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The Darkest Surrender lotu-9

Page 27

by Gena Showalter


  He couldn’t help himself, had to have concentrated contact. He jerked her hips backward, slamming the crease of her ass against his erection, the perfect cradle, and as she moaned, he slowed the thrust of his fingers. Within seconds, her hips began pumping harder, faster, urging him to keep the rhythm. He didn’t. He slowed a bit more.

  Soon she couldn’t quite catch her breath, was panting shallowly, raggedly. Her skin heated another degree, almost burning through his clothes. It hurt, but damn, it hurt so good. Especially when her nails sank deep into his scalp, drawing blood. Then every muscle in her body clamped down, her bones vibrating. Again she screamed his name. This time, a second voice was layered over hers, raspier, almost purring, and he knew her Harpy was right there with her, enjoying.

  Two down, three to go.

  “Strider, let me…suck on you…you have to be…hurting.”

  Damn, but he wanted to take her up on the decadent offer. He bit his tongue until he tasted blood. Yeah, he was hurting, but he’d hurt a hell of a lot more if he failed to do this right. “Not yet.”

  “Please…”

  Gods, she was going to kill him.

  HE WAS GOING TO KILL HER.

  Kaia’s legs were trembling, barely able to hold her up. Her blood had reached the point of boiling and she’d long since melted inside. And yet, she couldn’t get enough of Strider. He’d given her an orgasm and she’d immediately craved another. He’d given her another, and still she craved.

  If she felt that way, how must he be feeling? On fire? Ready to burst? Damn it, she wanted him to enjoy their time together, not suffer through it.

  Dizziness consumed her when he spun her back around. He didn’t give her a chance to speak or recover; he simply meshed their mouths together, his tongue thrusting inside the way she wanted his cock to do. When he cupped her ass and lifted her, she had to wind her legs around his waist for balance. The moment she did, he pressed, hard, and the long, thick length of his erection hit her dead center.

  She moaned. He groaned.

  He never stopped feeding her that kiss. It was sweet, it was torture; it was wonderfully debauched and erotic and affected her all the way to her soul, and oh, gods above she was coming, again, before she could work her hand between them and fist his erection.

  “You’re beautiful when you climax,” he said fiercely, his voice strained. “Two more times, baby doll, okay?”

  He didn’t understand. How could she make him understand? The number of orgasms didn’t matter. Not with him. The fact that Strider was kissing her, Strider was touching her, Strider was pleasing her, was enough. No experience would ever be better than this.

  She had to make him understand.

  Kaia’s legs were boneless as she forced them to the ground. He pressed her back into the crystal wall—so cold—and cupped her breasts, squeezing. Lines of tension branched from his mouth. His swollen, still moist mouth.

  She wrapped her fingers around his wrists, applying so much pressure he would not be able to move without experiencing a twinge of pain. His gaze shot up, meeting hers. Those navy blues were glazed, hungry.

  Now that she had his attention, she flung him to the side and danced in front of him, switching their positions. Her claws ripped at his jeans. The material was damp where she’d rubbed against him.

  “What are—” The question ended on a hoarse moan when her fingers whispered along his flesh. His hot, needy flesh. “Kaia, don’t…you can’t—damn it, baby! Do it, please.”

  She’d already moved to her knees. Now, she sucked him deep, all the way to the back of her throat. His fingers tangled in her hair. Maybe he’d meant to jerk her away from him, but as she lifted her head, sucking harder, laving her tongue over the thick vein riding the length of him, he merely massaged her scalp, gentle, tender, as if afraid to tug the strands. “Baby…sweetheart…please.” He was pumping his hips in tune with her mouth, in and out, in and out, still trying to be gentle and slow when his body clearly craved hard and fast.

  Even though she enjoyed pleasuring him like this as much as he enjoyed being on the receiving end, his earlier doubts played through her mind, taking root inside her. What if the number of orgasms did, in fact, matter to his demon? Strider would be her best, hands down, no question, no matter what, but if the number mattered and she failed to have more than four before he had one, Strider would hurt. If he was hurt, he wouldn’t bed her again.

