Текст книги "The darkest seduction"

Автор книги: Gena Showalter

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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

One by one, Lucien flashed the other warriors inside. Maddox first, then the others, then the women, then the two godly artifacts they had in their possession. Was the Budapest fortress under attack or something? Because damn.

Since no one touched the drawbridge, the gargoyles never came for them, so they were free to mill about—aka run like hell away from DEFCON Five.

And still, hours later, Ashlyn was in labor. The worst kind, at that. The babies wanted out, needed out, but they were stuck, and no one here was a stupid doctor, so no one knew what the hell to do to help her.

Maddox was barely holding himself together as he paced, shouting, punching walls. The others had stopped exploring and now congregated in the hall outside Ashlyn’s room, pacing alongside him. Except for Danika, the brave soul who’d taken over as labor coach. She was inside the belly of the beast. Wait. She was peeking out the door.

“Get over here,” the blonde screeched at William.

He was surprised he heard her. After Ashlyn’s last round of curses, his ears were still leaking blood and brain matter. He’d taken up residence against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest, and was all about warding away intruders into his personal space. “Who, me?” Again he found himself thumping his chest.

“Yes. You. Standing around wasn’t part of your job description when I told the guys Ashlyn would need you for this.”

Smart-ass. “News flash, little Dani. I know nothing about human births.” Still, he entered the room and approached the bed. Sweat soaked both women from head to toe, and both were pale, trembling. Scared, too, judging from the size of their pupils.

“But you do know about demon births, don’t you?”

Sometimes he forgot that Danika was the current All-Seeing Eye, that she could peer into heaven and hell, past and present. And he’d also forgotten Maddox was half human, half demon, and one quarter asshole, capable of spawning demonic offspring with special needs.

“Okay, yeah. I’ll take over.” And he knew what to do now, which was a relief. For him. Ashlyn was about to experience the worst pain of her life. Pain she would beg to escape—even at the hilt of a sword.

“He isn’t touching her,” Maddox growled, stomping over to get in William’s face. Bastard must have entered the room behind him.

William merely cocked a brow. “You want your woman to survive?”

“Of course.” A hiss.

“Then get the hell out of the room! You, too, Dani, and tell your man to stand guard and keep everyone else out, too. And I do mean everyone. No matter what they hear.” If they got a whiff of what he planned, they’d remove his hands with a rusty butter knife.

On the bed, Ashlyn was no longer writhing, no longer screaming. She was just a lump of flesh and covers. Getting weaker by the second…almost too late…

“Now!” William shouted. “I’m the only chance the three of them have of surviving.”

The petite Danika put her arm around the hulking Maddox and somehow managed to drag him into the hall. William strode over and shut the door, closing himself inside with Ashlyn. Then he moved the dresser in front of it, knowing he’d need a few minutes’ head start if anyone busted past Reyes.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. He was trembling as he unsheathed a dagger. “Sorry about this,” he said, and got to work.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

AFTER A SHORT STINT in the dungeon below the castle, Paris freed himself from the tunnel-visioned gargoyles’ newest restraints and found his friends. As glad as he was to see them, he was also upset by what had gone down while he was away. Ashlyn kidnapped by Galen. Legion trading herself to save the pregnant female. Kane, still missing. No contact. A dead-end trail even Amun now had trouble picking up.

He plopped on a bench someone had dragged into the hallway outside Ashlyn’s room. He was trying to keep himself distracted and calm. Zacharel had Sienna. Had probably shown her to the realm’s exit. She was probably on her way…wherever, her bond to this place at last broken, her will her own.

This was for the best.

The best sucked.

I want her,Sex said with a pout.

Me, too.

“This castle is lacking something,” Viola said as she eased next to him.

She was the first to speak to him in a conversational tone. His friends had been too preoccupied with Ashlyn to do more than bark orders for water, towels and a muzzle for…someone. William probably.

The goddess had given up her I’m-on-the-prowl dress and had changed into a glittery T-shirt and some kind of gray silk pants, the material so sheer he could see her underwear. Okay, so maybe she hadn’t given up the gotta-get-me-some attitude altogether. She’d pulled her pale, silvery hair into a high ponytail, the length swinging with her every movement.

“Hello? Are you listening to me? Of course you’re listening to me! I need permission to redecorate or I’m afraid I’ll have to leave.”

I want her!In just a few seconds, Sex was foaming at the mouth, bouncing around in Paris’s head, desperate for the goddess rather than Sienna. Far more desperate than the demon had ever been, in fact. I need her. I have to have her. Now, now, now.

