Lords of the Underworld Bundle

by Gena Showalter

  “No.” How could he, when he craved it more than a tomorrow? “You may not give me another chance. I want to savor every moment of this.”

  “If we’re going to be fools, we need to get it over with. Savor later.” Obviously tired of waiting for him, she latched on to his cheeks and tugged him all the way down. He fell on top of her, and her breath burst out on a gasp. He inhaled deeply, taking every molecule inside his lungs, branding himself with her essence.

  “This means nothing,” she said.

  “Less than nothing,” he lied.

  “I’ll hate myself later.”

  “I hate myself now.” She opened her mouth to reply, but he swooped in and swallowed the words.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  DEAR GOD. How have I lived without this?

  Danika tangled her fingers in Reyes’s silky hair and held tight, her nails scoring his scalp. His tongue was hot, spiced with passionate man. His body was hard on top of hers.

  For some reason, he pressed his palms flat against the bed and lifted so that only their mouths connected. No. No, no, no. She wanted to feel his weight, his heat, his strength and his hardness.

  She shouldn’t. Nothing should matter but her family, her freedom. Yet from the moment she’d seen Reyes lying unconscious, near death, she’d been unable to think about anything but him. Wrong, so wrong. Except how could this be wrong when she felt comforted for the first time in months? How could this be wrong when she felt truly alive?

  Just a little longer, she thought. Once the curiosity abated, once she knew beyond any doubt this man’s taste—oh, God, his taste—didn’t affect her more than any other man’s, she could push him away.

  Later she would act like the smart woman her wonderful mother had raised. She would act responsible, would find a way to question Aeron successfully. She would leave this fortress and never return.

  “Danika,” Reyes whispered. “Angel.”

  Angel. “Don’t stop.”

  His lips were soft, the tiny bit of shadow beard on his jaw scraping her cheeks. Every time he angled his head, taking her deeper with his tongue, harder, and scraping her a little more, a lance of pleasure traveled to her nipples, between her legs.

  She moaned, unable to quiet herself.

  “Do you like my kiss?” he asked. “I’m not hurting you?”

  “I like. Not hurting.” As she squeezed the knotted muscles in his shoulders, she didn’t think she would have minded a little pain. She yearned to have his teeth bite at her and his body pound against her. Inside her.

  “I’m glad.” His tongue swept past her teeth and worked the roof of her mouth, massaging.

  So good, she thought, but still, she needed more. Perhaps she needed everything he had to give. She definitely needed him rubbing against her—why wasn’t he rubbing? Some of her desire waned. Why had he sounded controlled? So…unaffected?

  The questions chilled the hottest flames of her ardor, and she began to notice other things, as well. She had spread her legs but he hadn’t fallen into the offered cradle. She’d clutched at him, desperate for more, yet he remained detached from her, only touching her with his tongue. She’d gasped again and again, yet his breathing was completely unchanged.

  Danika pressed into the pillow, pulling from Reyes’s lips. She was still panting; he was still breathing normally. She glared up at him, unsure what to think.

  “You started this,” she said, anger rising inside her. He had started it and yet he hadn’t really participated. “Why? And don’t give me any bullshit about wanting the need to end. Clearly, you don’t desire me.” Saying it caused the anger to spike.

  His eyelids flickered open. Normally they were so dark the pupils seemed to swallow up the irises. Now they flickered and swirled like a sea of churning emotion, a hint of crimson framing the black.

  Demon eyes.

  She gulped. It was terrifying, being reminded of his inner evil. And yet, still her desire remained. Still, her body ached and hungered. For him, only him. Why?

  Much as she’d tried to convince herself that he was the same as any other man, she’d only managed to do the opposite. He was Reyes, a combination of man and demon, drawing and repelling her at the same time. He was right and wrong wrapped in the same sensual package, with a kiss and flavor that transported her at once to the heights of heaven and the depths of hell.