  He’d remember the pain rather than the pleasure.

  Oh…damn. Her point would have to be proven later.

  She stopped abruptly and he groaned as if agonized. He probably was. Two more, she thought. She had to have two more climaxes before she could give him one. She felt selfish and greedy, but she couldn’t risk this. Along with proving her point, she would make this up to him later. Would give him so many orgasms he wouldn’t be able to walk for a week.

  Trembling more intensely, she stood, tugged his hand from her hair and moved it down her shorts, between her legs, where she was hot and drenched. At the moment of contact, a moan parted her lips.

  “Kaia, please—you have to…I need…” His voice was strained, his features so taut he reminded her of a rubber band, ready to snap at any second. And his eyes…his eyes glowed with a mix of blue and red, Strider and his demon vying for dominance.

  “I surrender,” she whispered, arching against him, sliding those fingers deep. “I’m yours and we’ll do this your way. However you want.”

  “No, I want…need…”

  “I know, darling, I know, but keep touching me like this, okay? Touch me like this until I say stop. Then, you’re going to bury this beautiful cock so deep inside me…I’ll never…be the…same.” The last emerged on another moan. The pressure…building again…taking over…

  “Yes,” he growled.

  “Oh, yes.” She moved his thumb to her clit and pressed. A fourth orgasm shot through her quickly, causing her to tense and spasm. She rode the waves of it, not allowing his fingers to slow their ruthless, relentless friction. Her blood, boiling before, became an inferno. Steam actually seeped from her pores, creating a mist around them. She didn’t understand, knew it was weird, wrong, but wasn’t going to worry about it now. This was too important.

  “Kaia…hurry…” Sweat beaded his brow, dripped from his temples. Breath rasped in and out of his nose. “I can’t hold out much longer. Dying…”

  Her undulations never ceased and the pressure built once again, coiling through her. “Just a little more…” Her nipples scraped again his chest, creating more of that decadent friction. “Please, just a little more.”

  “I’m going to come the moment I’m inside you.”

  “Want you to.”

  “Gods, Kaia. I’ve never been this ready.”

  Good, that was good. As much as he needed to be her best, she wanted to be his best. To drive away thoughts of all his others. To be his one and only. Forever.

  “You’re mine,” she said.

  “Yours. Never should have resisted you.” Predatory growls sprang from low in his throat. His free hand slammed into the wall behind him, right beside his thigh, cracking the crystal. He hit again. Split. Again. Shatter.

  All that intensity…all for her… The steam thickened around them and she found herself climbing him as if he were another mountain, hiking her legs around his waist. He shoved his fingers deep, so deep, and finally, blessedly, she shot off. A scream ripped from her, so intense she saw silver stars winking behind her eyelids.

  In the next instant, she was flying backward. She hit the floor with a thwack and lost her breath. There was no time to recover. Her clothing was ripped away. Her eyelids popped open just in time to see Strider, his expression frenzied, his control gone, looming over her. He’d just removed the last of his own clothing. He spread her legs as far as they would go and thrust deep inside her, all the way.

  He roared. But he didn’t come, not yet, and she cried out as she arched up to meet him. Those predatory growls of his be
come savage as he pumped, stretching her. He wasn’t human or immortal, she mused. He was animal and she loved it. And really, she should have been past the point of responding. Should have simply become a receptacle for his pleasure. But as he drilled into her, consuming her, she, too, became lost to sensation, an animal herself.

  Then he stopped. Stopped. He stared down at her, beads of his sweat dripping onto her. “Baby doll?” he gritted, voice rough and gravelly.

  “Yes, I am. Now move!”

  “No. Get you…pregnant?”

  “No. I’m not fertile right now.”

  He was moving an instant later and she was lost again. This was her consort, her man, and they were joined. One. The knowledge was sultry, intoxicating to her. Her claws sliced at his back, flaying his flesh. Her fangs bit at his lips, tasting his blood, and then he was kissing her, too, his tongue thrusting like his cock, branding his taste inside the hollow of her mouth. This was everything she’d ever secretly wanted and she gave herself up to Strider’s possession.

