Pleasure Unbound

by Larissa Ione

  Tayla burrowed into Eidolon’s chest, wishing he’d stop asking, stop acting as if he cared. Because every touch, every gentle word, broke down her walls when she should be building them stronger. People who cared about her had a habit of dying . . . or trying to kill her.

  For a long time, she listened to the sound of his breathing and the beat of his heart. He said nothing, wearing her down with her own thoughts. Finally, she pulled back a little.

  “I was sixteen,” she said, her voice sounding raw to her ears. “I came home from school and heard strange noises from the kitchen. I saw her, my mom. She was on the table. Being raped.”

  Eidolon had been stroking her hair, and his hand stilled. “Demon?”

  “Soulshredder.”

  “Gods,” he whispered. “It doesn’t get much worse than that.”

  No, it didn’t. Soulshredders got off on tormenting their victims, slowly, over long periods of time, driving them mad rather than killing them outright.

  “I tried to fight, but . . . it was strong and I was terrified . . . it lashed me to a chair and forced me to watch as it raped her, over and over. She couldn’t scream because it had gagged her.” A dishtowel had plugged her mom’s mouth, the spaghetti stains from the previous night’s dinner distinguishable from the blood. Her flesh had been plowed by serrated claws. She’d looked like a bear’s scratching post, and the smell of her blood had been powerful enough for Tayla to taste.

  “Then . . . oh, God.”

  “Go ahead,” he murmured. “You can tell me.”

  She closed her eyes tight, as though doing so would shut out the images, but they only grew more vivid. “She . . . came. He was raping her, and she . . . she came.”

  Eidolon hooked a finger under her chin. “Look at me. Look at me.” Reluctantly, she did. His expression was one of savage determination. “That’s why you can’t have an orgasm with a man, isn’t it?”

  She tried to wrench out of his grasp, but he framed her face with both hands. “She liked it,” Tayla said, her voice rough and raspy and on the verge of breaking. “She was being tortured, raped, and she . . . she got off.”

  “Listen to me, Tay. The Soulshredder was messing with you. And her. They have the ability to force someone to feel pleasure in the midst of pain. It’s another way to torture them, to humiliate them. And look how it worked. Look how he’s been tormenting you for years with this memory.” His thumb brushed her cheekbone in long, soothing strokes. “Has that scene been playing out in your head every time you have sex?”

  A sobbing sound escaped her as she swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Yes. Sometimes, even when it’s just me, all I can think about—”

  “Stop. Don’t give him that power anymore.” His thumb dropped to her trembling lips, where he traced them, his touch light and gentle. “Has he returned to torment you since then?”

  “No, but I wish he would,” she said fiercely. “I’d tear him apart.”

  “You’re so strong,” he whispered. “So brave. Your fight against demons has been as internal as it has been external. You can win this battle.” He kissed away her tears. “Let me help you.”

  “You want to heal me, doctor?” she asked softly.

  Possessive eyes focused on her. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

  “Me, either,” she said, and Lord help her, it was true. The events of so long ago had stuck with her for so many years, had ruined her life, had ruined her ability to have a normal relationship with a man. It was time to let it go. Or, at least, try to let it go.

  Her mouth found his in an urgent, desperate kiss. He was still inside her, hard and thick, and she ground against him, already losing herself to the passion he coaxed out of her with sinful ease.

  A rumble of approval issued from deep in his chest, and he began a slow, sensual rhythm of thrusts. Always before, sex between them had been little more than a violent sprint to the finish, but this . . . this was already shaping up to be a marathon. He took her face in his hands and kissed her, deeply, tenderly. His tongue worked hers, sucking and stroking. Between her legs, tension mounted as he changed the tempo and depth of his thrusts, going from shallow and rapid to deep and slow.

  “You’re beautiful, lirsha,” he murmured against her mouth. “Perfect.”

  His words were a caress to the soul, and she felt herself opening up like a night-blooming flower. She no longer cared who or what she was, what he was, or what existed beyond the bedroom door.

