The Darkest Night lotu-2 Read online

  He didn't comply. Shivering, she reached for his waistband to push at his pants.

  He shook his head, stilling her. "When they come off, I'll be inside you." His voice was low, gravelly.

  "Good. I want you inside me."

  "Not done tasting." He eased off her a little and trailed a finger down the planes of her stomach.

  Oh God. "Yes, taste more. I want… I need…" More of everything. If he wouldn't let her remove the pants, she'd work around them. She worked her hand underneath, gripped him.

  He hissed in a breath. His eyes closed briefly. "Ashlyn."

  He was so big, she couldn't close her fingers. Thick, full, amazing. As she skimmed her hand up and down, up and down like she'd seen him do in the shower—oh, so good, never stop—he finally, finally worked a finger inside of her. She gasped at the heady sensation.

  He stilled. "Good?"

  "Good," she said on a moan.

  Propelling back into motion, he pumped his finger in and out. Slowly at first… faster… faster… she arched into the inward glide, loving the stretch, trying to tighten her muscles and hold him deep.

  "More?"

  "More," she breathed.

  A second finger thrust inside, stretching her farther. Her knees squeezed his thighs, surrendering to his every whim. Her gaze met his. Sweat beaded on his face and tension bracketed his mouth.

  "Hot," he said. "Wet."

  "Big," she said, squeezing him. "Hard."

  "All yours."

  "Mine," she agreed. I want him forever. Now and always. "More."

  He slammed a third finger inside her and there was a slight burn. She loved it, loved the miracle of being filled by him. "Mine," he said. His cock surged in her hand. "Ready, beauty?"

  "Yes. Oh, yes. So ready." More than ready. Never had she wanted anything so intensely. It was something she gladly would have given her life to experience. "Yes. Please."

  She kneaded his back, scratched at his skin as he shoved his pants to his ankles and kicked them off. No underwear. He was finally, totally, blessedly nude.

  "Look at me."

  She did, their gazes as tangled as their bodies.

  The hard tip of his penis pressed between her legs, but didn't fully enter. She arched her hips, urging him on. He didn't move any deeper. Despite his claim that he'd be inside her the moment his clothes were shed, he resisted.

  "Need a moment… to get spirit…under control," he bit out. "Don't want to leave. Don't want to walk away. But the urges…"

  "Mmm, urges. Yes."

  "No. Dark. Violent. Hard."

  "I'm not scared." No, she was excited, willing to take him and the spirit. It was a part of him, so she'd love it, too.

  "Should be scared." The sweat that had beaded on his temples dripped onto her cheek, the frosty air doing nothing to cool him down. "Haven't done it this way in thousands of years. Haven't looked at a woman while…"

  He didn't finish, but she could guess what he'd been unable to say. He hadn't looked at a woman while making love to her. Ashlyn met his gaze again, all the love she felt for him shining brightly. She didn't try to hide it, couldn't. "I don't want to wait anymore."

  "Must."

  She drew up her knees, trying to urge him forward, but he braced a palm on the headboard, refusing to budge. Grrr! She didn't want him to fear hurting her. "Pound. Bite."

  "No. Not with you."

  "Pound me. Bite me. I won't break."

  "I won't hurt you." He shook his head, refusing to look at her. "Won't hurt you. Promised."

  Make him lose control. Prove to him that he can't hurt you, no matter what he does. Yes, she thought, cupping his jaw and forcing him to peer down at her. If he held back this time, if he continued to fear the things he wanted to do to her, he'd eventually stop touching her altogether. He'd leave her.

  "Give me all you've got. Just do it now," she told him on a moan, once more trying to slide herself down on his thick length. "I'm so wet, I'm already in pain."

  His shallow pants filled her ears. "Just a few more minutes. I'm just going to hold you, then I have to leave."

  No, not okay.

  She traced her fingertips down his back, loving the feel of velvet poured over electrified steel. His tattoo had looked so real, she'd expected it to be raised, but it wasn't. It was smooth and as warm as the rest of him.

  "If you won't take me…" She tried to appear innocent as she massaged his butt. The muscles contracted on contact. "I'll take you."

