The Darkest Captive: A Lords of the Underworld Novella Page 9

  So incredibly hard.

  “I can do anything I want to you,” he taunted, “and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

  Those panting breaths quickened. “Galen,” she croaked, nearly breaking his heart. “I want… I need…” She arched her back, purposely rubbing against him.

  A broken moan left her parted lips, shocking the hell out of him. She wasn’t the tiniest bit afraid. Desire ruled her.

  Groaning, he circled his hips to grind his erection between her legs. The pleasure…the pain. I’m dying. No, I’m dying happy.

  “You can stop me,” he said. “Leila, stop me! Prove you can. Then you can do whatever you want to me. Whatever you need.”

  What happened next happened in a blink. Without broadcasting her intent, Leila slammed her forehead into his chin. Stars winked through his line of sight and blood filled his mouth. She worked one of her legs between their bodies, drawing her knee up, up. Then she kicked him in the face, rattling his brain against his skull. He stopped seeing stars, a black abyss threatening to swallow him whole.

  The next thing he knew, Leila had pinned him. He lay flat on his back, panting, his burst of pain fading. He peered up at her, pride overwhelming him. “You did it,” he said, and smiled. “You protected yourself.”

  Her gaze remained glued to his lips. Voice filled with smoke and gravel, she said, “I want…”

  “Tell me, Leila.” Please. “What do you want?”

  Now her gaze flipped up to his, revealing endless pools of heat and hope. “I want more.”

  Chapter Eight

  The moment Galen’s wing had first caressed Legion’s skin, pressure had begun building inside her. Who was she kidding? Pressure had been building since the moment he’d rescued her. No, before he’d rescued her. Since the moment they’d met.

  Today, pressure had roused heat. Heat had roused tingles, a racing heart, and a never-ending ache between her legs.

  Now, Galen flipped her over, pinning her down just as before. His wings blocked out the rest of the world. Any hint of her distanced and controlled self-defense teacher—gone. In his place, a ruthless seducer.

  “Are you sure you want this? Are you sure you want me?” With one hand, he held himself steady. With the other, he cupped her breast and teased her throbbing nipple with his thumb.

  “I am.” Desire chased away any lingering fear. This man… oh, this man. He was the epitome of carnality, lines of tension branching from his eyes and the erotic slash of his mouth. His pale hair was messy, his cerulean eyes bright. Sweat glistened on his skin.

  What made him most beautiful, however? He was as vulnerable to her as she was to him.

  With his words, his actions, he’d empowered her and set her ablaze. In hell, she’d been an object. To Galen, she was a treasure.

  I can forge a life with him. A good one. We can be happy.

  She cried out with want. Yes, yes. A good life. Happiness. Old desires reignited, the very reasons she’d risked everything to acquire this human body. She could have a family of her own. If she worked hard enough, she could be queen of her castle, so strong no one could ever make her do anything she didn’t want to do.

  Of course, Galen could lose interest in her at any time. Her heart tripped over her ribs. No Galen, no family. He could choose to be with another woman, leaving the queen without her king.

  Instant recognition—Jealousy at work.

  Focusing on the exquisite pleasure that seethed inside her, she reiterated her demand. “I want more. Now! Give it to me.”

  “Yes.” He swooped down, and pressed his lips against hers. Their tongues dueled, the sweetness of his taste unraveling any lingering reservations.

  Her puckered nipples grazed his chest when she inhaled. Since she was panting, she inhaled a lot. Every breath proved shallower than the last. A scorching current electrified her cells. Her limbs quivered. Inside her, the pressure and heat only escalated.

  She wound her arms around him, clinging to the only man who’d ever wanted her. The real her. The only man who’d ever known the real her. Who’d made her come alive with a simple touch.

  “Even better than before,” he rasped against her lips.

  Yes, yes. But then, she knew him as a person now, not as an enemy.

  He…it…this felt so good, no, great, no, incredible; she couldn’t think beyond the moment. He was hard as a rock. He smelled like paradise. And his hands—those big, callused hands. One tangled in her hair, the other moved to her waist. Both held her tightly, reverently, as if he’d never handled such a valuable prize. So different from—

  No! Do not let the past intrude on the present.