  She dragged her hands up from his hips to his waist, taking in the taut layers of muscle, the smoothness of his skin. She didn’t stop there, let her palms map his back until she reached his broad shoulders. He was a thing of beauty, a creature built to please a woman, from his looks to his scent to his skill in bed, and with every thrust, he took her higher.

  “Say my name,” he purred, his voice vibrating through her in an erotic wave.

  “Hellboy—”

  “No.” He pushed up on his elbows. His eyes glittered, molten gold. He kept pumping though, and the slick friction had her panting, which she hadn’t realized until she tried to speak. “When you get close, look at me. Think only of me, and say my name. I want to hear you say it when you come.”

  His admission sent a surge of passion roaring through her, as though her heart were connected to her sex by a white-hot wire.

  “Yes,” she whispered, even though she doubted she’d come—no, she would. The past had no place in this bed.

  He groaned and started to move faster. Sensation doubled, her pleasure climbing higher as the crown of his cock slid back and forth across a place inside she hadn’t known existed. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the feel of masculine weight on her body, something she’d never enjoyed. But now it felt so right, so good, and oh, God, right there.

  Her orgasm hovered close, hot. He dropped his forehead to hers, and her eyes flew open.

  “Come for me, my lirsha, my lover,” he murmured, his gaze holding hers so she couldn’t look away, couldn’t see anything but the promise of ecstasy that rose up as though answering his command. “Come for me now.”

  Quivering with the need to explode, she clung tighter, digging her short nails into his shoulders, scoring his skin. He hissed and arched, and if not for his throaty, “Gods, yes,” she’d have thought she hurt him.

  She burned for him, smoked and sizzled. He was flame and she was fuel and when he did something sinful with his finger between them, she finally ignited. She came, bellowing out his name. He followed, his body going bowstring taut, his head falling back, his hips jackhammering into her. His warm, spurting seed splashed deep inside, triggering another powerful climax that forced her to unwrap her legs from his waist in order to brace herself on the bed as her hips came off it.

  As though the air had been let out of him, he sagged on top of her. He was heavy, crushingly heavy, but she didn’t care. She’d just had not one, but two orgasms when she’d never been able to come with a man.

  Gratitude and something even stronger, an emotion she didn’t want to name, tripped through her as she stroked his muscular back, petting him, telling him with her hands what she didn’t have the breath to say.

  Abruptly, he rolled off her, pulling her with him so she lay on her side, facing him. Male triumph lit his expression, bringing out the gold flecks in his dark eyes.

  “That was—”

  “Shh.” He pressed a finger to her lips and then drew it down her chin, her throat, her breasts . . . all the way to her core. “You’re not through.”

  “But—”

  He made a harsh noise, shutting her up as he dipped two fingers inside her. “Remember what my seed does?” Before she could respond, he spread his moisture through her slit, coating her bud, which still tingled. She groaned, arching into his touch, but he withdrew. One big hand clenched her thigh. Eidolon was looking at her, lids lowered, gaze fierce. Slowly, he squeezed her legs together and pulled her close, the friction threatening to set her off again. He knew,
was massaging her thigh to create tiny waves in her muscles.

  “No,” she said, grasping his wrist. “Not alone.” The vulnerability of it all, coming apart while he watched, totally uninvolved, God.

  “You’re going to come again. Don’t fight it.”

  But she was fighting it. She felt so stupid, so exposed, and, as he kept tenderly caressing her, so freaking inflamed.

  He leaned forward so their chests touched, so his lips brushed hers. “Trust it. Trust me.”

  “No,” she moaned, but her body trusted him, and it took his words and ran with them. Pleasure spread in a tidal wave from her sex to her scalp. She thrashed, writhed, bit her tongue to keep from screaming.

  “Ride it out,” he murmured.

  When she came down from the high, she didn’t have a chance to feel embarrassment, and honestly, she didn’t know if she would. The way he took her in, the admiration in his gaze, wow. Suddenly, she understood feminine power.

