by Larissa Ione
Being in a relationship with Thanatos.
You’re crazy. Certifiable with a capital C.
“Regan.”
She looked up. Thanatos had moved closer, and dear God, he’d taken his arousal in his hand and was stroking himself. Every pass of his hand revealed glimpses of dusky flesh against a background of fluid black lines that defined his tattoos.
The effect on her was insanely powerful, and with shaking hands, she peeled out of her stretchy maternity pants and her tent-like top. Were they really going to do this? One look in his eyes told her that yes, they were. They so were.
Though her hands shook, she wriggled out of her bra and underwear.
“Beautiful,” he rasped, and man, she melted. “Come here.”
She obeyed, compelled by the erotic authority in his tone. All her life she’d needed to be in control, taking orders only from her superiors. But something about Thanatos made her want to comply, to for once be okay with giving over control to someone who wouldn’t hurt her. At least, not physically. Emotionally… that was another story.
“What now?” she asked when she was standing directly in front of him.
In answer, he took her hand and placed it on his shaft. His breath hissed through his teeth and his gaze simmered with heat. Her body responded with a jolt of need that electrified every nerve ending. If he so much as touched her now, just the lightest brush of one finger, she’d come.
Squeezing her fist, she slid her thumb up over the satiny head of him, and as he groaned her sensitivity heightened even more, until she was sure that she wouldn’t even need a touch … just the whisper of his breath across her skin would set her off.
“Bed,” he said. “Now.”
Regan’s chest went tight, so tight that every heartbeat hurt. Silly, maybe, since she’d known what he wanted when he carried her into the bedroom, but at the sudden, undeniable reality, she froze in a sticky mire of guilt. She’d caused Thanatos so much pain, and it had all started on that mattress.
In a raspy whisper, she blurted, “I … can’t.” Overwhelmed by shame, she dashed to the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.
“Woman.” His footsteps pounded. “What are you doing?”
She locked the door. “I want to be alone.”
“Too bad. I’m not done with you.”
The walls closed in on her, and how had she ever thought the bathroom was large? It suddenly felt as confining as a coffin.
A sharp rap on the door made her jump. “I said, I’m not done with you.”
Her gaze darted around the room, but what was she hoping to find? A hidden trap door? When no secret passageway appeared, she gave up looking and simply slipped to the cold floor.
“Open the door, Regan.” Than’s voice was low, quiet, which made it all the more frightening. It was the calm before the storm.
A storm she deserved.
“Open the goddamned door,” he said slowly, “or I’ll break it down.”
She wrapped her arms around her legs, bracing for Hurricane Thanatos.
“Regan!” Than’s voice cracked like a whip. “Last chance.”
She closed her eyes and began to count the seconds between the lightning and the thunder. At six, the door crashed inward. His footsteps were like thunderclaps as he came closer.
“Don’t,” she said, in a voice that was much shakier than she’d have liked. “Don’t touch me.”
He inhaled sharply. “Is it the baby?”
“No,” she whispered.
“Then what the hell is wrong with you?”
She opened her eyes, but she couldn’t look at him. Instead, she stared at his feet.
“Regan?” His tone was softer now, tempered with concern. Had fear for the baby brought him out of his rage? “Answer me. What’s going on?”
“I…” She inhaled, as if the air could help her find her big girl voice. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For last time. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ve tried to tell you, but you don’t believe me. I don’t know what else to do. I know you want me to pay for what I did to you, and I’ll do whatever you want. I swear it. But I won’t have sex with you. I don’t want to hurt you again.”
“Hurt…me?”
“What if … when we’re on the bed, you remember being…” Her stomach rebelled, and she had to swallow the sourness in her mouth. “Being drugged and … and held down while I…” A sob escaped her, and she started to tremble so hard her teeth chattered.
“Regan?” He dropped to his knees in front of her, but she still couldn’t look at him. “Regan, listen to me. You were drugged, too.”
Tears stung her eyes. “But everything was so clear afterward. I don’t remember much of the actual…sex… except in my dreams. But I remember afterward it was like crystal, and I don’t understand how I couldn’t have been aware of what was happening—” He touched the tip of one warm finger to her lips, silencing her.
“It was the drug. It makes you unclear on everything you’re doing, hearing, and seeing until you climax, and then it’s like a switch turns on and everything is back to normal. You see what happened as it really was.”
“I still … I still …” She gulped a breath so she could talk. “Since that night, I’ve felt so hollow inside, and as the baby grew, he filled that space, but when he’s gone…” What would happen to her? Would she be an empty shell? Was that what had happened to her mother? “Oh, God, I’m so sorry. If I could take it back, I would. If I could do it all over again, I would. I swear to you.” She was babbling now, her emotions overriding all the logic she’d filled herself with, the logic that had allowed her to justify what she’d done.
She’d been trying to save the world.
Thanatos swore, a harsh, vile curse in Sheoulic. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that to me again.” He gripped her shoulders and forced her to look at him. “I’ve been pissed and putting you through hell for your betrayal, but the truth is that I’ve been too full of righteous anger to admit that if I had been in your shoes, I’d have considered the idea, too. It’s easy to cast judgment when everything goes wrong and you weren’t the one having to do something distasteful for the greater good.”