  “Leila.” His black magic voice pulled her under his spell. “Can’t get enough of you.”

  Her body cradled his. Bowing her back, she spread her trembling legs. He ground his erection against the epicenter of her world, sending more tingling heat careening through her. Heaven on earth.

  “You like this,” he said, and she wasn’t sure if he meant the words as a statement or a question. “You like me.”

  For a “selfish bastard”—Aeron’s favorite Galenism, not hers—Galen sure did give more than he took. Then her thoughts fragmented, her mind only processing one word at a time. Sublime. Glorious. Blissful. “Galen.” Somehow, his name perfectly encapsulated each of the descriptors.

  “Yes, Leila.” He nipped the line of her jaw, then ran the lobe of her ear between his teeth. “Always yes.”

  As she purred her approval, he returned his attention to her lips. Desperation tinged their next kiss. With more and more aggression, he rolled his tongue against hers. So good! The bliss…

  Gyrating against his length faster and faster, she threaded her fingers through his silken hair, scraped her nails along his back and over the downy-soft feathers in his snow-white wings. He stilled, his eyes closed, an expression of absolute rapture overtaking his face. So she did it again. Gyrate. Glide. Scrape.

  He shuddered and lifted his head, blond locks tumbling over his forehead. When she reached up to smooth away the errant strands, he nuzzled her palm. A gesture of affection, not just lust.

  So this is what ecstasy feels like.

  A moment later, he was kissing her again, flooding her with more bliss, drowning her in more ecstasy. He kneaded her breasts, the warmth of his skin seeping through her tank. The blood in her veins turned molten, and her bones liquified.

  “Let’s get you more comfortable.” He ripped off her top, then her bra.

  Cool air caressed her fevered flesh. Yes! Dual sensations. Too much, not enough.

  Looking her over, he made an animalistic sound. “Made for me.” He traced a finger around one nipple, then moved to the other, and her entire body jerked. Where his hands touched, his mouth followed.

  He laved; he bit lightly. All the while, she writhed beneath him, chasing an orgasm.

  “No female compares to you.” He leaned to the side just enough to glide that naughty finger around her navel, again and again. Desire soaked her feminine core. Aches consumed her.

  “Galen.” His name was both a plea and a curse. Legion knew she should reciprocate, maybe flick her fingers over his nipples, maybe reach between their bodies and grip his massive erection, but her nails were currently embedded in his broad shoulders, and she loved having them there. Predatory instinct demanded she hold her male in place until he’d satisfied her.

  “When I finally get inside you,” he said, his breaths as labored as hers, “you won’t have to bite me to kill me. Pleasure will do the job.”

  “Yes. Inside me,” she pleaded.

  “I’m not going to take you, not today. I’m going to prove I can maintain strict control with you, no matter the cost to my sanity. I’m going to make you come. Do you trust me enough to see to your pleasure in other ways?”

  She pried apart her eyelids to probe his features. The strain in his beautiful face had sharpened, and a storm brewed in those sky blue irises. His lips were red and sligh
tly swollen from their kisses.

  He’s mine, and I left my mark. “I-I trust you enough,” she finally replied.

  Groaning, he ripped open the fly of his leathers and slipped his long, iron hard length beneath her shorts and panties. Hardness met softness, heat met heat. Maddened by desire, she hissed in a breath.

  “Ah, sugar, you are drenched.” He rewarded her with a wicked smile. The kind of wicked a fallen angel might use to tempt another angel into falling. The kind of wicked she hadn’t known she’d craved until now. “If I do something you don’t like, tell me and I’ll stop.”

  Nails, sinking deeper. “Just…hurry!”

  He didn’t remove her remaining garments, just rolled his hips so that the head of his shaft pressed against her aching core, once, twice. Lances of excruciating pleasure shot through her, creating a fervor of anticipation.

  When would he make her come?

