A Lover's Worth (Spawn of Darkness Book 3)

by S. A. Parker

  His jaw clenches. “Do you regret it?”

  “Yes,” I say honestly. “You saw the worst in me that day … the part of me that’s been worn to the nub from spending a lifetime trying to make up for my own shortcomings. I will regret jumping off that cliff for the rest of my life.”

  “Good.”

  I huff out a humourless laugh. “You’re a hard bastard, aren’t you?”

  He looks me in the eyes. “I’ve lost sleep over it. We all have. We watched you throw yourself off that cliff and it was the most haunting thing I’ve ever seen in my very long life … because you were happy about it. You fucking smiled, Dell.”

  I stumble back a step, but his arms catch me. “Sol …”

  “No.” He rubs his hand over his face, exposing just how tired he is. The poor man probably hasn’t slept in days. “I’m not good at this shit, okay? Just … let me get it out.”

  He looks towards the ocean again. He’s uncomfortable, I get that. It’s something I understand very fucking well.

  “One day, when we bring children into this world … I want to know that they’re not being born into a world where the better alternative to living, is for Fae to jump off a cliff to end their suffering.”

  “I ...” Well, fuck. I don’t know what to say to that. I end up saying the only thing I can say.

  The truth.

  “I agree.”

  His hold on me relaxes and he walks me back a step, pressing me against the low ledge and recapturing my gaze. Wedged between some shiny rock and a hard place, I have nowhere to go.

  He picks me up by my thighs, spreading them wide and sits my arse on the balcony ledge. Nestling himself between my legs, he threads his hands around my back, holding me in place.

  The cool morning air brushes over my bare skin—my long, tangled hair floating around us on the breeze. But I’m not thinking about the breeze ... I’m thinking about that erection standing to attention between us. It seems an odd place to put an erection when I’m perched on the edge of a fucking ledge, one misguided thrust away from plummeting to my doom. I may have wanted it all to end back then, but now I know how much I have to live for.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, eyes drifting upwards, taking in every curve and bulge of the naked man standing in front of me.

  He leans forward, wings splayed, and tugs my bottom lip between his teeth, drawing a line of blissful pain that he proceeds to lick better with his tongue; permeating my senses with the coppery tang of blood. “Creating a new memory on a fucking ledge.”

  He reaches between us, fists his cock and begins to roll it over my swollen clit.

  Yup. He’s going to sex me right here, where I’m one slippery arsecheek away from sliding to my doom. I know the man has wings, and he can tear through that shimmering bright place if he wants to rescue me … but what if he miscalculates my trajectory and I end up skewered on a building? I feel like this hasn’t been very well thought through. But right now, perched on a ledge and entirely at his mercy … I’m in no position to argue.

  “I’m going to fuck you slowly, and with purpose.” His voice is gravel close to my ear, my skin pebbling in response.

  My body arches, muscles going taut as he teases me with slick, circular motions. It’s agonizing, exhilarating torture …

  His eyes drag up my body in a thick, languid stroke, coming to settle on my face and painting me with a hungry gaze. A rumbling growl rolls from his chest as his canines lengthen. He swirls his cock around my entrance, my body becoming clay to his touch. I throw my head back and moan to the sky.

  “Look down, Dell.”

  I shake my head, unable to face the overwhelming intimacy of this moment.

  “Now.” He growls, and my eyes snap open at his tone. The hand that was guiding his cock wraps around the side of my face and he curls his body forward …

  He’s so close to nudging his way in. One small movement. One shift of his hips and he’d be inside me …

  “I want you to watch me enter you.”

  Fuck.

  “You’re being kinky this morning,” I jest, my mind’s knee-jerk response to my emotionally-anal Day God being far from emotionally-fucking-anal.

  He quirks a half smile that lights up his face entirely. “Get used to it. Watch.” He grabs my chin and tilts my head, so I have a full view of his cock pressing at my wet entrance, the scent of my arousal infusing the space between us. He shifts his hips and slowly sinks himself into me, inch by glorious, devastating inch, my thighs trembling from their place wrapped tightly around his hips.