  Without another warning, she tightened her grip and jerked at the same moment as she arched forward.

  Maddox's arm bent and he slammed inside her. A cry spilled from her lips, pained and blissful all at once.

  Maddox's control shattered.

  He roared, loud and long, pulling back and slamming forward over and over again. She gasped, feeling him so deeply she'd never again be able to think of herself as simply Ashlyn. She was now Maddox's woman.

  He bit the cord of her neck and she trembled. Back he continued to slide, forward he continued to slam. The entire bed shook, metal legs screeching against the floor. He gripped one of her knees, anchoring it on the curve of his arm, spreading her legs farther apart and giving him deeper penetration.

  "I'm sorry," he chanted. "I'm sorry."

  "Don't be. Yes, yes!" she cried.

  His tempo increased and his thrusts became harder. "Ashlyn," he panted. "Ashlyn."

  She was on fire, burning from the inside out. Her pulse points hammered in tune with his strokes. Back and forth her head thrashed as she became mindless to anything except the pleasure.

  He pinched her nipples and that made her hotter.

  He scraped his teeth over her throat and that made her wetter.

  He squeezed her thighs tightly and that made her needier. "Sorry," he said again. "So sorry. Wanted to be gentle."

  "Love it hard. Want harder." Gentle could come later, after her need had been sated. After he realized she could—and quite happily—take anything he had to give. "Close. So close." Almost there. Just needed…

  He tangled his hand in her hair and jerked her face to his, thrusting his tongue inside her mouth. His decadent taste flooded her, a drug, a shot of heroin. In that instant, she erupted. Burst. Flames of ecstasy consumed her.

  Her entire body shuddered and wept. A scream was ripped from her as white light and shadows flashed through her mind. She was dying slowly, dying quickly. Just… dying. Flying to heaven.

  "Ashlyn," Maddox shouted as he, too, erupted. Hot seed spurted inside her, pulsing deep… so deep… His muscles tensed. "Mine." He bit down on her neck again, as if he couldn't help himself.

  This time, he drew blood.

  It should have hurt, did hurt—so good, so good—but it made her come again. She trembled and arched against him, crying out with the heady bliss of it. Never would she have thought pleasure and pain could mix so potently. Never would she have thought one could trigger the other. But they did. And she was glad.

  He collapsed on top of her, again panting, "Sorry. So sorry. Didn't mean—"

  "No sorries. I'm glad." Satisfaction hummed through her as she accepted his weight. Satisfaction and true happiness. "Always want it this way."

  He rolled to his back, taking her with him. Boneless, she lay on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her, smoothing his hands down her back. "You would have liked gentle better. Especially for your first time."

  Slowly she smiled. "I doubt it, but I'm willing to let you try and convince me."

  Amazement flickered in his eyes a split second before he had her straddling his waist. "That will be my pleasure."

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Never, in all his life, had Maddox been so sated. Not in all his thousands of years.

  Thrice he'd made love to Ashlyn and now she was sleeping next to him, tucked into his side, breath traipsing over his ribs. After hard and fast, then slow and tender, she'd claimed she needed a reminder of what hard and fast was like before
deciding which she liked better.

  He'd been shocked, awed and humbled by her words, for he'd shown her the worst, the beast, the part of himself that he despised, but she had not run screaming. Hadn't cried. No, she had asked for more.

  He grinned at the memory. A true, unrestrained grin, he thought, amazed. When the spirit had demanded Maddox mark her, he'd been helpless to do anything but obey. So he had bitten her and drawn blood. Everything virtuous inside of him had screamed in protest, ashamed. But she had liked it; she truly had not minded, had even bitten him in response. And now he felt free. He did not have to fear his reactions with her. He did not have to fear.

  She was everything he had never known he needed, everything he could never live without. She had… tamed him. She had charmed the spirit. He'd told her his plan to keep her, and he'd meant it. She belonged with him, now and always.

  Slowly he traced a fingertip over her spine. She murmured in her sleep and burrowed deeper against him. Her breast pressed against his underarm, spearing him with heat. What a treasure she was. He'd gone into the forest looking for a monster, but found salvation instead.