  Yes, possession, she realized. His demon was a part of him, but Strider was a part of her, essential to her survival.

  “Strider,” she gasped. “My Strider.”

  Perhaps his name on her kiss-swollen lips pushed him over the edge, because he released another roar, the crazed sound echoing off the walls. His entire body tensed over hers. Absolute pleasure consumed his face and he pumped inside her a final time, coming…coming…shooting her straight into another climax.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  SHE’D BURNED HIM. LITERALLY burned him. Strider had blisters all over his body. Or at least, he’d had them. The moment he’d climaxed, jetting inside her, his demon had climaxed, as well. Kaia, a strong, capable Harpy, had surrendered to them, utterly and completely, giving them every thing, all that she was, and the unending pleasure that knowledge had wrought in him had given way to shocking strength. The blisters had begun healing mere seconds after forming.

  He’d never experienced anything like it. And now he felt…invincible. Yeah, that was the word. He could do anything. Could topple an army, find Pandora’s box, whatever. His demon felt the same, was even then moaning with abandon, still lost to the sensations.

  Somewhere during the time Strider had spent on his knees, feasting between Kaia’s legs, and the time she’d spent on her knees, feasting between his legs, being her best had ceased to matter. He’d wanted only to be with her. Her, Kaia. No one else.

  She’d become his sickness and his cure, shooting him to heights he hadn’t known existed.

  Now he rolled to his side, keeping her tucked against him. He didn’t want to let her go. Not now, not ever.

  She buried her head in the hollow of his neck, her silky hair tickling his skin. They were both sweat-soaked, and her body temperature had cooled only slightly. His favorite, though: she glowed. Damn, did she glow, all the colors of the rainbow shining from her skin. She made his mouth water for another taste, when arousal should have been impossible. For a year, at least.

  Her fingers traced along the edges of his azure butterfly tattoo, the ink seeming to rise up to meet her, as if craving more of that heat. A deeper burn. He’d never before allowed a female to fondle the mark. That’s where Defeat had entered his body, a constant reminder of Strider’s stupidity. Sometimes he looked at the jagged ink and felt ashamed. Just then, he liked that it was there. He liked Kaia’s attention to the details.

  “You’re not…hurt, are you?” she asked in a voice full of gravel.

  When he wanted to bang his chest and whoop with pride? “Opposite of hurt.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” She asked that a lot, as if she didn’t dare believe his words. “Didn’t even need my safe phrase.”

  She chuckled, but her amusement quickly washed away. She stiffened, getting serious. “So you had a good time, then?”

  He flattened his chin against his sternum, looking down at her. She had her own face angled down, so he saw only that crest of red hair. “Are you serious?”

  Clearly offended, she huffed out, “Would I have asked otherwise?”

  “Did you not hear me roar? Twice?”

  “Yes,” she admitted softly. “I did.”

  “And you still want to know if I had a good time?”

  “Well, you’re not in pain, as you said, so you know you were my best. But there’s no way for me to know about you unless you tell me.”

  Ah. He opened his mouth to respond, but she’d only just warmed up to her subject. “And really,” she continued, “you resisted me for so long. You never wanted to be with me. You made sure I knew we were only temporary.”

  Temporary. The word settled inside his head like a bomb seconds away from detonation. The thought of this woman with another man, naked like this, sated like this, sharing like this… Every cell in his body screamed in protest. Mine.

  If he committed, she would expect forever.

  Usually the word forever made him cringe. Just then, forever didn’t seem like enough time with her. There were too many things to talk about, to do, too many ways to have her, and still practice the old stuff.

  Did that mean he…loved her?

  That thought didn’t make him cringe, either. But loving her would mean putting her needs above his own, above his mission, above everything. If he did that, and then later lost her…losing her would mean losing everything. More than that, she would challenge him constantly, whether she meant to do so or not. She would demand his attention and she wouldn’t let him get away with shit.