What was thatabout? They’d had Sienna earlier this very day. Sex should be shiny new until tomorrow.

Want, I want! Want, want, want!

Paris frowned. When Kaia strode past him a heartbeat later, her hips swaying with her every step, his cock following her like a heat-seeking missile, he really frowned.

Usually when he thought about taking a woman he’d already been with, his erection deflated like a balloon. Or, if he didn’t remember being with a particular woman, he simply couldn’t get hard while he was around her. Surely this didn’t mean…surely he couldn’t…

Want her, need her! Want all of them!

Yeah. He could. He could take Viola (who he hadn’t already had) and Kaia (who he had), Paris realized, his cock twitching with need for both of them. Rather than exciting him, the knowledge filled him with dread.

How was this possible?

Your commitment to Sienna…I don’t know…but I can have them all and I want them all.

But…but…Paris had dreamed of this, of finding a woman and being with her multiple times. Any woman. All women. Sienna, as well as all the others. After his first encounter with Sienna, he’d thought she was his only hope for getting it. He hadn’t understood, but then, he hadn’t cared to understand. He’d accepted and he’d rolled. Yet now that he could have the same with someone else—anyone else, apparently—he still…wanted only Sienna, he realized.

He’d never been with a woman like her. Someone who knew about him, but accepted him anyway. Someone who gave more than she took, even when he wanted her to take more than she gave. Someone with grit and fire who wasn’t afraid to tell him off or apologize when she made a mistake. Someone who fought for what she believed in, did what it took to win, whateverit took. A hated quality once. Admired now.

Suddenly Strider was in his face, navy eyes glittering as he pressed the back of Paris’s head into the wall. “That baton in your pants better be for the goddess next to you and not for the redhead who just walked past you.”

Liked him better when he was preoccupied.Rather than engage the guy further and risk a fight Strider would have to win to stay upright, Paris nodded. “Right. The goddess.” Finally he understood Strider’s annoying possessive streak. How the warrior would kill another man for even looking at what was his. Paris would kill male or female, god or goddess, good or evil, for making a play for Sienna.

There’d been enough truth in his tone to mollify the warrior. “Okay.” As Strider straightened, he cracked the bones in his neck. “Okay, then. We’re good.”

Paris watched him walk away, and caught Gideon’s amused gaze. The keeper of Lies must have sensed the layer of deception. No one smelled a steaming pile faster than Gideon. No matter how small that pile was.

Guilty, Paris looked away. This shouldn’t be happening.

His demon cackled with glee, still wanting, still needing.

He felt dirty and disgusting and ashamed, was suddenly glad Sienna had chosen not to chase after him. If she saw him like this, he would lose it. He needed a shower. Needed to scrub his skin off, layer by layer, until the last drop of blood drained from him.

When the scent of chocolate and champagne began to waft from him, he cursed under his breath. I’m not sleeping with Kaia or Viola or any other woman here.He didn’t give a shit what his body or his demon demanded from him. He wasn’t allowing it. Wasn’t putting up with it. And you can’t make me, can’t lure them. Do you understand? You stop that right now, or I’ll cut off my cock and laugh as we wither away.

But…but…

No! No excuses, no pleading.He wasn’t sleeping with anyone today, tomorrow or the next day. Or even the next. No way. No one but Sienna,he thought with a determination that shocked him. And he didn’t care how weak it made him. His hands still tingled from touching all that soft, warm skin. He still had her sweet, tropical scent in his nose. He wasn’t giving that up, wasn’t welcoming someone else.

“Hello. I’m still here,” Viola said, pouting like a child. “Don’t you care that I might leave if you don’t give me what I want?”

He so didn’t have the patience to deal with her right now. “You can’t leave the castle, okay? This is the safest place for all of you, safer than the Budapest fortress. Galen and his Hunters can’t enter without serious injury, and if they try, we’ll all be alerted.”

Plus, he’d seen the crimson streaks over each of the windows and doors, and knew William had smeared his blood there. That meant the shadow monsters couldn’t come inside again.

“Who said anything about caring for our safety? We need portraits of me there, there and there.” As she spoke, she pointed.

“I’ll be sure and alert the decorator,” he said darkly.

“And there.”

Sex hadn’t yet given up the quest to get inside her, and Paris’s cock did that twitching thing. He gnashed his molars. The goddess was gorgeous, no question about that. Naturally feminine and sensual in a way most could never be, even with centuries of training. And once upon a time, Paris would have been all over her. Cancel out her personality, and she was just the type he used to go for. Lushly curved.

