Paladin (Book Two of the Elemental Paladins series)

by Montana Ash

“This is your last warning: stop pissing me off because you are at the top of my Shit List … And it is not a fun place to be, trust me!”

  Annnnd, that was when the spit landed on the back of her neck.

  SIXTEEN

  Diana wasn’t sure what the tiny evil Custodian had said to the man but Darius was now staring at her with hungry eyes and she found herself instantly hypnotised by the raw desire burning in their depths. Standing up and marching purposefully from the room, she felt helpless against his magnetic pull and followed him outside, careless of what anyone might think of their abrupt departure. The second she exited the building, she found herself pushed up against the rough brick as a wicked mouth laid siege to hers. A hard thigh pressed hers open as two large hands encouraged her to move freely. Darius broke the kiss, panting roughly and leaned down, burying his face in her hair.

  “I love this hair; you know that right?”

  Oh yes. She knew that.

  “Do you know what I dream of every night? What I’ve dreamed of every night for the last eight hundred years?” His voice was low and raspy as he twined the inky coils around and around his fingers. He gave a small tug. Oh, apparently she was supposed to answer.

  “What?” She hardly recognised her own voice, it was so low and husky.

  “I’ve dreamed of this hair wrapped around my cock; caressing and sliding, soft silk over my hardness, driving me insane as eyes the colour of thunderclouds stare up at me with raw want.”

  Oh, holy Gods! Diana couldn’t contain her whimper if she tried. Who knew the man had such a wicked mouth? And such a wicked brain? He had planted the image in her head and now all she could think of was giving it to him. Still, she felt the need to at least try to be the voice of reason here.

  “You’re going to regret this in the morning.” She warned.

  “What’s your point?” His teeth were latched onto her sensitive earlobe now and his growled reply sent shivers coursing through her body. Her point? What was her point? There was something about regrets and mornings … Darius took advantage of her lust induced fog to shove his hand inside her tight black pants, pull aside her silk underwear, and push a finger in deep. She moaned sharply as he set up a swift advance and retreat with the thick digit. The man truly had talented fingers!

  “Come back with me to the house. Stay with me tonight.” His words seduced just as much as his hands did and her answer came in the form of an intense orgasm mere seconds later. Arching and bucking against the hand in her pants, she hummed and sighed her way through the delicious aftershocks, murmuring the word yes over and over again. His hazel eyes appeared to watch the show in adoration and sobriety, even though she knew he had to be acting severely under the influence of all that whiskey. Was she going to let that stop her? She allowed her gaze to rake over his hard, strong body, stopping at the sight of the large bulge in front. Reaching out, she forced her hand between the tightness of the waistband to touch the perfect maleness beneath. Hell no! She thought. There was no way she was going to allow a bottle of whiskey and potential morning-after regrets to ruin another shot at what she held in her palm.

  “Take me home.”

  *****

  Back at the house, she allowed Darius to drag her up the stairs to his third floor bedroom. She had rarely entered his domain, knowing he needed his sanctuary with his telescope just as much as she needed her own refuge. The room was filled with muted colours, largely greys and blacks. It somehow worked but she would love to add a pop of colour here and there. As soon as they crossed the threshold, Darius began removing her clothes, sucking in a harsh breath when her silk blue underwear was exposed.

  “Do you really wear this stuff every day?” He asked, reaching out a reverent hand to cup her breasts.

  She pushed herself more fully into his palms. “Yes. I like pretty things against my skin.”

  “Mercy.” She thought she heard him mutter before he unhooked the powder blue bra and shaped his hands over her now bare skin. The callouses on his palms were rough against her nipples and added an extra friction that was very stimulating. He pushed her gently but surely backwards and she allowed herself to be turned around, welcoming the cool wood of the wall against her overheated cheeks. Darius’s mouth made its way leisurely down her spine and over the flare of her right butt cheek, still encased in silk. She moaned at the sensation and reached back to stroke her palms over his thighs but found her hands captured and pinned to the wall above her head.