“It was wrong—”
“Yes, it was wrong, but only because you were tricked. But shit, Regan, what you did was brave. You didn’t know what you were walking into when you came here. You risked your life and did something that scarred you to save people who would probably judge you harshly and will never have any idea what you risked your life for. Yeah, you fucked me over—literally—but you did it for a bigger cause, and it was a selfless act.”
Not entirely. She’d done it for the save-the-world stuff, but Than had been right when he’d said there was always a personal consideration. She’d needed to be useful to The Aegis. She’d needed to be needed.
“I’m sorry—”
“What did I just say? Don’t you dare be sorry. If you’re sorry, if you could change things, that would mean you wouldn’t be pregnant, and I wouldn’t have a son on the way.”
She wasn’t sure she’d heard that right. “But we created your agimortus.”
“And you know what? I don’t care. I’ve been alone for five thousand years, Regan. I’ve wanted children. I’ve wanted sex. I’ve wanted to be with someone. I’d have sold my soul for those things. Maybe it’s selfish of me, but I can’t be sorry, and I don’t want you to be, either.” He hooked a finger under her chin and stared at her for so long she started to squirm. “And I don’t hate you. I hate what you have planned for our son, and we’ll discuss that, but I don’t hate you.”
Than leaned over, and she prepared herself for… she wasn’t sure what for. But it sure wasn’t for him to gather her in his arms and carry her out of the bathroom.
“Are you going to put me in the dungeon again?” she muttered into his chest. God, she hoped not. She was far too tired to fight. She would, because she didn’t know how to do anything else
, but she didn’t know what would be left after she was done.
“Shh.” He set her on the bed and stretched out behind her, his long, hard body against her back. One hand came down on her arm and began to stroke. “I’m sorry.” His voice was a low murmur in her hair. “No more fighting.”
“No more fighting,” she whispered.
“I should be taking better care of you. If you’re hungry, I’ll feed you. If you’re tired, I’ll sit by the bed and watch over you while you sleep. And I won’t hold you to the eight months thing.” He pressed his forehead against the back of her neck, and she moaned at the intimacy of it. “I wasn’t lying when I said you’d awakened something sexual in me, something that frankly scares the shit out of me. But that’s my problem, not yours. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”
“What…” She swallowed. “What if I want to?”
Behind her, he went taut, and she kicked herself for asking him that. They were in a fragile place right now, and he might be all for revenge sex, but maybe he wasn’t ready for intimacy that wasn’t rooted in anger.
His hand slid down her arm to her hip. “I’ll give you that, too.”
She bit back a groan as his palm eased between her thighs. “I don’t want to be a pity fuck.”
“This is so not pity.” He made slow, lazy circles on the skin of her inner thighs, his thumb just brushing where she wanted his touch. “And it won’t be a fuck if you don’t want it.”
Okay, then. She wanted it. God, she wanted it. But what shocked her, what truly shook her so hard she actually trembled, was that she all of a sudden wanted not just an orgasm, but a connection. Just once she’d like to feel what it was to have someone care, not about what she could give them, but about what she wanted. Yes, Thanatos wanted the baby she carried inside her, but his obligation to her ended with food, shelter, and safety.
Making her feel good was a gift, and it was something only he could do. And it was something she wanted from him only.
“I … want it.”
“Show me.”
Tight, shivery arousal coiled in her belly as she reached down and took his hand. Both of them were trembling when she dragged his fingers to her core.
His groan vibrated against her back as one finger slid between her folds. “You’re so wet.”
She arched into his caress, forcing his touch deeper. His cock nudged the seam of her butt, and she instinctively lifted one leg to allow his shaft to slip between her thighs. Desire became a thundering pulse in her veins and a roar in her ears.
“I don’t…” Thanatos ground his hips against her, making his shaft slide hotly against her skin. “I don’t know much about this.”
It must have been a painful admission for him, but that didn’t stop him from pushing one finger inside her and swirling it over sensitive spots like an expert.
“Neither do I,” she gasped, “but I promise, you’re doing fine.”
He moved his hand, replacing it with his cock. His shaft slid back and forth between her thighs, not yet inside her, but still stroking achy flesh with each pump of his hips. Pushing up on one elbow and leaning over her, he captured her chin in his palm and tilted her head back so he could see her. His eyes glowed in the dim light, the hunger in them stark and desperate.
“Kiss me?” There was a vulnerability in his request that had such a powerful effect on her that she almost choked up.
In answer, she lifted her head up and touched her lips to his. Even in this awkward position, their mouths fused in a burning, urgent kiss. His lips parted for the sweep of her tongue against his, and good God, he tasted good. Like ale and bitter chocolate, sin and decadence.
“Please,” she whispered brokenly against his mouth. “Please…now.”
She pushed back against him, and the blunt head of him found her core. For a long moment, they were motionless, their breaths and pulses in perfect unison. Heat poured off him, bathing her in warmth. Need was something they shared, and when she couldn’t stand the tension anymore, he seemed to know, and he entered her in one long, slow thrust.