Now, having basked in a satisfaction so complete he would never be the same, settling for anything less held no appeal. Sienna’s lean body did it for him. Made him hunger. Blinded him to others. Her scent, her taste, both had been specifically designed to ramp him so high up no one else could ever hope to reach him.

“You’re beyond maddening,” Viola said.

Hewas maddening? Right. “You can decorate all you want. Happy?” If he didn’t change the subject, she’d keep that shit up all day and he’d end up introing her tongue to his blade. “So where’s your dog?”

“My little princess is resting in my new room. Travel is so hard on his delicate constitution.”

“Of course.” Because all vampire Tasmanian devils possessed delicate constitutions. And what was up with calling a male “princess?” Paris scrubbed a hand down his face, tired, hungry and torn up inside. Screw this. As soon as he knew Ashlyn and the babies were okay, he was taking off, finding Sienna and making sure she was okay. Thenhe’d let her go once and for all so that, when he slept with someone else, he wouldn’t be cheating, wouldn’t destroy her sense of trust.

But maybe…maybe he’d be with her one more time first. Sex with her was a revelation, not just because she’d strengthened him, healed him and made him come harder than he ever had in his life, but also because sex with her wasn’t about him. It was about them.Their needs. Their desires.

There was nothing dirty about it. Nothing tainted, one-sided or detached. They touched each other, kissed each other and pleasured each other because it felt good, because passion burned bright and inexorable.

“—listening to me?” Viola threw up her arms in exasperation.

He shook his head, almost told her the truth, and then stopped himself. He did, and her demon would give her fits. She’d probably follow him around like a lost little puppy. “Yeah, uh. I’m fascinated. Interesting stuff.”

Maddox paced back and forth, back and forth in front of him. Reyes tried to stop him with a pat on the shoulder, but the warrior shrugged him off and kept going. Lucien tried next, but Maddox shrugged him aside, too. A mistake. In punishment, Anya tripped him as he passed her.

“Why do I always try to befriend the hopeless causes?” Viola said. “Could you be any more selfish, tuning me out when I have such riveting things to say? Then again, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, you’re married because of me, and you haven’t ever even thanked me.”

“Mmm-hmm. Like I said, fascinating,” Paris said absently. And then her words penetrated. “What’s that now?” He twisted on the bench, pinning her in place with his narrowed stare. “Did you just say the word marriedin reference to me?”

“That’s right. And I never repeat myself. Except for those times that I do, in fact, repeat myself. But that’s usually only when I’m mentioning how silky my hair is, how sparkly my eyes are and how sexy my body is. Hey, do you think someone has a bag of peanuts? The spicy kind?”

I will not choke the life out of her.“Exactly who am I married to, and when did the supposed ceremony happen?”

“Oh, did I forget to tell you again? You’re married to your ghostly girlfriend, the one you tattooed yourself for. That’s how undead marriages are forged. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, and all that. Well, that’s how one-sided marriages are forged, anyway. She’s not married to you, so she can tap whoever else she wants without violating any ancient laws and having to endure horrible punishment.”

His jaw creaked open and closed as Viola continued to talk. And talk. “Shut up for a minute. How am I married to Sienna?”

Silence.

But then, Viola’s glare said enough.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I’m just in shock. I can’t be… What you’re saying isn’t… There’s just no way…”

“You are, it is and there is. That’s part of the reason you’re able to interact with her now. You bonded yourself to her.”

Bonded. His mind had short-circuited. He was bonded. He was married to Sienna. She was his. His woman. For real. His wife. Forever.

His.

Wife.

And apparently, despite the fact that his body could now breach any feminine core of his choosing, he couldn’t do so without violating a law he’d never heard of, thereby sentencing himself to some kind of punishment. A punishment he wasn’t sure who would mete out.

His demon’s reaction to the other women now made sense. Sex had been on the right track. With Paris’s commitment to Sienna, his infidelity would now feed the demon. Making love with Sienna would, too, though. He’d married her before finding her, and they’d since made love three times.

“You’re sure?” he croaked when there was a lag in Viola’s monologue. He wanted this, he realized. He wanted this to be true so badly he could taste his own anticipation. Could feel the hum in his blood, the song in his ears. He wanted to be bound to Sienna in the most irrevocable of ways.

Viola patted him on top of his head. “As if I’m ever wrong. But Paris, listen to me. We’ve gotto get serious for a minute.”