  “Holy fuck …” I gasp, shifting my body, trying to readjust to his size filling me.

  He drops his lips to my forehead and starts to move, pistons in and out of me, muscles rolling with the force, his core battling to keep me perched on the ledge.

  I’ve never relied on anyone, much less willingly put my life in someone else’s hands. It’s too much for my little whore heart to handle, my hands coming to grip around his biceps as I struggle to hold on to my fraying composure.

  My body may want this, but my mind’s sinking … fast.

  “Sol … I think I need a moment.”

  “No,” he growls. “You’re going to watch my cock slide in and out of you while I fuck you on this ledge, then you’re going to fall apart in my arms knowing I’ll never let you fall.”

  I open my mouth to speak but he captures it with his own, silencing me with his lips and probing tongue, tasting my hesitation while I feed on his persistence. My frustration airs itself in a strangled moan and he ends the kiss, muzzling my frenzied thoughts with the jerking of his hips; filling me with pleasure, draining me of my doubts with each delicious thrust, while my life hangs in his hands.

  When I finally succumb—my back arching further off the edge, my toes curling in ecstasy, and my core pulsing around his cock as I milk him of every last drop—it’s not just my body that breaks for this man as he hungers over my breast, cradling me while we teeter on the edge of the unknown …

  It’s my soul.

  My heart.

  My everything.

  “Where are the others?”

  Sol’s laying on top of me, his feathers catching the morning light shafting through the open balcony door. I’m surprised I can breathe; he’s so fucking heavy, but I’m strangely enjoying the pressure of his body holding down my own, especially after what we did out there on the balcony, then continued in here ...

  It’s like he’s anchoring me in place.

  The old Dell would’ve been running for the hills by now. The Eastern hills.

  He clears his throat, lifting his head and threading his hands beneath his chin, over the upper rounds of my breasts so we’re sharing breath. “Sleeping. We were up all night.”

  “Sleeping … locally? Do their rooms have balconies overlooking ours? I have so many questions right now …”

  He quirks the faintest smile ever. “I have plenty of spare rooms, Dell. They didn’t want to leave, so I placed them far enough away that they wouldn’t be distracted or woken up by you screaming out my name during the last two rounds.”

  I blush and look away. He knew what was going to happen the moment he climbed into bed with me earlier. “I wasn’t screaming that loud.”

  He grabs my chin and shifts it firmly, so I have no choice but to look at the bastard. “You were, and I fucking loved it.” He steals a kiss, swift but lethal, draining me of the ability to think straight before he pulls back, wings disappearing, and rolls off me onto his back.

  I miss the weight of him but at the same time, I’m really fucking gooey and I smell like I’ve just spent a day in the throes of whoring, except I haven’t … I’ve been mating with my Day God.

  He closes his eyes, tucking his left hand under his head and making me want to bite that bicep that’s bulging so deliciously.

  “I’m going to take a bath before I crust over,” I whisper, getting no response except Sol’s deep, heavy breathing. I kiss his jawline, ca
n almost taste his deep, salty scent. His white hair, cropped short at the sides, falls over his face, masking his left eye. Full, plump lips are almost pouting in his sleep.

  He would hate to hear me say it, but hell, this man is pretty.

  I crawl off the bed and tiptoe through to the washroom, closing the heavy door with a soft thud, hoping the sound didn’t wake my slumbering Day God. He needs his sleep after all those gold vagina stars he just received.

  I parade my naked body across the excessive bathroom floor, ignoring the many strategically placed mirrors. Kinky Sun God, I bet he has fun with those ...

  The constantly steaming bath in the corner extends outside, allowing for both indoor and outdoor bathing options, offering a delightful view of the city below and the ocean beyond. I step into its warmth, sinking low and relishing the feel of the water against my skin; soothing places I hadn’t realised needed the attention. Steam rises around me and the constant, heavy trickle of water sends little waves over the water’s surface, lapping at my nipples.