  “You’re lovely when you come. I could watch your pleasure all day long.”

  “Not one for TV, huh?”

  His laughter rang out, deep and hearty. “You are much more fascinating than anything I could watch on TV.”

  So was he, as much as she hated to admit it. “Eidolon?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Thank you.”

  He pushed up on his elbows. “No, thank you.”

  “For what?”

  He smiled, the one that made her weak in the knees. “For reminding me why I need to fight the s’genesis.”

  “So you can heal women with sexual hangups?”

  “No,” he said, dipping his head to kiss her, “so I can be with a female because I want to, not because I need to.” His voice dropped lower, became a hypnotizing purr. “Let me heal the rest of you. Let me integrate your demon half.”

  “Yes . . . no, wait.” She struggled to sit up, but with one hand on her breastbone, he kept her down and still.

  “I don’t want you to die.”

  “That’s what it could really come down to, isn’t it?” God, she was insane for even considering it. “If I agree to this, I need you to promise me something.” She couldn’t believe she was asking a demon for a promise. A week ago she’d have killed anyone who said she’d ever do such a thing. “If I turn out to be something really horrible . . . you’ll kill me.”

  Eidolon’s dark brows shot up. Before he could say anything, she pressed one finger to his lips. “Please. I can’t say yes unless I know I won’t be a danger to anyone. Can you promise me that?”

  After a moment, he bowed his head so his forehead rested on hers. “I promise. I’ll give Shade a call in the morning. We’ll do it then.” He palmed her hip and pushed his thick thigh between her legs, making her sigh with contentment. “Tonight, we have other things to do.”

  Nineteen

  The hazy morning light streaming through the window seared Eidolon’s eyes. He didn’t think about the reason he was so sensitive. He didn’t care. All that mattered was getting to the blinds and closing them.

  His feet hit the floor, but his legs didn’t work. Rubbery muscles couldn’t support his weight, and he crumpled next to the bed. Pain covered him like a blanket of thorns. Everything hurt. His eyes. His face. His entire body throbbed.

  Had Tayla done something to him?

  Tayla.

  A surge of lust shot through him like a burning arrow. He lifted his head, caught the savory scent of the sex they’d had for hours last night. Yeah, she’d been cured. She’d come over and over, in every position, in every room.

  Forgetting the blinds, he staggered to his feet, swaying until he caught himself on the side of the bed. Tayla lay tangled in the sheets, her hair fanning out over the pillow, her breasts exposed to the air and his gaze. Lower, the sheet had fallen away, allowing a glimpse of her thighs and the sweet place nestled between.

  He wanted her. Needed her.

  Growling low in his throat, he lowered himself onto the bed and opened his mouth over her hip.

  “Mmm, Hellboy,” she murmured, smiling, her eyes still closed.

  She shifted and stretched. Opened her eyes. And gasped.

  “Shit!” She scooted toward the headboard, but he grabbed her foot and tried to drag her back down. A kick aimed at his chin nearly connected. “What is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with me. What’s wrong with you?”

  She jerked free of his grip and rolled off the bed, coming gracefully to her feet.

  Naked.

  The delicious, potent aroma of fear came off her hot body in waves. He had to have her. Now.

  “Stay away from me.”

  Not going to happen.

  Take her.

  His nostrils flared as he separated the scents coming from her. Fear, confusion . . . ovulation.

  She’s ready.

  Mingled with her smells, masking the scent of human, was the one of demon. His body answered.

  Power rippled beneath his skin, threatening to tear him apart. His brain fogged. Pain crackled through him. The sound of ripping flesh hit him at the same time as the stabbing sensations in his back.

  When his vision cleared, he looked down at his hands. No, not hands. Paws. Red, scaly paws tipped with serrated talons.

  Impregnate her.

  “I’m going to have you now.”

  Tayla’s scream shot straight to his groin. The sound of terror was a rush, an aphrodisiac for both the mind and cock. Now he needed to taste her, to rip into her flesh with his teeth—

  He shook his head. These thoughts weren’t his.