  With Ashlyn, Violence was not truly violent. Instead, the spirit was made into something beautiful. Dark, yes. Always dark. But sensually so. Not evil, but needy. Not destructive, but possessive. Two days ago, he would not have thought such a thing was possible.

  Ashlyn. Demon tamer. He chuckled softly, careful not to wake her. After their excess, she needed to conserve her energy. He had plans to ravish her lat—

  Below them, a door slammed. A man cursed. Maddox recognized the raspy baritone instantly. Reyes had returned.

  Maddox's mood instantly thundered from contentment to anger. They had unfinished business, he and Reyes. A warning was in need of delivery. Something to show the warrior that any attempt to hurt Ashlyn would come with consequences.

  Maddox rolled from the bed, pausing to make sure he had not disturbed his woman. Her eyes remained closed, lashes casting shadows over her rosy cheeks.

  Quietly he dressed. T-shirt, pants, boots. Daggers. She's ours. No one hurts her. The spirit wanted vengeance, as well, and was seething under his skin, in his blood, spreading flames, blistering… melting… but Maddox did not lose control.

  I am angry, yet I am dictating my own actions, he thought, baffled. I decide. It was strange. Wondrous and exhilarating. And he owed this newfound control to Ashlyn.

  With a backward glance at her sleeping form, he stalked from the room. The spirit's mood blackened with every step away from her, but still it never managed to regain command.

  Maddox found Reyes in the foyer, but the warrior was not alone. The rest of the Lords were also there, every one of them cut and bleeding and covered in black soot. There were also men Maddox did not recognize—

  No, surely not, he thought, blinking.

  "Sabin?"

  No one paid him any heed. Sabin—dear gods—was too busy peeling off his shirt and studying a deep gash in his side. Lucien had his arm wrapped around… Strider. Cameo sat on the floor with her knees drawn up to her chest. Her dark hair was singed at the ends and the left side of her face was burned. Gideon and Amun were propped against the wall, as if they couldn't stand on their own.

  Seeing the warriors after so many years was like a blow to the stomach. What were they doing here? Why had they come?

  Paris groaned, drawing his attention. The warrior's forearm was broken so badly the bone peeked through the skin. Aeron was… Maddox frowned. Aeron was cuffed to the banister and cursing loudly. Blood dripped from his forehead, a crimson river. "Kill. I must kill," he said, voice thick and layered with malevolence. "I need their blood. Hmm, blood."

  Just as the Titans had vowed, Wrath must have taken over. That meant the need to slay those four women now consumed him. Would he have to be chained from now until the Lords found a way to save them—or until they were dead?

  With the thought, hatred spilled through Maddox. Hatred for the Titans, for bringing his friend to this point. Hatred for the Greeks for their initial curse, the Hunters for their relentless pursuit and, most of all, his younger self for opening the box on that disastrous night.

  "What's going on?" Maddox demanded. That he did not simply attack proved just how much Ashlyn had changed him. "Did you set off one of our traps on the hill?"

  A few of the warriors glanced up at him, though most ignored him. "No," Sabin muttered. "Those we avoided."

  "Bomb," Reyes said, not bothering to look up. He was in the process of removing his boots—boots that were practically melted to his feet. He was smiling.

  "One of ours?" Maddox insisted, not trusting a word out of Sabin's mouth.

  "Hardly. I know better than to blow myself up." Reyes sighed, finally deigning to look at him. There was confusion in his eyes. "Why aren't you railing on me?"

  Quick as a snap, Maddox unsheathed a dagger and hurled it end over end toward the warrior. In a blink, he'd unsheathed the other one and hurled it at Lucien. The blades sailed over each man's left shoulder and lodged in the wall behind them. "Have no doubt, if you ever plan something like that again, I will kill you."

  Lucien's gaze was flat. He appeared calm, and yet Maddox sensed something bubbling under that serene surface. His features were strained, as if he were a block of ice that had been hammered at one too many times. Was he ready to crack? "You should be glad we failed to find her. I am. The Hunters played us like violins, drawing us to a specific location and greeting us with bombs."

