The Darkest Kiss (Lords of the Underworld #2)(62)

Her stomach did that quiver thing again. "It was. My mother and Tartarus, Themis's husband, got it on and nine months later - hello, baby Anya. Themis didn't know until she saw me, for I am the female version of my dad, you could say."

"I remember Tartarus," Lucien said. "I used to bring him prisoners. He was an honorable man, even handsome, but I did not want to strip him."

"Lucien just made a funny." She grinned. She couldn't help herself. "When Themis realized what had happened, she kind of freaked out. I didn't understand the full consequences of her curse until days later when the numbness wore off. Gods, I wanted to cut off her head."

Lust flashed in Lucien's eyes, brief, gone in an instant, but undeniable. "I do not know why it turns me on to hear you talk like that."

She thought she knew why. He was Death. He saw weakness and human infirmity on a daily basis. She was a woman who gave as good as she got. She was strong. Determined. And that had to be a welcome change. At least, she hoped so - because that's who and what she was, and she wanted so badly for him to like her.

"Tell me about the curse." His gaze lowered to the waist of her pants and his fingers soon followed, tracing a line over the upper hem.

Sweet heaven. Here goes. "If ever I allow a man to penetrate me, I'll be tied to him forever. No other man will appeal to me."

Lucien's brow once again furrowed. "That - "

"Is terrible, to think of losing my free will to a man." Except with Lucien, the thought did not carry such a stigma. "I will never be able to leave him, no matter what he does to me. If he falls in love with another, all I can do is watch him, longing for him to no avail."

The more she spoke, the more he radiated sympathy. "For a long time, my will was bound to Death's. What he wanted to do, I did, unable to stop him."

"So you know how bad it can be, yes?"

"Yes. Which is why I would never force my will upon yours. Not in something like this." He licked his lips, leaving a glistening sheen she wanted to taste. "So you have never..."

"No," she gritted out with a single shake of her head.

He was still and silent for a long while, just looking at her. She didn't know what was rolling through his mind. His expression was once more blank, unreadable.

Finally he said, "I judged you harshly and for that, I am sorrier than I can ever say. Anya..." Whatever he meant to add, he must have changed his mind. There was a pause, then, "Have you ever climaxed?" The words were croaked.

What reaction she'd expected from him, she didn't know. She only knew that wasn't it. An apology? Amazing. "Only by myself," she admitted without shame. "I'm not sure if fingers count as penetration, so I've never allowed a man below the waist."

"Do you trust me not to penetrate you?"

"I - maybe." Silly girl. Shouldn't trust him even a little.

An intense fire suddenly banked the contours of Lucien's features. "Take off your clothes for me, Anya. I won't penetrate you in any way, I swear it. But I do want to touch you. Everywhere. I have to touch you."

He disappeared before she could reply. Losing her anchor, she crashed facefirst into the mattress with a yelp. She rolled to her back, scowling. That bas -

He reappeared on top of her. And he was naked.

She sucked in a breath, waiting for him to try to shove inside her as Aias had done. There was a storm of panic, but a moment passed and he did nothing. Gradually, the storm receded and she relaxed. As she did, she realized the feel of his weight was divine, the touch of his bare skin pure temptation.

"Let me," he said.

"I - I - " Her mouth watered. To be pleasured and not fear the consequences...

"Let me have you in every way that I can without actually penetrating," he said, nuzzling her neck. "Please. I want to taste you."

Of all the men she shouldn't trust, Lucien topped the list. But gods, she wanted his mouth on her. She wanted to at last experience a climax with a man. With this man. Only this man.

Decision made, she flashed to the side of the bed. She stripped as fast as she could, Lucien's gaze burning her, then she flashed beside him. He was lying on his back now, giving her a full view of him. Scars stretched from his face all the way down to his right leg.

The overhead light shone brightly, caressing his entire length. And there was a lot to caress. Velvet skin poured over hard steel. He had no chest hair and only the slightest sprinkling on his legs. That black butterfly tattoo still mesmerized her and even seemed to pulse under her scrutiny, as if seeking her touch.

She reached out, grazing her fingertips over the edges as she'd longed to do since first seeing it. Heat seared her. Lucien must have felt it, too, because he arched into her stroke with a groan.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," she admitted.

"And I've wanted you to do it."

Tracing the jagged black lines, she asked, "How did you get the scars?"

"I carved myself with a poisoned blade," he admitted with only the slightest hesitation, "and set myself on fire. When I healed, I did it again. And again."

Gods. The pain he must have endured..."Determined to die?"

"At first, perhaps. The woman I loved had died, and I was the one to escort her soul to the heavens."