of my blade at the last moment.” An action she should regret. Killing him had been on her agenda until she entered Hell to save Nix. Nothing had been the same since. None of her emotions and damn sure not her resolve to resist Micah.

  “No tongue burn. So you know I’m speaking true. You cannot deny you would’ve raped me if not for Zen.”

  He abruptly released her. She pushed to her knees, staring down at him. He reclined his head against the sofa. Eyes hooded, jaw clenched, his accent rolled around her with the force of a cyclone, ripping away the restraints keeping her arousal in check. “I was angry.”

  “No excuse.”

  “I’ve changed since then.” No physical reaction. He spoke the truth, or at least he believed what he said. “I have a few regrets where you’re concerned.”

  Wow! As far as apologies went, it sucked. But with his pride eclipsing the universe, it’d be as close to an admission of guilt as she would receive.

  “Your fake death altered me in ways I’m still struggling to understand.” More truth from him. His fingers sliced through his hair. “I should not have treated you so…callously. You deserve my respect. Forgive me for my imperfections, or take your knife”—he ripped his tie off, tossed it on the floor and slowly unbuttoned the remainder of his shirt. He nodded at the blade strapped to her thigh—“and plunge it straight into my heart this time.”

  Gripping the edges of the fabric, Micah pulled open his shirt and showcased his ripped torso. Smooth, perfect skin, without a hint she’d stabbed him just a month ago.

  What trickery was this? He didn’t really want her to kill him. If she even could with the blade. The dragon foil hadn’t slayed him the first time, but she hadn’t pierced his heart, either.

  When she made no effort to move, he reacted. Yanking the knife from its sheath on her thigh, he slapped the hilt into one of her palms and forced her fingers around the cool grip. He tugged her arm forward until the razor-sharp tip indented the skin over his heart.

  She shifted. He held tight, denying her effort to withdraw.

  “Make a choice. Right now. Trust me or don’t.”

  “Release me.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “No.”

  Primal agony flashed in his eyes. The angel evaporated, the human remained, and his grip tightened. “You’ve already murdered me. Shove those dragon scales into my heart and put me out of my misery.”

  “No.” The idea horrified her.

  Micah towed her hand forward, sinking the blade half an inch into his chest. The tug of flesh against the sharp edge sickened her. The wound burned, smoldered, and blood oozed down his chest.

  Terrible waste of blood. Lynx sulked, pondering ways to take the blood without eliminating the conversation.

  The defeat on his face terrified her and intrigued her succubus.

  “Stop,” she demanded when the dragon scales sank a little deeper into his flesh. More blood welled around the weapon.

  Pain creased the corners of his eyes and created white brackets around his mouth. The farther the blade penetrated the more the hissing and smoking increased. Regular metal wouldn’t have caused any physical reaction, but dragon scales were toxic to Kings.

  She met the resistance of a rib.

  Madison yanked her arm back and flung the blade across the room. It clattered to the floor.

  “Dragon blade.” The weapon rematerialized in his palm. “Finish it, Madison. You don’t want to be with me. You distrust me. Put me out of my fucking misery because I’m already dead.”

  She’d made no decision to not be with him. As for trust…she was still learning how far she could place her reliance in him. With her life, no question he had her back. But her heart was an altogether different dilemma. His giving up on her pissed her off. “You’re like the Energizer Bunny, you keep going and going and going no matter what I say. It’s the one constant I can count on. I do not want you dead.” The unbelievable fucking truth! “I don’t know if I should be with you. I want to give you my heart again, but how can I be sure you won’t crush it once more?” Oh, God, had she said the last part aloud? She gulped and rushed on. “Since when do you accept defeat?”

  How dare he give up on her!

  “You’re right, I don’t surrender.” The glint in his eyes said he never had. “Ever. My tactics vary, but never my determination.”

  Madison sucked in a harsh breath. He’d played her.
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br />   “Use the knife to impede my determination to have you.” The blade was slapped into her palm again. “Purr for me, kitten, or show me your claws.”

  “Micah—”

  It was all she got out before his hands were in her hair, pulling her down to meet him halfway. His mouth slammed against hers and he plunged his tongue inside to stroke against hers. So focused on the glide of him inside her, she forgot to breathe and grew lightheaded. A moment later, he kicked the coffee table away and tumbled her to the rug. Their gazes held for a split second—though it felt like a lifetime of communication traversed between them—before he settled his weight atop her, chest to chest, belly to belly, hip to hip…jean-clad erection to her aroused pussy.

  Madison gasped and almost came right then.

  A brief twitch to his lips. He knew. And was pleased by her reaction.

  Willpower null, she trembled with need as the blade thumped from her palm to the rug. She wanted two men. Shame should’ve had her pushing Micah away and fleeing to Nix. Or calling out for Zen’s support. She was too wrapped up in the sensual embrace of her husband. Nix and Zen were only scant thoughts.

  “Kiss me, kitten.”

  Those words, in that fuck-me accent, made opposing his request impossible. Grabbing fistfuls of his hair, she pulled him down and mated their mouths. Not for a moment did she fancy to be in control. Micah navigated the pace. Kissed with the finesse of a millennia-old lover. Like a fallen angel who devoted untold centuries to carnal pursuits.

  Soft and slow, then so deep she imagined they were fused together.

  Doomed had just become her middle name.

  An undulation of his pelvis against hers and she groaned. The sound never surfaced. He swallowed it inside him.

  He placed moist kisses down her neck. Ripped her shirt off and continued his wet caress. Her nipples ached for his attention, and she whimpered when his teeth raked over a tight peak. He alternated between them until she begged for him to push inside her.

  He ignored her pleas and licked down her belly. Swirled his tongue around her navel and dragged his teeth lower. Her hand clenched tighter in his hair. She wouldn’t allow him to change his mind.