  “Keep them there.” Darius’s dark growl sent another spark of lust directly to her clit and she felt it throb in anticipation. She appreciated a man who knew what he wanted. But she was also a woman with wants of her own and Darius had had his wicked way with her last time. It was her turn to play. Besides, ever since he had whispered his erotic fantasy involving her hair, she had thought of nothing else besides making it come true. Breaking his hold and ducking under his arm, she spun around and sidestepped out of his reach.

  His chest rumbled as he spoke warningly, “Diana …”

  She raised an eyebrow at his grumpy expression. He thought she was playing with him. “Easy there, Sir Darius. Don’t you want your dreams to come true?”

  That seemed to give him pause and his disgruntled look cleared only to be replaced by a sexy leer. Crossing his arms in front of himself, he gripped the bottom of his shirt and pulled it off in a slow controlled motion. His abdominal muscles flexed along with his biceps as the cotton was removed, revealing smoothly tanned skin. He toed off his boots one by one, taking his time and it wasn’t until the second one hit the floor that Diana realised the man was giving her a strip tease! He turned around before bending over to take off his socks. His pants pulled taught over his tight arse and his back muscles bunched.

  Socks. He was making socks sexy.

  He winked at her over his shoulder before running both palms down his chest and stomach. The rasp of a zipper sounded loud in the quiet room as it was lowered slowly. Darius finally turned around but didn’t remove his pants, instead he gripped his own length and began to stroke it. Her mouth watered at the sight – she wanted to touch. Taking a step forward, she was stopped when Darius tsked at her, shaking a finger in reproach. He then shook and shimmied his hips until the material of his slacks pooled at his feet. Apparently he was set on finishing his little show. He even turned around again to shake his money-maker at her! And this was the man Cali was concerned had no playfulness in him? Darius was seriously confident in the bedroom! It was sexy as hell!

  Stripped to the skin, Diana now had a completely unfettered view of his entire body. He looked like the statue of David, she thought. Smooth, strong and sculpted. She prowled closer, adding an extra swing and fluidity to her steps, before standing directly in front of him. He didn’t reach for her and she smiled; he was going to let her play. She smoothed her hands over his shoulders and chest, noting the tickle of fine hairs over his pecks and treasure trail. He grunted when she gripped him firmly, not wasting time claiming her prize. Keeping her grip sure, she stood on her toes to outline his lips with her tongue before delving in and exploring the spicy depths more thoroughly. He tasted like sin and goodness at the same time.

  Breaking the kiss, she maintained eye contact as she lowered herself to her knees. But unlike last time when she had latched her greedy mouth onto him, this time she spiked her fingers through her own hair, shaking the locks out over her bare shoulders and breasts. His breath hitched and his dick jerked in front of her. Smiling seductively, she uncoiled a long lock of her black hair and proceeded to wrap it around the warm steel length in front of her. Darius was panting harshly and swearing explicitly before the she even had him half encased.

  Over the next few minutes, she continued to add coils to her ‘hair job’ as she rolled the silky strands over his dick repeatedly. His gaze never once left hers and she found herself just as worked up by the act as he so obviously was. Sensing his eminent explosion, she pulled away. It may be sexy as hell watching him writhe and
curse from her ministrations but it would be decidedly unsexy if he were to make a mess in her hair! Besides, she wanted him inside of her again.

  Rising, she shook out her hair and pushed her now very damp panties down her shaking thighs. She then found herself airborne as she was tossed into the centre of Darius’s king bed. Luckily she was on birth control for the man didn’t seem to be interested in wasting time with it on his end. He hadn’t last time either and if that didn’t demonstrate his sheer breakdown in control, she didn’t know what did! She opened her thighs wide and sighed in bliss as he settled his weight on top of her, kissing her over and over again. She felt the hard head of his erection nudge at her opening so she raised her hips up, welcoming him inside her body. His groan was rough and she found herself spellbound by the raw pleasure captured on his face; his eyes were closed, head thrown back, revealing a strong neck and muscled shoulders. He was a thing of beauty. Her own body was also caught in a web of tangled pleasure. She was breathing rapidly, sweat was causing her now infamous curls to stick to her face and neck, and her lower body was stretching to accommodate the hard length of the man above her. She was in Heaven, pure and simple.

