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Atlantis Series Complete Collection

Page 120

by Gena Showalter


  A possessive warrior, he realized, wanting to grin. He crawled up her body, fit his cock against her moist entrance. “I will only ever crave you, sweet. That much is true.”

  “I need you inside me. I need to feel you, as deep as you can go. Your shaft—and your teeth. Take all of me. Please.”

  Oh, that please… He’d seen the way her expression softened when he’d uttered that word. Now she thought to use it against him, bless her. Inch by inch, he sank inside her, careful, meticulous. Never had he exercised such exquisite care. Finally, though, he was in her to the hilt. They were joined; they were one. She surrounded him, hot and tight and wet, and it was better than he’d anticipated.

  Tenderly he cupped her face. Her beautiful face. His thumbs brushed over her lips. He would care for her all the days of his life. He would ensure no one ever hurt her again. “Ready?”

  “For you? Always.”

  He withdrew from her, almost all the way out, before sinking back in and groaning at the bliss. Her back arched, and her perfect white teeth nibbled on her bottom lip. Her head fell to the side, revealing the delicious plane of her neck. Still he did not bite her. He wouldn’t. Wouldn’t do that to her.

  In and out he moved, in and out he savored her. He stared into her eyes the entire time, and she stared into his. It was as if they were each other’s anchor. As if seeing each other kept them here, locked in the moment, just the two of them, safe and cherished. There was nothing else, no one else, the fruition of every secret yearning he’d ever possessed.

  “Bite,” she commanded.

  “No. You are healing.”

  “No, I am healed. Bite me. I want it. I need it. Don’t deny me this. Please, don’t deny me this.”

  “Nola—”

  “Please, Zane. Please. With you, nothing seems wrong. Don’t make me beg.”

  He could not stand the thought of this strong woman begging for anything. He bit, fangs driving into her neck. The sweetness of her taste exploded on his tongue, through his body, making his muscles quiver and his bones vibrate.

  “Zane,” she cried as her inner walls spasmed around his shaft. “Zane, Zane.” Her hands clutched at his back, her nails digging into his muscles. “Yes, yes, yes.”

  “Nola!” That was all his body needed to propel into its own release. He roared, shooting inside her, filling her up with everything that he was. In that moment, his entire existence made sense. He’d been born to be this woman’s mate. He’d given himself to a demon to better understand this precious woman’s pain. He’d been chosen for the gods’ cruel game to ensure this woman’s survival.

  He loved her. Would always love her.

  And now, he thought, an idea springing to life, he would save her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  NOLA CUDDLED AGAINST Zane’s body, happier than she’d ever been in her life. She’d just made love. Truly made love. And it had been amazing. Her body had hummed with pleasure, and her mind had soared to the heavens.

  Only once had she considered her past, and Zane had quickly defeated the memories, as only a strong, fierce warrior could. No one had ever made her feel as protected or as prized as this man had. She hadn’t thought such feelings possible, actually.

  “Zane,” she said, grinning. She was buzzing with joy, drunk with it, and just might smile for the rest of her life. “Thank you.”

  “I did do a good job, didn’t I?”

  It was the first time he’d ever teased her, and she liked it. A laugh bubbled from her; she couldn’t hold it back. Soon she was laughing so hard, tears were streaming down her cheeks.

  Zane’s lips were twitching. “Some men would take this as a criticism of their performance.”

  “But as you know you did a good job…”

  “I’m not one of them,” he agreed.

  They shared a grin.

  His arms tightened around her. “You said every time you admitted something about me, you were freed from some part of your curse.”

  “Yes.” Reminded of her plight, some of the happiness drained from her.

  “Then do you have something else to admit to me?”

  “Oh. Well… I—I—” Nola sat up and peered down at him. No longer did he appear so confident and joyous. His expression was blank. No, not blank. Fear was sparking in the depths of his eyes. For some reason, seeing it gave her courage. “I love you. I love you so much I ache with it.” The words tumbled from her; she couldn’t stop them. “I can’t imagine my life without you in it. I want to make love to you every night and wake up to you every morning. And I don’t want you to think I’m saying this only because I wish to lift the curse. I’m not.”

  “You are too honest for such a trick.” He grabbed her and rolled her under him. “And just so you know, I love you, too. So much I would die without you. You are my life, my heart, my everything. Wherever you are, that’s where I want to be.”

  She hadn’t dared dream of having a man like him, or a life like they would surely lead, not even as a child. It had seemed too much to ask, too unattainable, and she had preferred to wallow in her sorrows rather than risk hope.

  “The gods didn’t take your ability from you,” she said. “You can still create dreams. For the first time in my life, I see joy in my future.”

  “Oh, Nola. You are my joy.”

  With another laugh, she threw her arms around him and rolled him to his back. Her dark hair fell around him, forming a curtain that left only the two of them—just the way she liked it.