They weren’t serious already? “So you weren’t serious about the marriage thing?” He would kill her. Just press on her carotid and snuff her out.

“Of course I was serious.” She cupped his cheeks, her expression sad. Then she sniffed, and licked her lips. “Hmm, you smell good.” Closer…closer…she leaned in. Sniffed at his neck. “Really, reallygood.”

Stupid demon.

“Now tell me the truth,” she said, her voice lowering, going husky. “Do you think I’m the most beautiful woman you’ve ever met? And more important, do I look fat in this outfit?”

“I’m so going to give you to the fallen angel,” he muttered, putting a little distance between them. Her hold on him tightened, her eyes already glazed with want. “That’ll be his punishment for chasing me.”

A slow, confused blink. “The fallen who?”

She didn’t remember her own ardent suitor. Nice.

“What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel this way?” she asked, just before a low moan left her. “I don’t find you attractive, don’t want to rock your world, and yet, I’m ready to climb on board.”

A scream ripped through the entire enclosure, saving Paris from having to form a response. Everyone in the hall stilled, not even daring to breathe.

“Ashlyn.” Maddox rushed toward the bedroom door, but Reyes tackled him.

The keeper of Violence fought for all he was worth, and several other warriors had to dive into the pile to shut him down. Paris was about to join the fray when he caught sight of familiar black wings at the entrance of the hallway.

His gaze shot up, and he met gorgeous hazels that were wider than usual. Sienna’s face was flushed, her eyes red and puffed as if she’d been crying, and her mouth swollen. He was running at her a second later, leaping over the pile of his friends, tripping, getting up, and running some more.

SIENNA WASN’T MAD. What she felt was so beyond mad no single word could describe it. A mix of rage, guilt, sorrow and more rage, maybe. And then some more rage with a splash of heartbreak. And a lot more rage. Her sister was dead, and the queen of the Titans had killed her. Just slit her throat and left her on the floor as if she were garbage.

When Cronus had dropped Sienna here, all she’d wanted was to find Paris and throw herself in his arms. Not to cry, she doubted she’d ever cry again, but to forget, if only for a little while. Instead, she discovered some strange beauty had beaten her to the finish line.

A beauty his friends probably liked. The group had apparently taken over Sienna’scastle, and they were likely to tackle Sienna as they’d just tackled each other if she took a single step in Paris’s direction.

The big, hulking giants were heavily armed, an army of menace, each soldier possessing a feral red gaze that spoke volumes. The main chorus being I’ll smile when I kill you,but they never went for kill strikes. They were simply trying to subdue the one on the bottom of the pile.

What seemed an eternity ago, she had studied these men for nefarious purposes. Seeing them live and in person should have freaked her out. And maybe it would have, if Wrath hadn’t just whipped up a party in her brain, tossing out image after image, all of them involving the handsy blonde.

With her smile, her laugh, her everything,she enticed men to fall in love with her. Their adulation was her nourishment. And then, when she had them at her feet, she left them, just moved on to the next one, and forgot all about them.

That’s what she would do to Paris. And why wouldn’t he fall for her? Sienna wondered. She was the most beautiful woman Sienna had ever seen. Hell, even shewas tempted.

Paris appeared in front of her, gathering her in his arms, rubbing his cheek against hers. He smelled of desire she recognized, such heady desire. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“You…you…”

“What’s wrong, baby? What happened?”

Glaring up at him, she tugged from his hold. “I’m gone a few hours—” and in that time had decided to be with Galen to save Paris’s life, she thought but didn’t add “—and already you’ve moved on.” She gave a bitter laugh. Even knowing this would happen couldn’t have prepared her for the flood of pain actually seeing it wrought. “You tried to warn me, didn’t you, and I told you I understood.” Well, I don’t!

“Moved on? With Viola?” He grimaced. “Hell, no. We were just talking.”

“Yeah, I know. Your body language said plenty.” Before, she’d only seen his hard-on—and it had been pointed at the blonde. Now she felt it, hard and long and thick, and sweet heaven, she still wanted it. Still wanted him.

“Are you jealous?”

“Of course not!”

“You are. You’re jealous.” He laughed, awe and delight bubbling in the undertones. “Can I just tell you how much that turns me on?”

“Everything turns you on,” she snarled, struggling to dampen her anger. He was just so damned pleased with himself. And her! “And I’m not jealous.”

“You are, and I love it. Anyway, something’s going on with my demon, that’s all. I swear to you, I haven’t been with the goddess and I won’t be. Ever.”