  Darius finally began to move, his control appearing to snap as he braced his arms beside her head and thrust. The pace was furious now, a race to the finish line, as they rolled and plundered, chasing the elusive mutual orgasm. It wasn’t the longest sex session she had ever had but it was by far the most intense, she thought, as her orgasm hit. It caused her to arch high off the bed and into the strong grip of the air paladin who was also bellowing out his release.

  How was it possible for two people to create such overwhelming pleasure together? And how was she ever supposed to give it up?

  SEVENTEEN

  Darius woke up feeling surprisingly refreshed the next morning. His limbs felt loose and limber and his head was clear. He must have slept deeply and peacefully for the first time in weeks, he thought as he made his way downstairs for breakfast. He had even gone for a long run before enjoying a hot leisurely shower. Although the latter part of the evening was a bit foggy to him, the night out must have done him the world of good. He was a little concerned about that fog, but it wasn’t unusual for him to experience memory loss when he was drinking. And given that he had woken up safe and sound in his own bed, feeling like a million bucks – he must not have gotten into too much strife. He trusted his fellow knights to keep him on the straight and narrow anyway.

  Entering the kitchen, he inhaled the smell of a hot breakfast into his lungs. He was positively starving! Axel, Bey, and Lark were the only occupants in the room and they gave him bright expectant smiles as he walked in. It was a little strange, but they were often a little strange, so he chose to ignore them as he lifted the lid on the platter of scrambled eggs.

  “Good morning, Sunshine!” Axel greeted, merrily.

  “Morning.” He smiled back.

  “Good day?” Axel asked.

  “So far …” Okay, so maybe Axel was acting somewhat stranger than usual.

  “That’s great! Oh, here man. I made you something.” Axel said, passing him a tall glass with a straw in it.

  Darius was surprised. Whoever was on breakfast duty typically cooked enough to feed everybody but drinks were their own responsibility. He sniffed the concoction experimentally, “Is this a milkshake?”

  “Yep.”

  Darius frowned at the snickers from the peanut gallery. “Why would I want a milkshake?” He asked, perplexed.

  “Why indeed? Why … indeed …” Axel repeated slowly.

  What the hell?

  “Morning!” Max sang as she breezed in, Cali and Diana in tow.

  The sight of the paladin of death caused a shiver of awareness to spread through his body. Her presence always sparked a gut-deep reaction in him but this time there was something more. Almost like a hint of danger. Her grey eyes met his directly and the stormy depths looked like they were challenging him. But challenging him for what? He honestly had no clue. He also had no idea why he suddenly felt a raging need to feel his fingers tangled in the disarray that was her hair, nor why his dick had sprung to such hard and adamant life.

  “Is that a milkshake?” Max asked, pointing toward the glass still in his hand.

  “Yes,” He answered, “Axel made it for me.” Laughter met his innocent statement. Just what the hell was going on here? “Why is that funny?” He was genuinely confused.

  Beyden patted his shoulder as he passed. “It’s not funny. It’s actually sad; very, very sad!”

  He was beginning to get annoyed, his strange euphoric mood he had awoken with was vanishing rapidly under the haze of ambiguous comments.

  “You don’t drink much, do you?” Max asked, looking sympathetic.

  What did that have to do with anything? Still he responded; “No, I don’t. I don’t get hangovers but I experience terrible blackouts. I can never remember what happened the next day so I don’t drink much anymore and certainly never alone.”

  Max was nodding even as she cringed, “That explains a lot.”

  He narrowed his eyes in concentration. Had he done something untoward last night? Before he could question anyone, Diana brushed past him, her scent stirring in the air. He saw a flash of a semi-naked gypsy woman kneeling in front of him as he cursed and begged and he felt himself go stone-still. He was worried his brain was short circuiting or something because that little fantasy felt darn real! But it wasn’t. No way. Surely, if it was real Diana wouldn’t be calmly eating her breakfast and discussing Beyden’s dance moves from the night before? She would be slapping his face or more likely, punching his face – she wasn’t really a slapper. Besides, there wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to make him forget sex with Diana. There just wasn’t.