  He had sprung from her nightmares, yet he had become her fantasy, weaving gossamer wings of desire through her every cell. He was the only thing she wanted and everything she shouldn’t have. She would have been able to pick him out of a lineup blindfolded, his woodsy scent like a tether that bound them together.

  What did she truly know about him, besides the fact that he was possessed by a demon? She knew that everyone else seemed pale and weak when compared to him, wilted carnations surrounding a lone, thorny rose. She knew no one else had ever set her on fire like this. She knew that she’d been cold for a long time and only he had been able to warm her.

  Surely that warmth was drugging her, luring her down this road of temptation. Not Reyes himself. Yes, she’d blame the warmth. For now. The alternative scared her too much.

  “Just get off me,” she said, amazed at her calm.

  “I do want you,” he said, and he sounded tortured, as though knives were being shoved under his fingernails.

  “Liar.” She echoed his earlier accusation as she pushed at his shoulders.

  He didn’t budge. He did frown. “Stop, angel. You do not want me to leave.”

  Angel. He’d called her angel again. Once, in the dungeon, he’d even called her his. She tried not to soften. Men had used endearments on her before, but none had ever uttered one with such a you-belong-to-me-and-only-me undertone.

  “You don’t know what I want,” she snapped, “and obviously I’m not what you desire.” Be happy about that, you idiot.

  Shame coasted over his rugged features. Shame and grief. His gaze fell to her shoulder, where her T-shirt gaped and cotton fell away from skin. “I want you. Swear to the gods, I do.”

  As he’d spoken, his lower body had brushed hers. He wasn’t hard. Her cheeks heated. When he’d first walked to her, his penis had been so hard and full it had strained past the waist of his jeans. One taste of her, and he’d gone limp. Am I that bad a kisser?

  “Don’t make me tell you to get off again,” she said. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I told you this was dumb. I need—”

  “No game,” he interjected hotly.

  She continued as if he hadn’t interrupted her. “I need back inside the dungeon, pronto, and this is wasting my time. I need to talk to Aeron.”

  “First, you will listen to me.”

  “Reyes. Off. Now!”

  “We will talk, Danika.”

  She glared up at him. “Force this, and I will hurt you.”

  His eyes closed again, hiding whatever emotion was banked in them. His lashes were like summoning fingers, beckoning her deeper into a world of shadows and dark seduction. “I can’t—I’m not—”

  “Dungeon. Aeron. Nothing else matters. Talk time is over. Kiss time is over. Like we wanted, it’s over and done. I won’t wonder about your taste again.” Sadly, she knew she would dream of that kiss for the rest of her life. She would dream of what might have been, fantasize about what would have happened if he’d truly wanted her.

  “Danika, I—”

  Again he paused, and she experienced a wave of painful curiosity. “What?” Her heart pounded against her ribs. “Just say it so I can go!”

  His eyelids popped open, fire blazing bright in his pupils. He got in her face, pressing his nose to hers. White-hot breath blistered her skin. “Not another word from you. I have something to tell you.”

  These last few months, her will had been ignored completely. Her wonderful life had been taken away, her existence stripped to the bare necessities. Everyone she loved—gone. Painting, her lifeline to sanity—gone.

  She wouldn’t capitul
ate on this.

  “Not another word, huh?” You’ve trained for combat. You know what to do. Heart pounding, Danika flattened her palm on the cold mattress. Sweat beaded over her skin. Last time she’d defended herself, she’d killed. Careful this time. She didn’t want to hurt this man beyond repair. She just wanted to wound him a little.

  “I never wanted to tell you this, had hoped it would be different with you, but I cannot allow you to think I do not crave you.”

  Block his voice and his bittersweet words. Act!

  “I—”

  Danika struck.

  With all of her strength, she propelled her palm up and into his nose. Crunch. Snap. Warm blood poured from him, spraying her. Reyes moaned. Not a moan of pain, she realized, but of pleasure—exactly the sort she’d longed to hear while his tongue had filled her mouth.

  The shock of that moan froze her in place. What. The. Hell?

