The Darkest Kiss (Lords of the Underworld #2)(60)

You're not supposed to desire him anymore.

Well, he wasn't supposed to kiss me.

Grab the chains. Now!

As their tongues dueled, Anya forced herself into action. But she grabbed on to Lucien rather than the chains, gripping his head so tightly her nails scoured his scalp. Such an embrace would have killed a human, but Lucien seemed to revel in it, his erection pulsing under her.

Just a few minutes of play, then I'll lock him down.

He just...he tasted so damn good. Better than she remembered. Man and dark fever, power and roses. His touch was exhilarating, his hands kneading her ass as he ground his swollen shaft between her legs. Much more, and she would come. Then ask for even more. Beg.

Gods, she hated her curse.

And she hated herself for even thinking about fulfilling it. No way you want to be bound to this man, unable to love another, unable to kiss and touch or even dream about another. So why did the possibility excite her? Why did she want to smile at the thought of spending eternity with Lucien? Her heart belonging to him, even if he tired of her?

Don't think about that now. She straddled Lucien's waist, pressing his cock closer...closer...hitting exactly where she needed. She gasped in ecstasy, her entire body rejoicing.

"Take off your clothes," he commanded. "I want to feel your skin."

Yes, yes. "No." Common sense spoke for her. Her desire for him wasn't going to change the night's ending: Lucien chained to the bed and at her mercy, to be punished for trying to take her head.

That doesn't mean you can't enjoy him for a little while longer and take off something. Her hands fisted on Lucien's chest. Obviously, he wasn't the only one who second-guessed himself.

"I want you, all right?" he said. "I can deny it no longer. Know that I am not going to try to kill you during the act. You have my word."

But there was shame and guilt in his voice.

"Fuck me now, kill me later, hmm," she said, not offended when she probably should have been. "Well, you can take off your clothes." Oh, to feast on his glorious body. "Mine have to stay on."

He stilled, stared up at her, passion receding from his face and leaving that blank mask she hated.

She almost sobbed. She wasn't ready for the make-out session to end.

"Why will you not strip for me?"

"Why are we talking? I thought I told you that you weren't allowed to do so anymore," she hedged, pressing closer and sliding her tongue back into his mouth. She didn't want to tell him the truth, but she didn't want to lie to him, either. Not about this. She would much rather enjoy him.

He returned her passion for a few minutes more, hands tracing over the curve of her spine. There was desperation in his kiss. A desperation that was reflected in her own, she was sure. She never wanted it to end, could have stayed in his arms forever. But he finally cupped her jaw and forced her to look at him.

Tension lined his mouth. "You led me to believe my scars did not bother you," he said softly.

"They don't," she replied just as softly.

"Anya. Of all the times to tell me the truth, this is it. Please."

"They don't!"

His eyes tapered, nearly shut, feathered lashes pointing at her like spikes. Suddenly there was an evil glint in both the blue and brown iris, as if the demon of Death had taken over. Lucien gripped her hips and moved her off him.

Confused, she perched at the edge of the bed.

"You want me, but you will not take off your clothing for me," he said. Actually, he growled. "I do not think you really want me, after all."

"I do."

Staring at her, he unsnapped his jeans.

She pulled her gaze from his face, watching the movement of his fingers. Breath caught in her lungs. What was he doing? Stripping for her, as she'd requested? But why would he -

Unziiip.

Her jaw fell open as his erection sprang free. Huge, swollen, long, with a rounded tip already beaded with moisture. Her tongue nearly rolled out of her mouth. Was she drooling?

"You want me," he repeated flatly. "Well, now you're going to have to prove it."

"Wh-what?" So damn big.

"Prove it. Suck my cock."

At his uncharacteristically crude language, her gaze jerked back up to his face. Anger was banked there, as was self-deprecation. His cheeks were flushed with shame. Did he expect her to scoff and walk away? Did he think to teach her a lesson about playing with him?

"What's the problem? Do you not want me?" he mocked. "Can you not bring yourself to do more than kiss me?"

Oh, yes. He expected her to walk. She'd never performed this act before, considering it too humbling and too intimate in light of her curse. With Lucien, however, she was aroused by the thought. His pleasure would be a thing of beauty, she had no doubt.

"Was this to be my punishment for trying to kill you or was this just another attempt to soften me?" he demanded before she could respond. "Either way, we both know you never meant to take it any further. Your cruelty astounds me."

Cruel? When she ached for him? When part of her wanted to finally forget her curse and spend an eternity in his arms? "I can keep myself alive, thank you very much. I don't need your help, and I've never needed to soften you. Didn't I admit that already? And FYI, you don't have any room to talk about cruel intentions."