“She’s a goddess?”

“Who holds no appeal for me.”

He could be lying. He could be telling the truth. Actually, he was telling the truth, she decided in an instant, not needing Wrath’s help. Paris wasn’t the type to lie. Consequences weren’t something he feared.

“It doesn’t matter.” Her shoulders sagged with defeat. “I shouldn’t have come back.”

“Doesn’t matter? Are you giving up on me? On us?” He gripped her forearms and shook her. “I know we said we’d part when you could leave the realm, but I want to revisit that decision. It’s no longer an option for me. And I know you’re going to have a difficult time believing this, but no matter how my body reacts to others, no matter what my demon wants, you are it for me. Do you understand?” Another shake, harder than before.

“Uh, Paris,” Strider called. “Who you talking to, buddy?”

He twisted, and she peeked around him. The warriors had stopped fighting each other, and everyone but the scarred one and the blonde goddess were eyeing Paris as if he’d just flipped his ever-loving lid.

“They can’t see me,” she said.

He was saved from having to reply to her or his friends when the door in the center of the hall swung open and the dark-haired William stepped into the hall. He was pale, clearly shaken to his soul and bathed in blood.

She gasped. “What happened to him?”

William clapped to gain everyone’s attention. “All right, listen up. I’ve got good news and bad news. Because I’m such a positive person, we’ll start with the good. Ashlyn survived the birthing, and so did her personal horde.”

The hallway echoed with breathy sighs of relief…none louder than Maddox’s own.

“So what’s the bad?” someone demanded.

After a dramatic pause, the warrior said, “I’m out of conditioner. I need someone to flash out of here and get me some. Hint, I’m looking at you, Lucien. And, yeah, you’re welcome for my amazing contrib to your happy family. Little terrors clawed me up but good.”

“William!” someone else snapped. “Stay on track, and keep the unnecessary details to a minimum. We’re dying here.”

“That’s gratitude for you. So anyway, come on, come in, and meet your nephew and niece, Murder and Mayhem. Or, if you want to call them by their nicknames, and I’m sure you will the moment they get their mitts on you, Pistol and Shank.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

AS HAPPY AS PARIS WAS with the births, as much as he wanted to meet the babies, he had to take care of his woman first. He tossed Sienna over his shoulder with the finesse of a bulldozer, shouted, “No one enter my bedroom, no matter what you hear,” and stalked to the room he’d used before, passing through the hall of statues. Each of his friends cast him weird looks before he rounded the corner. Mainly because they were all laid out flat and hadn’t recovered from Maddox kicking and shoving them out of his way, so they were dazed, but also because they assumed Paris had just spent a good five minutes talking to himself.

I want her still,Sex said with no small measure of surprise.

Don’t worry. We’ll get her.

Sienna had been stunned silent and remained still at first, but with his every step she worked herself into more of a lather. Soon she was slapping at his back, jerking at his hair and attempting to knee him in the face and balls. Up the stairs he went, down another hall, barely able to prevent his emasculation. He shouldered his way inside the chamber and slammed the door with a backward kick.

He’d been torpedoing his way into a black rage, but seeing Sienna had calmed him. Just like that. Zacharel could blow him, because clearly he would never hurt this woman.

She’d come back for him. That deserved a reward.

He set her on her feet, and she immediately launched herself into full-blown attack. To be honest, he was glad as hell. Anything was better than that moment of defeat. Her little fists pummeled at him, and he accepted the abuse. Until he realized she’d made an improper fist and was actually hurting herself. He wound an arm around her waist, spun her and slammed her into the hard line of his body to still her.

“Let me go!”

“In a minute.” As she struggled, he pulled her thumb out from beneath her fingers and rearranged her fist. “Hit like this.” Done, he released her.

She swung back around to beat at him some more, and this time the blows stung. “You aren’t walking out of this room until I’ve killed you!”

That’d be a nice little trick, and maybe something to try later. “I’ll let you do anything you want to me, but I’d like an explanation first. What’s this about?”

“Argh!” She leapt away from him, paced like a caged lion. Energy radiated from her, practically lifting her hair off her head. “It’s about the fact that all men suck! And in case you didn’t realize, you’re included in their numbers.”

“I would hope so. Otherwise our romance would be missing something.”

Her eyes glittered with jade fire, the gold lost. “Was that a crack about your penis? Because if so, you can do better.” She stalked to the dresser and shoved with all her might, knocking the thing to the ground. Wood splintered. The granite surface shattered. The drawers spilled from their holders. Scowling, panting, she grabbed one and lobbed it at him.