He eased her head down to the pillow and settled in behind her, spooning. “You okay?” His voice was wonderfully rough.
“Oh, yes.” She arched, taking him deeper, and he groaned.
Her blood quickened as he began to pump his hips. His touch was light, his thrusts gentle, so maddeningly restrained. But against her neck, his breath came in fast, hot bursts.
“All I could think of was you.” He moved faster, his palm sliding over her swollen belly to her center, where he found the sensitive knot that tingled under his touch. “When I was gone, all I wanted was to be back here with you. Only you.”
Twenty-two
All I could think of was you. When I was gone, all I wanted was to be back here with you. Only you.
Thanatos couldn’t believe he’d said that. Five thousand years had shown him that males did and said the dumbest shit when they were inside a female, but Than had always believed he’d be different. If he could ever have sex, anyway.
And what had he done? He’d gone and poured his fool heart out to Regan. He’d just flayed himself wide open like one of the lovesick idiots he used to scorn.
Still, with each slow thrust, he couldn’t deny that it all felt so right. He’d been raised to worship nature, to understand that everything happened for a reason and if something felt right, you went with the flow. The day he was cursed to be a Horseman, his human life was set aside, replaced by anger and violence… all things he’d been taught to avoid.
Only now was he remembering the fundamentals of his youth—the joy of a laugh or eating a meal with someone who wasn’t your brother or sister, the peace of sharing a quiet moment in front of a fire, the crackling energy behind a teasing smile, the mutual love of something as simple as butter on a sandwich.
That was life. Those were the things that made people happy to be alive. It was all coming back to him, and it was this moment, with this woman, that made it happen.
A throaty cry rang out, a beautiful feminine sound that fired his blood. Regan’s silky channel pulsed around him, contracting and releasing in exquisite timing with his pistoning hips. The spooning position restricted his movement as well as the depth of his thrusts, but being able to surround her with his arms, to cover her with his body, and protect the life inside her made it incredible.
Besides, he didn’t think missionary would be comfortable—or even possible—in her condition, and while he’d love to get her on her hands and knees eventually, this was what they needed now.
“Faster,” she moaned. “Harder.”
“Are you sure?” He lifted her leg to allow his cock maximum penetration. “I don’t want to hurt either of you.”
“Oh, yes,” she said, her entire body quivering. “I’m so sure.”
Her assurance snapped the restraints that had held him back. On his arm, Styx reared up like a stallion out of a gate. Thanatos let loose, driving into her sweet softness as if he would die without her. She reached back and buried her fist in his hair, clinging to him, forcing his mouth against her satiny neck. God, she smelled good, like the strawberries and cream soap Limos had brought, but underneath was the earthy aroma Than always associated with power.
Regan was power. The fine muscles in her arms and back rippled as she rocked against him, and her fingers dug into his scalp, guiding his mouth where she wanted it. His fangs elongated, pulsing with the need to bite into her tender flesh, and when they accidentally grazed her skin, he hissed and jerked back.
“No,” she whispered. “You don’t need to hide them anymore. Not with me.”
Her sweet words leveled him. She had every reason to hate what she’d learned about him, but was instead asking him to embrace what he’d kept secret for so long. He couldn’t bite her—he’d never risk that, especially when she couldn’t afford to lose the blood that was nourishing the baby. But he lowered his head to lick the delicate vein beneath her jaw, tasting her bef
ore pressing the tips of his fangs to her skin.
The tap of her pulse against his teeth joined the hammering of his heartbeat, setting his blood ablaze. And as Regan’s panting breaths turned to whimpers and gasps, his pleasure peaked. She joined him with a cry, bucking and arching, and he thought she might have actually called his name.
Awesome.
They lay there in the aftermath, their ragged breaths drowning out the crackle of the fire. That had been … extraordinary. Never had he experienced anything like that, anything that involved the melding of bodies and pleasure and intimacy. Yeah, he and Regan had fucked that one time, but they’d been drugged, and he’d been distracted by fear for his Seal.
This had been the true taking of his virginity.
“Is that…” He rested his forehead against her silky hair, his heart pounding from both exertion and a touch of embarrassment.
Still reaching back, Regan played with one of his braids. “Is that…what?”
Just spit it out. “Is that what it’s always like?” And was he supposed to stay inside her like this? Or was he supposed to pull out? God, he hated this. He was as old as the wheel, as Reseph used to say, and he didn’t know a damned thing about what to do with a woman.
Regan tensed, a subtle hardening of her muscles, a mere sharp inhale, but it was there. “I don’t know.”
He lifted his head to stare at her. “I assumed—”
“That I was a slut.” She dropped her hand and shifted, and his cock slid from her warmth.
Well, shit. He had sort of called her that, hadn’t he? You volunteered to play whore. How many men have you fucked for your job? At the time, he’d been furious, and for all he knew, he’d been right. But in the time Regan had been here with him, he’d seen a woman who regretted what she’d done, who cared for the growing life inside her, who was ready to die in order to save that life. No doubt, she was still the badass Guardian he’d met nine months ago, but he’d seen the emotional, sensitive, vulnerable human beneath her demon-slayer shell.