  Impregnate her.

  He lunged. Landed on her, held her shoulders with the claws on the tips of his wings, while his hands grasped her hips to bring her closer to his barbed penis. She brought her knee up, nailed him between the legs so hard he roared. Rolling, she caught him behind the knees with her foot, and he went down.

  He snagged her calf, but she wriggled out of his grasp and darted to her weapons bag.

  “Esraladoth en sludslo.” The words came out of his mouth, but he had no idea what he’d said.

  She whirled, a boleadora in her fist. “If that means kick my ass, then fucker, you’re in luck.” She hurled it at him. He felt it wrap around his throat, and the world went black.

  Tayla watched the Soulshredder go down, her heart beating so hard her ribs hurt. Terror like she hadn’t felt since the day her mom died threatened to turn her into a useless blob of jelly, and she had to fight like hell to stay on her feet. The thing twitched and went still.

  The events of the last few moments played back in her head like a horror movie, but no matter how much she paused the video, she couldn’t find an explanation for what had just happened. Where was Eidolon? One moment he’d been kissing her hip; the next he’d been sprouting membrane-thin, veined wings from his back. Had the Soulshredder killed him and taken his form? If the Soulshredder had taken someone else from her, she swore she’d make what Jagger and Lori did to Yuri appear tame.

  Hand shaking, she drew a dagger from her weapons bag and nearly dropped it. Twice. If this was the best she could do, beheading the thing would be messy. Not that she cared. Oh, no. She was going to work the beast over, make it suffer until she discovered what it had done to Eidolon.

  She swung around.

  It was gone. In its place, Eidolon was there, the boleadora around his neck.

  Oh, shit.

  Still clutching the knife, she pulled a set of manacles from the bag and hurried to him. In the gray, cloud-choked light filtering through the window, he looked the same, except for the huge, swirling tattoo on the right side of his face.

  And when she’d first seen him in the bed, his eyes had been red.

  Cautiously, she shackled his ankles and wrists, and removed the weighted rope from around his throat.

  Sitting on her heels, she stared at him, wondering what to do now. Besides get dressed, anyway. She couldn’t leave him here, tied up, indefinitely, but neithe
r could she turn him loose and risk his spontaneously shifting into something horrible again. Of course, that was assuming the creature on the floor was him at all.

  Maybe one of his brothers could help.

  Quickly, she threw on some jeans and a plain black T-shirt from the bag of clothes she’d brought with her, and then she hunted down his cell phone and dialed Shade. When he didn’t answer, she found the hospital’s number in the phone’s directory. A female answered and identified herself as the nurse in charge at Underworld General.

  “I need to speak to Shade.”

  “He is unavailable.”

  “Then get Wraith. It’s an emergency.”

  “Do you require medical assistance?”

  “I require Shade.”

  “Ma’am,” came the irritated voice that sounded as if it was being sifted through fangs, “Shade is busy—”

  “You can get him on the line, so do it. Now.” Actually, she had no idea if they could get him, but she was done being nice.

  There was a pause, a click, several rings, and then a grumpy, deep voice.

  “Shade.”

  “Yeah, look. It’s Tayla. Eidolon . . . he’s in trouble.”

  “Again? This wasn’t Wraith’s doing. He’s been level. So what the fuck did you do to E?” A vicious snarly sound vibrated through the phone. “If you hurt him—”

  “I didn’t, asshole. Something’s wrong. He went crazy. He’s got this big tattoo on his face, and his eyes were red—”

  “Ah, shit.” Curses flew over the airwaves, and she hoped the underworld equivalent of some FCC wasn’t listening in. “Where are you?”

  “His apartment.”

  “Stay there.”

  “Well, duh. Where else would I—”

  The line went dead. Demons were so rude.

  She didn’t want to go back to the bedroom. What if Eidolon had morphed into a Soulshredder again? What if he hadn’t, but was awake and wondering why she’d beaten and bound him? What if he’d known exactly what he was doing when he turned into the thing that terrified her most in the entire world?