He ducked, and the empty container smacked into the door. Both fractured. Another quickly followed, and he barely managed to dodge it.

“Why are your friends here? Aren’t you afraid I’ll spy on them and learn their secrets?”

“No.” And he wasn’t. Not anymore. He’d judged her harshly before, but he wasn’t going to make that mistake again. “Just like you aren’t afraid I’ll sleep with anyone else while we’re together.”

Another drawer. “That’s what you told Susan!”

“I know, and I’ve lived with the guilt ever since. I will neverdo that to you. Tell me you know that.”

“Yes, I know that, but we weren’t together a few minutes ago. Which means you went after the first tail to twitch in your direction the second we were separated. But I’m not your girlfriend, and I will never be your girlfriend, so I can’t complain, can I?”

“No,” he said quietly. “You won’t ever be my girlfriend.” Because you’re already my wife.Those words. He’d never thought to use them in regard to himself. But now that he had, yeah, his possessive instincts flared, insisting on their due. Didn’t help that Sienna was the sexiest female he’d ever seen. A live wire, sizzling, crackling, the essence of passion. Yeah, he was hard as a steel pipe.

Another drawer was flung his way. Only four more were left. He’d let her have them, and then he was going in.

“I’m so sick of this world, the lying and the tricking and the killing.” One. “That woman is going to pay. Oh, she’s going to pay so bad.” Two. “I’m going to join in and do a little killing of my own. Not through Wrath, but with my own hands.” Three. “That bastard Cronus thinks he can manipulate me, but he can’t. I’m done with all of you!” Four. “And I’m not going to save you, so there! You can go to—”

Paris barreled forward, snagging her around the waist and tossing her on the bed. As she bounced on the mattress, her wings shot out to slow her momentum. He dove for her before she could catch herself and hover in the air, and for once he didn’t try to be careful. He pinned her, trapping her legs beneath the muscled weight of his own and her arms over her head. She tried to buck him off, but all she succeeded in doing was rubbing his hard-on against her clit.

A cry of need parted those pretty lips.

More!

“You wet for me, baby?” He didn’t ask for permission, but transferred the shackling of her wrists to one hand and shoved up her shirt and bra with the other, baring her breasts. Her nipples were red and swollen, begging for him.

“No,” she said, and he knew she lied. “Not wet, not wet, soooo not wet.” Yeah, she knew it, too.

He dipped down and sucked. She released another of those beautiful cries, her hips undulating against him. He kept sucking and she kept bucking against him, until he couldn’t stand the pressure anymore and shoved his hand down her pants, past those panties and straight into the heat of her. She practically bowed off the mattress.

Yes, please, yes.

One finger, two, three. He thrust them home, as deep as he could get them.

“Paris… I… Oh, yes, yes!”

“There’s my girl.” She drenched his hand, just the way he liked, so hot and silky, fitting him so damn perfectly, even this way. “When you used your mouth on me, I wanted to have my face buried between your legs. I still do. And next time, I will. I’m going to have all this honey down my throat.”

“Paris…I’m going to… I’m so close already.” Her eyes were squeezed shut, those long lashes fused together. “Let go of my hands. I want to touch you, too. Needto touch you.”

“You think those little taps you gave me weren’t foreplay? And hell, baby, I was hard for you long before that.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. You still mad at me?”

“Yes, but don’t stop.”

“Got to. Gotta give you something more.” He removed his fingers just before she climaxed, and she screeched in frustration. “Gotta give you something better.”

Her inhalations rasped in, her exhalations stormed out, both quick and heavy. Need truly was riding her hard—but not as hard as he was going to. He was drunkwith his passion for her, his head swimming with it, his veins burning with it.

He jerked her zipper down, but didn’t bother with shoving her pants away. Couldn’t. He was too busy undoing his own. He didn’t shove those down, either, and once his cock was free, he poised himself at her entrance. She couldn’t open her legs very wide, the material wouldn’t let her, so when he pushed in, he had to bear down some of his weight. But when he was in, he was really in,her inner walls locked around him, tighter than any fist he’d ever made.

She screamed at the contact, and he loved the sound.

Every thrust was a slow grind against her, and yeah, his body rubbed her clit with every downward glide. No longer did her words make any sense. She was panting and incoherent and lost to an all-consuming fervor. Sex, too. Hell, Paris, too. His balls were drawing up tighter and tighter, yet still sliding against the tops of her thighs.