  They made love twice more and spent several hours simply talking and getting to know each other better, before dressing and emerging from the tent. Night had fallen, but vampire warriors still patrolled the area.

  Nola spotted the king and her sister in front of the fire. There was no love lost between herself and Delilah. Nola had once tried to murder Layel, after all. She marched on, determined. Anything for Zane. Still…

  “Will they…what if…”

  Zane captured her hand with his own and squeezed. “They will love and welcome you or we will find somewhere else to live.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want you to lose everything you hold dear because of me.”

  “Nola,” he said, stopping her and forcing her to look up at him. “You are all that I hold dear. Nothing else matters to me.”

  Tears burned her eyes. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

  “It is I who is undeserving. But you have my word, I will do everything in my power to prove myself worthy of you.”

  She pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “You already have.”

  “Nola,” she heard Delilah call.

  Nola turned and Zane wrapped his arms around her, keeping her in the protection of his embrace. The blue-haired warrioress was walking toward her, expression blank. Layel stayed close on her heels, a blade in his hand, as protective of his woman as Zane was of Nola.

  “You are well,” Delilah said.

  “Yes. And you?”

  “Yes.” And then Delilah was there, grinning, pushing Zane aside to hug her tightly. “I’ve been so worried about you.”

  Nola glanced at Zane and he gave her a nod of encouragement. Biting her lip, Nola hugged her back.

  “I thought I was going to have to burst into that tent and give Zane a stern talking to,” Delilah said, pulling back and grinning. “But the moans were of pleasure rather than rebuke, so Layel was able to hold me back.”

  Nola’s cheeks heated.

  So did Zane’s, she noticed. And for some reason, that eased her own embarrassment.

  Layel slapped him on the back. Zane stiffened for a moment, then relaxed against Nola. “Good man,” the king said with a laugh. “Doing our people proud.”

  “Well, shall we go home?” Delilah asked. She rubbed her belly, which Nola suddenly realized was not quite as flat as she remembered. “As protector of this little hellion, I am not the soldier I once was and prefer the comfort of my own bed.”

  A baby. Nola again glanced at Zane
. He offered a soft smile—one that promised they, too, would one day experience such a joy. “Congratulations, Delilah. I am so happy for you.”

  Delilah beamed. “Thank you.”

  The warrioress and her husband shared a tender smile before Layel escorted her a few feet away, to where the horses were chewing on grass. “Zane? Will you be joining us?”

  “We will try,” he said, but didn’t explain further.

  Whether the king understood or not, he merely nodded. “Back to the palace, men,” he called.

  Zane helped Nola atop his horse, then swooped up behind her. Nervousness skidded through her when they started forward. First Layel and Delilah disappeared beyond the trees, then the vampire troops. Soon their turn would come…soon she would know if she was still bound to the camp.

  “Zane,” she said, unable to keep the tremor from her voice.

  He didn’t say a word, just urged the horse into a quicker pace. And then they were past the trees, just like everyone else. They were in the forest, heading away from their captivity.

  “We did it! We’re free!”

  “As I knew we would be.” He kissed the top of her head. “The gods are not the cruel monsters I imagined. How can they be, when they paired us together?”

  Thank you, she mouthed to the top of the dome. Not once did she look back. There was too much to look forward to. “I love you, Zane.”

  “And I love you. It will be my pleasure to prove it to you, over and over again.”

  “Even when mating season ends?” she teased.

  He squeezed her tight. “I have a feeling our mating season will last for eternity, sweet.”

  * * * * *

  For more information on Gena Showalter

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  New York Times bestselling author Gena Showalter returns with a sizzling Lords of the Underworld story about an iron-willed sovereign and the somber beauty who melts him with a glance…don’t miss Cameo and Lazarus’s story in

  The Darkest Promise

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  For more spellbinding tales full of passion and peril, don’t miss any of the irresistible titles in the Lords of the Underworld series!

  The Darkest Torment

  The Darkest Touch

  The Darkest Craving

  The Darkest Seduction

  The Darkest Surrender

  The Darkest Secret

  The Darkest Lie

  The Darkest Passion

  The Darkest Angel (novella)

  The Darkest Whisper

  The Darkest Prison (novella)

  The Darkest Pleasure

  The Darkest Kiss

  The Darkest Night

  The Darkest Fire (digital prequel)

  Complete your collection!

  “The Showalter name on a book means guaranteed entertainment.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  From New York Times bestselling author Gena Showalter comes a scorching series featuring not-quite-reformed bad boys and the women who bring them to their knees. Don’t miss the Original Heartbreakers series!

  The Harder You Fall

  The Hotter You Burn

  The Closer You Come

  The One You Want (novella)

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  And look out for the next two irresistible Original Heartbreakers stories!

  Can’t Hardly Breathe

  Can’t Let Go

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  Gena Showalter welcomes you to the mythical world of immortals, magic and dark seduction in the Atlantis series!