  He withdrew his length from her panties, wrenching a groan from her chest.

  No, no, no! “Galen!”

  “I’m not done with you, sugar.” He sank a finger deep, deep inside her.

  “Yes!”

  In, out. He spread her moisture over her clitoris. In, out. With the next inward glide, he plunged in a second finger, and she cried out. The two digits stretched her. In, out. In, out.

  “The things you make me crave,” he said between panting breaths. As he wedged in a third finger, he pressed his thumb against the heart of her need. “I’m helpless against your allure.”

  Just. Like. That. The ache and pressure collided, a bomb of ecstasy exploding inside her. She shook, lost in the throes of passion. Muscles clenched and unclenched on bone. White-hot heat enveloped her. Her inner walls tightened around his fingers, as if unwilling to part with him.

  Nothing had ever felt this good, her body a live wire of sensation. She soared to the stars, until she crashed and shattered. Her defenses—gone.

  Since her rescue from hell, emotions had plagued her. Hate, rage and helplessness. A corrosive brew, always festering. Here, now, with her barriers disintegrated, all three surged through her, leaving her raw and agonized.

  Galen withdrew his fingers to spread her essence over her bottom lip. To her astonishment—and delight—he licked where he’d touched. A deliciously scandalous act. One that grounded her in the moment, and the frenzy of need, letting the past recede.

  “Hit me,” he commanded softly. “You need to purge, and I need to feel your fury. When you needed me most, I failed to save you.”

  Now the past came rushing back, joining the emotional deluge. “I sh-should have saved myself.”

  “Sometimes we can’t save ourselves. I’ve been locked in multiple dungeons, bound by chains. Once, a dragon shifter burned me alive every time I regenerated. I’ve been staked to a table, my torso cut open from sternum to pubic bone, so that demons could feast on my organs.”

  She cringed. “In hell, that particular torture is known as the All You Can Eat Buffet Experience.”

  “And that isn’t the worst of it. I’ve had all of my teeth extracted with pliers, and my genitals removed with gardening shears. To this day, a certain Greek goddess uses my sac as a coin purse.”

  Now Legion barked out a laugh, only to jolt from shock. “How can you turn a terrible moment into a joyous one?”

  “It’s a gift.” He kissed her temple, a gesture he’d made before. This time, he followed up the action with a kiss on the tip of her nose, then her chin, as if staking a claim on each individual feature. This time, her heart ached. “My point is, sometimes a self-save isn’t possible for a thousand different reasons, but none of those reasons mean you are lacking. Our heart, mind, and body can only take so much. And that’s okay. It happens to us all. That is why family and friends are so important. They help us when we need it most. Then, when they need help, we return the favor.”

  Her eyes misted over, and stomach fluttered. Blood suddenly hot and cold. His every word a caress, but also a searing poker to her inner wounds. The juxtaposition left her dazed.

  “Hit me,” he repeated.

  “Never!”

  “Hit me! For centuries, I’ve been an instigator of pain. Now I’d rather bear the brunt of yours.”

  “No,” she said, but even as the denial echoed between them, she swung. Her fist rammed into his shoulder. Before her mind had time to process the crashing wave of horror—I just punched the man who pleasured me—her other hand was swinging toward his face.

  With a sob, Legion unleashed, hitting and hitting and hitting.

  “That’s my girl.” Blood wet his teeth.

  Hitting, harder and harder. She’d never shared her heartbreak with another. She’d never wanted to share, had only ever wanted to forget. As she shared the pain with Galen, festering inner wounds hurt a little less.

  His eye swelled, and blood blurred his vision. A knot formed in his jaw. “Let the hurt out. Every bit of it.”

  Hitting, harder still, until the last of her strength drained, and she sagged against the floor. Voice ragged, she whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

  He scooped her into his arms, stood, and carried her to the living room, where he eased onto a chair designed to accommodate his wings. For a long while, he simply held her. Neither of them spoke.

  “I’m sorry,” she said with more force. “No matter what you believe, you didn’t deserve my wrath.”