  The trickling water, the steam, the heavy warmth lulls me. Dancing my fingertips over the surface, my mind starts to wander …

  This time last night, I could never have imagined Sol and I would get to this point. His silver tether tugs at my heart with the thought and I smile. My thoughts shift to Drake, and our golden link does the same.

  How quickly things can change.

  I’m done with disappointing them. Letting them down. Perhaps I need to set my sights on a goal, something my Sun Gods would be proud of.

  Something my mum would be proud of …

  Wading outside, the cool air caresses me. Sun kissing my skin, I close my eyes and dip beneath the surface, feel the webbed tangle of my hair floating around me, rejoicing in the sensation of weightlessness as the water soothes away the remnants of the last two glorious hours. But not the memory … never the memory.

  I sense a shadow blocking the sun. A cloud? No … it’s a clear day. I open my eyes to a watery haze and feel something wrap around my neck.

  I struggle, kicking out, wedging my fingers under what I realise is a thick fucking rope, bubbles pouring from my mouth as the shadow engulfs me.

  Something hard and heavy collides with my temple and knocks me out cold.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I come to nursing a headache in a dark room, cold air nipping at my naked body, peaking my nipples and making me shiver.

  Gods-fucking-damnit.

  There’s nothing except darkness and the scratching, jittery sound of cockroaches scuttling about. Actually, they sound bigger than cockroaches ...

  I’m hanging by my hands, mouth bound, back pressed against a cold wall slick with mildew. My pointed toes kiss the ground, barely keeping the pressure off my aching wrists. There’s an overwhelming stench about the room, a conglomeration of piss, vomit, and shit. Pain, suffering, rape … and death.

  Unfortunately for me, this is not looking good.

  I try to scream but it comes out as a muffled whimper, because of the ball of material stuffed in my mouth, challenging my gag reflex.

  Typical. I’ve gone from sexing my Day God into blissful oblivion to this bullshit. He’s probably furious right now, thinking I pulled some sort of rash stunt again. I look internally for that silver tether, breathing a dramatic sigh of relief when I find it tucked away safe and sound, right next to my golden one.

  My men are safe… well, at least two of them are.

  Something prods my arm—gently at first, before applying more pressure, as though testing. I freeze, try to calm my breathing, my erratically beating heart. Whatever it is feels hairy and by no means small. If I ever wanted a prodding probe to be small, tiny even, it would be now.

  It must decide this new, undiscovered territory is worth a visit because the next thing I know, it’s scuttling up my arm. And yes, it’s large. Very fucking large. It’s probably a bird eating spider that’s developed a taste for Fae.

  Sinking my teeth into the material gag, I try not to move … difficult when you’re hanging by your wrists and teetering on your aching toes.

  A lock slides open with a heavy grind and the large, hairy thing freezes, though that’s not necessarily a good thing—the fucker was almost off.

  Another lock clanks open, and there’s the sound of a chain smacking the door as it falls … they seriously overestimate me. It’s not until the third lock clicks that I finally hear a handle turn. The door is pushed inwards and the room floods with lantern light, causing me to squint away from the assaulting brightness. The smell of cheap tequila and decaying cunt fills my nostrils.

  “Is that her?” The sound of footsteps draws near.

  I blink furiously, my eyes slowly starting to adjust to the light. Finally able to focus, I take in the image of the man—the monster—standing before me.

  I suck in a shuddering breath.

  Fuck.

  I’m fucked.

  Heavy, black bags pool beneath his eyes. Stubble, thick and uneven, clings to a sallow, tight complexion. Eyes black as the night, hair red—as if it’s been dragged through a puddle of blood.

  “That’s her. Get the others,” says the cock from Kroe’s—the red winged legionnaire who put a feather up my twat after beating me senseless a few years back.

  The one Aero tortured.

  I hope fuckery isn’t on the menu, though, by the look in his eyes, I’d say that’s exactly what’s on the fucking menu.