  The Amazon’s Curse (short story)

  The Vampire’s Bride

  The Nymph King

  Jewel of Atlantis

  Heart of the Dragon

  Complete your collection!

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  Don’t miss a moment of heart-stopping action in the EVERLIFE series from

  #1 New York Times bestselling author Gena Showalter!

  Two Realms. One Choice. No Second Chance.

  There is a truth most of the world has come to accept: this is only Firstlife. Real life begins after death. But with the two realms of the Everlife waging a dangerous war over the right to her soul, seventeen-year-old Tenley Lockwood has to stay alive long enough to choose a side.

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  If you enjoyed this story by New York Times bestselling author Gena Showalter, you’ll adore her Lords of the Underworld series, about immortal warriors plagued by demons, and the loves that heal their broken souls.

  Don’t miss the next sizzling Lords of the Underworld tale, THE DARKEST PROMISE. Read on for a sneak peek!

  Cameo’s head canted to the side. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Like what?” Like you are the reason I breathe? “Like I’m hungry, and you are a smorgasbord of desserts?”

  “Yes,” she hissed.

  “Because you are a smorgasbord of desserts.” Lazarus chucked her under the chin. “You wanted to know your worth. You are a prize worthy of any man.”

  “I never said I wanted—” She shook a fist in his face, an action he adored. Her anger always thrilled him. “Stop reading my mind.”

  “Stop projecting.” He stalked down the cobblestone path, calling over his shoulder, “This way.”

  Cameo raced to catch up with him. They walked side by side, the close proximity an agony and a pleasure. Torches lined the path, soft golden lights painting her with irresistible radiance.

  Her eyes were molten, a sea of silvery fire. The night’s warmth brushed her cheeks with an exquisite pink flush. Her bloodred lips were lush and lickable, a temptation like no other and a special kind of torture. One kiss, they said. Satisfaction awaits.

  “Just so you know,” she grated. “I might have desired you before, but I resent you now.”

  “Might?” He laughed with smug assurance. “Your passion nearly burned me alive.”

  She sputtered, her memory loss making her unable to refute his claim.

  Hoping to encourage her irritation and displace what remained of the misery that her demon always spread throughout her mind, he took the lead and pushed a flowering branch out of the way…only to release the branch just before she passed by. The soft flower petals slapped her in the chest.

  She glared at him. “You did that on purpose.”

  “No need to punish me.” Do not smile. “Your voice is punishment enough.”

  “That’s it!” She hooked her hands around his neck and jerked, using the full force of her body. A body she then coiled around him, as deftly as a sky serpent. Her weight and momentum toppled him.

  The action was unexpected. The only reason it worked—of course.

  Upon impact, she maintained her hold and rolled, forcing him to his back. He had no time to react. She straddled his chest, unsheathed one of her diamond daggers and pressed the tip into his carotid.

  Instant hard-on. No one else had ever taken him to ground.
r />   Proof she would only ever weaken him?

  Instant soft-on.

  One of her midnight brows arched, her usual misery edged with smug satisfaction. “You were saying?”

  Such confidence. Such cunning. Was there any woman more beautiful?

  With her hands otherwise occupied, she wouldn’t be able to stop what he did with his own…

  He should resist. A man didn’t play with temptation; temptation played with him. Their association could not end well.

  In that moment, he simply didn’t care.

  Lazarus gripped her by the waist, grunting as skin met heated skin. “So soft,” he intoned. “So perfect.”

  A tremor rocked her against him. His hard-on returned with a vengeance.

  With a hiss, she pressed the tip of her dagger deeper, drawing a bead of blood. Her jaw dropped. “You’re bleeding.”

  Lazarus caressed his thumbs up and down Cameo’s quivering belly and circled her navel. “I still bleed, yes,” he said. His voice dipped. “I’m capable of spilling another fluid, too.”

  “Stop,” she demanded, breathless.

  “Stop giving you pleasure?” He traced his fingertips up, up, and met the undersides of her breasts.

  Beneath the fabric of her bra, her nipples hardened into tight little buds.

  “Yes. No.” She covered her breasts with her free arm. “Stop screwing with my mind.”

  “How about I just screw you?”

  “No?” she replied, a question when she’d probably intended to make a statement.

  Up…up… He slid his hands underneath her arm and cupped her breasts. “Exquisite.” His mind steamed with lust. “Look how responsive you are to me.” Only to me.

  Goose bumps broke out over her arms, and the flush in her cheeks deepened. The pressure of the blade eased. “Did you know 21 percent of women are unable to achieve an orgasm?”

  “Must be the 21 percent I haven’t slept with. I’m an orgasm donor.”

  “You admit to being a he-slut?”

  “I admit to a misspent youth, when anyone in a skirt…or pants…or shorts…or bare skin…would do the trick.”

  She licked her lips, the epitome of wanton. “And you pleased them all?”

 

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