  Slowly Reyes turned his head and faced her again. The blood had already ceased flowing, his nose readjusting itself all on its own. Her eyes widened. He was an immortal warrior, yes, she’d known that. He healed quickly. That, too, she’d suspected after the choking last night. But how could she have predicted the explosive need that would appear in his eyes because she’d broken his nose?

  His cock swelled quickly, again as she’d craved earlier, a brand between her jean-clad thighs. What would she have felt if they’d been naked? She swallowed, and Reyes licked his lips, as if he could suddenly taste her there.

  A tremor catapulted down her spine. Their bodies brushed, her nipples against his strength, her softness against his warrior-might, and electricity sparked. For a moment, only a moment, the sensation was painful and the pain was a pleasure inside her.

  Reyes jolted away from her, that dark lightning gone in an instant. He stopped and stood at the far wall, the glistening head of his erection rising above the waist of his now too-tight pants.

  “Reyes,” she said, unsure. Needy all over again, scared and confused.

  “I want you, but I cannot have you unless you hurt me.” The harsh admission seemed ripped from his throat. His shame had returned. His guilt. And hope? “I can only experience pleasure with pain.”

  Slowly she sat up, her brain too fogged to make sense of what he was trying to tell her. “I don’t understand.”

  “Yesterday you asked what demon possessed me. Well, my demon is Pain. It makes me crave physical agony, and the more excruciating the better. Bodily suffering is my only source of pleasure.”

  Just as it had been hers in that single moment.

  No, not a single moment. The truth slinked through her like an ice shower in the midst of a perfect day. It had happened before. Yesterday, when she’d awoken in Reyes’s bed. She’d bitten him, and she’d liked it. “Can your demon enter me?” Her stomach curled into itself. That was impossible. Right?

  “No,” he said, but his gaze had sharpened.

  Don’t think about this right now. You’ll panic, lose focus. “What you’re telling me is that, to be with you, I’d have to torture you?” Over and over again?

  He nodded.

  Her mouth dried, and she suddenly tasted cotton. If she came to care for him—if?—and gave herself to him, what would be expected of her? Would she have to scratch him, pinch him, bite him? “Other women have…hurt you?”

  He gave another grave nod.

  Danika’s hands fisted, her nails cutting into the sheet. In that moment, she had no problem summoning the will to harm someone. The thought of Reyes with another woman propelled her toward a jealous rage she’d never before experienced. “Did that work?”

  “For a while. Pain is pain, no matter the reason it’s meted.”

  “Do you still—” Indulge with those little hookers? she finished silently. “Do you still seek that kind of woman?”

  “Not for many years.”

  The anger and the jealousy melted somewhat. “Do you want me to injure you?” Could she?

  Surprisingly, he shook his head. Dark hair swayed at his temples. “I crave the pain, I will not lie, and I would love you to be the one giving it to me. But…” He licked his lips, looked away.

  “But what?”

  “I would never allow you to hurt me like that.”

  “Why?” The question burst from her before she could stop it. Not wanting to see pity light his features, she pulled her gaze from his face—and found herself staring at fresh cuts in his arm. He’d been slicing grooves this entire time.

  Shaking, she wound her own arms around her middle. That’s what he needed, knives in his veins. She’d always assumed he was clumsy. She gave a humorless laugh. He wasn’t clumsy at all. How foolish she’d been.

  “It would change you,” he said, “and not for the better. You are perfect, just as you are.”

  Do not react. Ignore his words. The conversation was dangerous, and nothing good waited at the end. Either she would lose her mind, beg to be allowed to give him what he needed and be disgusted with herself for doing so, or he would continue to reject her, humiliating her. Get away from him.

  “You said what you wanted to say. I—I need to speak with Aeron now. I’ve wasted too much time. I need to find my family.”

  A blank mask fluttered over Reyes’s face.

  Her chest ached. For him? For her? For what could have been? She didn’t know. “What kind of person would I be if I continued to put myself above them? They might be in trouble, might be scared and worried about me.”

  “I will talk to him again and you may listen,” Reyes countered.