  But—and that was a BIG but—he’d thought he would hate living that way. In fact, he’d thought he needed a break from the challenge of simply being who and what he was, which was why he’d gone on that vacation with Paris and William. A vacation that hadn’t lasted long. He’d been bored out of his freaking mind within a day. Bored and more restless than ever, searching for…something.

  Which might explain why he’d gone rushing to Kaia’s side the day she’d called him from jail. Which might explain his decision to act as her consort, without wanting to sign on for double occupancy. But that didn’t explain what he felt now. Possessive on a bone-deep level, protective and exhilarated.

  Bottom line, he needed to be challenged to survive. Not only because the victories from those challenges fed his demon, keeping the little shit happy rather than frothing inside his mind, but also because he felt so alive. And when he was with Kaia, he wasn’t just alive, he was sizzling. Inside and out.

  He recalled how desperately he’d craved her one night when he’d found her in the hallway of the fortress, dressed only in a purple robe, her hair in disarray around her shoulders, her nipples hard and peeking through the thin material, her feet bare. She’d looked well-pleasured and aroused at the same time and he’d wanted to sate that arousal in a way previous lovers had failed to do.

  Thank the gods Paris had stuck his head out his bedroom door and tossed Kaia her slippers before Defeat locked on the challenge of having her. Or so Strider had thought at the time. He’d walked away from Kaia and blocked all images of her from his head. Since that moment, however, he’d been grumpy, no one able to satisfy him. Even his reluctant crush on Haidee hadn’t helped distract him from the Harpy. Now…

  His satisfaction was unparalleled. So was his desire to keep this woman with him. To never again let her go. To never again walk away from her.

  Yeah. He loved her.

  He wasn’t shocked by the revelation. He’d probably known on some deep, primal level all along, he just hadn’t wanted to admit it. Had fought it. No more fighting.

  Kaia was it for him. The one he wanted, needed, had to have. She was the beginning and the end. His. His in every way. His other half, his needed half. He’d resisted her appeal far too long, convinced himself she would be like all the others. But how could she be like all the others when she was so much more, in every possible way?

  To tell her or not to tell her? Would a declaration from him distract he
r from the games?

  “Strider?” Her tone was hesitant, as if she feared she’d scared him.

  When you looked on the surface, she was cocky, confident and unmanageable. When you looked deeper, you saw how vulnerable she truly was. He hated himself for not seeing those vulnerabilities sooner. How many times and in how many ways had he hurt her over the past few weeks?

  He squeezed her tight. “You know I won’t lie to you, right?”

  And he’d thought her stiff before. “Right.” So much dread layered that single word, all hope disintegrated.

  Even as he ached for her, he tried not to grin. “Then here it is, flat out. You were… Shit, there aren’t even words to describe how good you were. I’ve never experienced anything like it, like you, and I loved every damn moment of it.”

  “Really?” she asked again.

  “Oh, yeah. Really.”

  “Well.” She kissed his chest, and she sounded self-assured when she added, “That’s because I’m made of awesome.”

  “And dipped in awesome.”

  “And sprinkled with awesome.”

  “Gods, I love the taste of awesome.”

  Another chuckle escaped her, warm and rich as wine. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure. And I mean that. You’re a goddess, Kaia.”

  Another kiss, soft and sweet. “Nah. That’s just a rumor one of my old boyfriends started.”

  A grin quirked the corners of his lips. “So.” He traced his fingertips up and down the ridges of her spine. “When will you be fertile?”

  “Why? Do you want a baby?”

  “Hell, no. Are you kidding? I’m scared enough about the day when Maddox and Ashlyn’s little Strider and Stridette are running around.” Although, he almost…liked the idea of a little redheaded brat wrecking havoc on the fortress, driving him insane, challenging him every minute of every day. That “like” sort of panicked him. “I asked about fertile-time because I’m trying to figure out when I need to buy stock in Trojans.”

  She scraped his nipple with her teeth. “Smart-ass. Harpies are only fertile about once a year and I don’t hit that part of my cycle for another eight months. Plus, you only have, like, a one in a million chance of making an immortal with me anyway.”

 

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