  My eyes dart hopelessly around the room, looking for anything I can use to gain an advantage. But the room is empty apart from a small fireplace set into the far wall, thick logs stacked beside it and a basket of kindling. Something tells me that fire is not just for keeping warm.

  More men file into the room. I don’t have to look closely to know it’s the other splayed Fae from Aero’s dungeon.

  The smell of anger fills the space. They want revenge. I’d stake my life on it.

  I try to swallow the bile staining my throat, my breath thickening, heart galloping along at breakneck speed.

  “She smells nervous.” My gaze darts to a freckle faced, red-haired man chewing on his bottom lip, worrying the bulge in his pants with the palm of a curled hand.

  “Good.” This one’s taller than the rest, thick brows casting deep shadows across his face. His hair hangs in greasy lumps, canines on full display. He sniffs back then spits at my feet, a thick wad of saliva now clinging to my aching toes.

  These men aren’t just here to fuck.

  They’re here to kill.

  I close my eyes, stomach roiling with dread.

  I’m not going to make it out of here alive.

  I wish there were some visible landmarks around, even a window I could catch a glimpse out of, then I could tell Aero where to find me. Even so, he’s probably still sleeping … my Sun Gods probably don’t even know I’m missing, because they were out all night trying to clean up the drunken carnage I created.

  Fuck.

  More boots slap against the ground, someone else entering the room. “You good from here, brother?”

  I recognise that fucking voice.

  My Water God claps the Feather Plunger on the shoulder, and I gag into the material stuffed in my mouth, my body jerking as I lose control of my toes and sway like a flailing animal sliced open, hanging from a hook.

  He told me I was beautiful inside and out. The fucker.

  The bird eating spider clearly becomes spooked by my erratic movements, its hairy legs probing about in a fitful frenzy before its two fangs pierce the flesh on my hand, causing my entire arm to feel like it’s been dipped in a furnace.

  The Feather Plunger frowns and grabs a stick from the cobbled ground, pointing it above my head, using it to coax the creature down the wall. It launches itself off, landing with a gentle ‘thud’, front legs raised in defence, looking like it’s about to charge the bastard.

  I groan into my gag at the sight of it—the size of a small dinner plate with hundreds of keen, bead
y eyes and two fangs dripping with green liquid, that’s now pulsing through my burning arm.

  “Don’t want that thing stinging her too much, it’ll ruin all my fun,” Feather Plunger drawls, using his stick to drive the creature straight out the door. It makes a nauseating squealing sound, then lands against a wall with a thump.

  My head lolls to the side as my vision converges then splits, converges then splits—over and over again.

  “I should leave and get back to Sterling. The Sun Gods spent all night looking for me, I shouldn’t stay in one place any longer than necessary.”

  Feather Plunger nods. “I’m good from here, we’ll dump her down a well when we’re done with her.”

  I groan into my gag.

  My recently renamed Water Cunt nods. “Just make sure you cover your tracks. Sol looked like he actually fucking cares about this one.” He prowls towards me, inspecting my body in a way you might a piece of livestock; tugging at a rope of my hair then hissing in disdain.

  Fucker fooled me from the start.

  The other pulls a blade from the holster around his waist, steps forward and runs the point along my chest—drawing a long, deep wound that spills ribbons of blood down my torso. I scream through the gag and he smirks, sucks air through his teeth, then runs a finger through his handiwork. The salt from his pores makes my flesh burn in protest. “Yeah, well, so did Aero.” He brings his finger to his mouth and inhales the smell of my blood, eyes rolling in their sockets, then he licks the finger clean. “They’re going to learn how it feels to lose something you love.”

  Water Cunt cocks a brow, claps his ‘brother’ on the shoulder and walks out. I’m left with nine leering men, shadows of their former selves, who undoubtedly blame me for the fact they lost their immortality.

  Feather Plunger drags two bulging sacks into the room, followed by a chair, then a large bucket of water before closing the door behind him; latching it shut on the inside with a bolt and padlock he pulls from his pocket.