  “But—”

  “You saw how Aeron erupted at the mere sound of your voice. I will talk to him. Understand?”

  She nodded reluctantly. The information Aeron possessed was too precious to stay here squabbling over semantics. “Will you let me go after them? If he tells us where they are?”

  “I’m afraid I will never be able to let you go.”

  It was the second time he’d said that to her, but this time the words were whispered and she had to strain to hear. When his meaning registered, she nearly leapt off the bed and attacked him. Only the knowledge that he would like it held her in place. “Try and keep me here, then,” she snarled. “See what happens.”

  “You misunderstand. I will help you find them,” he said, “and I will escort you to wherever they are.” If they are alive. The unspoken statement echoed between them. “In return, you will not betray my friends to the Hunters. Not even Aeron.”

  Every drop of heat leached from her cheeks, leaving them cold. He knew. Had probably known all along. “I—I—”

  “You do not have to tell me what they said to you, what they asked of you or what you promised them. It doesn’t matter. My knowledge of it could get you killed.” He turned, giving her his back. “Do you agree to the trade?”

  The Hunters had vowed to help her find her family, protect them. But they were mortals, humans like herself. They hated Reyes and the other Lords, wanted vengeance against them and would do anything for victory. Even mow her down if she got in their way, she suspected.

  They had asked for her help, for her to enter this fortress and collect information. So far, she had not lived up to her vow to help them. There hadn’t been time, and she hadn’t had the inclination. Reyes had distracted her.

  Now he was asking her to switch sides completely and trust the enemy.

  “Do you agree?” he demanded.

  “I agree,” she said, but she wasn’t sure she spoke truthfully. She had a phone briefing scheduled with Stefano tonight, and she would do whatever was necessary, use anyone, to find her family. To keep them safe, she would have every single one of Reyes’s friends killed if necessary.

  And ruin Ashlyn’s life. Anya’s, too. Her stomach churned with sickness. God, the equation worsened with every hour that passed.

  She’d already proven she couldn’t destroy Reyes.

  And that was okay. He wouldn’t hurt her family. Or would he? If she conspired again
st his friends, he could very easily morph from sweet protector to murderous demon. Which meant he would have to die, as well.

  Damn it!

  “You will not betray us, even if your loved ones are gone?” he pressed her.

  Were her intentions flashing all over her face? She closed her eyes. “I agree, okay?” she said again, and this time the words were choked. The coming days might prove to be the worst of her life, dashing her hopes, ruining her family…and devastating this man she both wanted and feared.

  Reyes nodded soberly. “Then let’s do this.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “HAVEN’T WE DONE THIS BEFORE?”

  “Didn’t work out last time,” Reyes said. He was standing inside the cell as he had yesterday, but Aeron noted his old friend remained a safe distance away. “I thought we’d try again.”

  “No. I think you’ve returned for more.” Aeron stared at Reyes, who looked every bit the warrior primed for battle. When didn’t he, though? “I think you liked my hands on you.”

  A muscle ticked below each of Reyes’s dark eyes.

  “A few years ago I asked if I could whip you, beat you. Something. I would have stabbed you, even. I didn’t want to do it, didn’t want to hurt you any more than you wanted to kill Maddox each night, but I knew you needed the pain so I was willing. I loved you enough.”

  “And I loved you enough to say no. Remember that?”

  Aeron ignored the question, because he did remember. Thinking of it could deflate him. He petted Legion’s bald head when the creature settled on his lap, saying, “I’m still willing to help you. If you want to hurt, give me your woman.” He laughed, even as fury clouded his friend’s face. “One slice, that’s all it will take. She’ll fall, and your heart will literally break. Pain for eternity will be yours. My gift to you. You can thank me later.”

  The tip of Reyes’s tongue slid over his teeth. A show of aggression. Well, a need for aggression. Yet Reyes remained in place. Unlike Aeron and Maddox, he rarely erupted. He was a man who waited, then struck when his enemy least expected it. “You’ve changed. Once you were desperate to let her go. What happened?”