  “And you didn’t deserve the terrible things Lucifer and his demons did to you.” Again, he kissed the tip of her nose, her cheek, the corner of her mouth.

  See! Staking a claim. These feather-light brushes of his lips beamed bright lights of anticipation into her withered heart, revealing a truth she’d forgotten. Life didn’t have to be an endless parade of bad moments. After a storm, flowers bloomed.

  Maybe False Hope was responsible for the shift in her mood, maybe not. Probably not. There was no hint of the fiend’s usual fear.

  “I want to tell you what happened to me.” The tears spilled over, scalding her cheeks.

  He tensed. “This is going to destroy me, but that’s okay. We’ll put each other back together.”

  Back together. Yes. She wanted that. So she did it. She told him. How she was blindfolded and often staked to an altar. The way demons had laughed and taunted her. The way they had poked and prodded at her…the many ways they had violated her. How she’d never known what fresh hell would be visited upon her, the wait sometimes even more agonizing than the actual torture.

  At first, she’d prayed for Aeron to save her. After a while, she’d hoped Galen would do the honors, despite the terrible way things had ended between them. Then she’d prayed for a quick death. But death had never come knocking, her tormentors careful to ensure her human body survived each new horror. Eventually, she’d resigned herself to a pain-filled eternity.

  Galen listened, his muscles knotting. Her teeth began to chatter, even though she wasn’t cold, and he tightened his grip.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Gentle, so gentle, he wiped away her tears. “Their actions speak of their evil, not yours. Your worth was not tarnished by what they did.”

  He sounded certain. 100%, zero doubts in his mind. Legion wasn’t convinced. “As a demon, I tortured countless souls. Later, I tried to murder you. Maybe I did deserve what was—”

  “No. You didn’t. But let’s say you’re right. Let’s say you deserved everything that happened and more. Why did those particular demons deserve to mete out your punishment? What gave them the right to judge you for your crimes?”

  Good question. “Nothing?”

  “That’s right. Nothing.” The minty freshness of his breath caressed the crown of her head. “You love the Lords despite the crimes they committed in the past, yet you judge yourself so harshly.”

  Wow, did this brute have a confounding number of layers. And, by some miracle, she began to believe he was… right. No one had the right to cast stones at her. No one had the right to violate her bo
dy.

  The realization caused the floodgates to open anew, and she sobbed all over again. He petted her hair, stroked her back, and enfolded her with wings, the feathers caressing one side of her body while his intoxicating scent filled her nose.

  By the time her tears dried, her eyes were puffy, her nose stuffy. Exhausted and sniffling, she sagged against him. “Galen?”

  “Yes, Leila?”

  She paused to double check her desires. Did she really want to suggest what she was about to suggest? Yes! “I think we should end the test part of our relationship and try for real.”

  * * * *

  “I agree.” The words rushed from his mouth, an unstoppable freight train. As he held this beautiful woman in his arms, rocking her back and forth, she moved to the #1 spot on his list of treasures.

  She’s mine. I keep what’s mine.

  “Out with the temporary arrangement,” he said, “and in with the permanent commitment.”

  He wanted this woman. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally.

  Eternally.

  Ending their association had never been an option for him; he just hadn’t wanted to admit it before, had feared being rejected. But to let her go, he would have to rip out the best part of his heart and soul, becoming half a man.

  Hell, Leila wasn’t just #1 on his list. She was everything to him, her needs and desires more important to him than his own. He didn’t care if it was healthy or not. He cared about her. Galen would do whatever proved necessary to protect her from the ramifications of an association with him.

  When she’d come apart in his arms, gasping his name and clinging to his body, her tight inner walls clamping on his fingers, something inside him had changed. Contentment had beckoned, closer than ever before.

  Fox was right. Leila was magic.

  Every day since she’d moved in, he’d woken up brimming with anticipation, wondering what she would say or do next. The stunning beauty had turned mundane tasks into mini-adventures and meals into living fantasies. Each night, when he’d placed his head on a pillow, he’d fallen asleep with a smile, replaying their interactions.