  *****

  He didn’t remember.

  He didn’t freaking remember the series of deviant acts they had mutually participated in last night. The ‘hair job’ had been the first of many and Diana had woken slightly sore but very smug this morning. She had left him alone in his bed in the wee hours of the morning, not wanting to be subjected to the inevitable morning after regrets. But this was worse than regrets. The most wonderfully sexually charged night of her life … and the man didn’t even remember enough to have regrets! She didn’t know which urge she wanted to follow more; the urge to throat-punch him, or the urge to curl up and cry like a little baby.

  “I’m sorry, Di.”

  “Hmm?” She answered absently, turning to Max, only to wish she hadn’t when she saw the look of piteous knowledge in her turquoise depths.

  “I didn’t know drinking would cause memory loss.”

  Diana considered playing dumb for all of one second before deciding it made little difference. Max already knew – or thought she did. So she attempted a casualness she didn’t really feel. “It’s fine. I didn’t expect anything different anyway.”

  “Did you even get a chance to talk? I figured after that hand shandy you gave him last night, you would maybe hash things out.”

  Diana sputtered “The what?”

  “Hand shandy. You know, a hand job? You had your hand down his pants when you left Dave’s last night.”

  “Oh, right. Hand down pants. Hand shandy means hand job.” She fanned a hand in front of her flushed face.

  “What did you think I meant?” She asked, curiously.

  “Nothing! Nothing at all.” Diana was quick to assure her.

  “Uh huh … It was more than just a hand shandy wasn’t it?”

  Diana wanted to hit her head against the table … repetitively. “Firstly; stop saying hand shandy. Secondly; … Yes. It was much more.”

  Max’s eyes lit with glee for a moment before dimming somewhat. Her gaze then moved about the room, judging the positions of the occupants. Ryker had walked in about a minute ago and all the men were currently at the island bench, along with Cali. “I’m sorry, Diana. I’m being incredibly insensitive. You’re in love with him and he’s bei
ng a typical male.”

  “Who says I’m in love with him?” Diana managed to ask around the lump in her throat.

  Max threw her small hand out as if to say; ‘Girl, please!’ and that’s when Diana saw it; her way out of this nightmarish discussion. “What’s this?” She asked, inspecting the bruised knuckles on her liege’s right hand.

  Max curled her hand up protectively. “It’s nothing.”

  Nothing my arse! “You look like you slugged someone.”

  Max shrugged, focusing on her cup of Milo. The non-response made Diana suspicious as well as the lack of feedback through the bond. Max was getting very adept at censoring her thoughts and feelings through their bond. It was a little unnerving, given the whole point of the bond was so they were in tune with their liege at all times in order to anticipate their needs.

  “Max …” She queried, mildly.

  “Yes, Diana?” Max returned, just as mildly.

  “Who exactly did you punch last night?” She asked, getting more specific. That seem to attract the attention of everyone in the room, including their Captain.

  “What? What are you talking about, Diana? Max hasn’t been punching anyone.” He stated.

  Diana narrowed her eyes on Max. Nope, she didn’t believe Ryker’s statement for a second. “Come on, fess up.”

  She watched as Max stuck out her bottom lip in a pout as she raised seemingly innocent blue-green eyes to hers. Diana merely arched her own eyebrows. That bottom lip might work on the men, but not on her. Max must have clued in to that for she sighed;

  “You’re all going to make a big deal out of nothing.”

  “What exactly isn’t a big deal, Max? If it isn’t a big deal, then there is no reason not to tell us.”

  “It’s nothing really. Last night, Ignatius showed up and I may have, accidently, beaned him in the nose.”

  Max’s comment naturally garnered an array of ‘you what’s?’ from the entire crew. “Ignatius was there last night?” Diana asked for clarification.