  Bombs. A new war truly had begun, then. Maddox descended the rest of the steps, teeth grinding together. He stepped around a bucking Aeron and was punched in the thigh for his efforts. That was better than being stabbed, he supposed.

  "So why is Sabin here?" He did not face the man in question. "Did he bring the Hunters?"

  "Apparently, the Hunters were already here. Sabin followed them and now wants us to help him find dimOuniak." Reyes tossed his ruined boots aside. Raw, oozing blisters covered his bare feet.

  "Sorry to spring our old friends on you." Gripping his broken arm, Paris slammed it against the wall, popping the bone back into place. He winced, paled. "But it's amazing what decisions you'll make when your brains are splattered over a nightclub dance floor."

  Lucien flattened his palm on the wall and leaned over, grimacing. "By the time we gained our bearings, the Hunters were gone. They had not left a trail and we didn't know if they would be lying in wait at Sabin's hotel. Here, at least, we knew we'd all be safe, since Torin has us under surveillance."

  "They knew what they were doing, and had obviously been preparing for a long, long time," Reyes said. "What I want to know is why they didn't stick around to chop off our heads while we were incapacitated."

  "They're planning something else." Paris rolled his shoulder. "Have to be."

  Everyone turned to Sabin.

  He shrugged. "They're out for blood. Expect anything."

  Reyes nodded. "We should gear up and find them before they try anything else."

  Sabin cleaned his face with his T-shirt, saying, "I remember a time when you would rather have split with your friends than attack Hunters."

  "No," Lucien told him. "We split with friends who wanted to destroy the entire city and everyone in it. We split with friends who attacked one of our own."

  Eyes stark, Sabin spun away.

  Maddox gazed around the foyer, studying the weary group one by one. "Where is Torin?"

  A deadly stillness came over Lucien. "He hasn't returned from the cemetery?"

  Cemetery? Torin had ventured outside the fortress? What else had Maddox missed while he was dead? "I don't think so. I did not hear him come in, but I was… occupied."

  Frowning, Sabin withdrew a walkie-talkie. "Kane. Do you read?"

  Nothing.

  "Kane."

  Again, nothing. A little panicked now, Sabin repeated, "Kane. Answer me"

  Nothing.

  Everyone looked at everyone else.

  Luci
en ran a hand over his jaw, his features more frazzled than before. "We have to find Torin before someone else does. Gather bandages, Maddox, and meet us upstairs. I want to be out the door in ten minutes."

  A feminine gasp suddenly rang in his ears. Maddox whipped around, only to see Ashlyn standing at the top of the staircase. Those long locks he so loved spilled down her sides, and her eyes were wide, concerned. She wore one of his shirts and had those black sweatpants bagging over her legs.

  In seconds, he was beside her and dragging her behind him, blocking her from view. He didn't know if he could trust the newest additions to the "family." Not really. Not anymore. Too much time had passed for him to feel any kind of kinship.

  "I guess I don't have to ask who the human belongs to," Sabin said dryly.

  "What happened to them?" Ashlyn asked, horrified. She peeked around his shoulder. "They're so bloody. And who are the new guys?"

  "A bombing. The men are… like us."

  "Five minutes and a knife," Aeron shouted, jerking at his bonds. "That's all I need."

  Blanching, Ashlyn grabbed hold of Maddox's arm.

  Reyes stepped up to the now-cursing prisoner and punched him in the face. Once, twice, three times. He punched until Aeron slumped to the ground. Maddox thought he heard Aeron utter, "Thank you," but he could not be certain.

  As the warriors limped upstairs, Maddox kept Ashlyn behind him. When they were alone, he turned to her and trailed a fingertip over her jaw. "Go back to my room. Please," he added. "I'll be there as soon as possible."

  Determined, she peered up at him through the thick fan of her lashes. "I can help them, and so can the other women. Danika helped me when I was sick, remember? She's good in times of crisis. So am I."

  He gave a quick shake of his head. "I don't want you near them."

  "If I'm going to stay here, I have the right to get to know your friends."

  "Not all of those men are my friends. Those who are, you can get to know another day. Right now, you need rest."

  "No, I don't." She anchored tight fists on her hips. "I refuse to lounge in bed all day when I can be productive."