The Darkest Kiss (Lords of the Underworld #2)(64)

He was still shocked. Death, too. The demon had yet to stop purring.

Lucien had not expected Anya to take him in her mouth. He had expected her to leave in a huff. He had expected her to be anything but a virgin. That this sexy, courageous, spirited woman had never been with a man...

He'd practically called her a whore, yet she was as pure as new-fallen snow. Guilt clawed at him. What a terrible curse to have hanging over one's head, especially for an independent woman like Anya. A goddess, no less, whose torment would not end in seventy to eighty years but would continue for an eternity.

How well he knew about eternal damnation.

How could Cronus order the death of such a precious woman? How could Lucien possibly kill her, even with dire consequences hanging over his friends' heads?

He couldn't, he realized. He'd never wanted to fall for a woman again, one he would one day have to cart to the hereafter. Yet here he was. Could have been perfect, Anya being an immortal like him, but she would not give up her key, whatever it was, and Cronus would not remove the death-command without it. Perfect, no. A nightmare, yes. But Lucien had fallen for her.

She understood him, amused him, even liked him. Certainly seemed to lust after him. She was everything he was not, and he was the better for it.

Perhaps it did not have to be a nightmare. If he were to steal the key from her...She would be angry, but he did not care. Anger was better than death.

Where did she keep it? He doubted she would let it out of her sight, but he hadn't seen anything resembling a key on her naked body. Could it be locked away in one of her many homes?

No telling when Cronus would next appear. Lucien would have to act quickly.

"Your turn again," Anya whispered in his ear. She rose over him like a sea siren in the ocean blue, pale hair tumbling down her shoulders in sensual disarray. Her skin was flushed and rosy with satisfaction, her lips red and swollen from his kisses.

He had never seen a more breathtaking sight, and all thoughts of the key vanished.

"You do not have to," he said, but he wanted her to do it. Desperately. He had neglected his body for so long, and the pleasure he found with her was so intense. "You took care of me earlier."

"That was earlier, and you're ready for round two. Besides, I like taking care of you." Her lips curled in a slow, wicked smile. "I can't seem to get enough of you."

"I cannot get enough of you, either." He caressed a lock of hair from her cheek. "Foolish me, for trying to push you away."

"Yes. Foolish. But don't worry. I'll punish you for that. I'll give you a tongue lashing you'll never forget." She rained little kisses down his cheek and neck, taking special care with his scars, licking and nibbling them.

What an amazing creature, he marveled. His cock was harder than ever before, pulsing with need. Rather than sate him, one taste had slain him. He was addicted to Anya. Her heat. Her softness. One taste made him want another and another and another.

He might never get enough of her.

In the past, it had been easier to go without sex than to risk any softer emotion, wondering if he would later have to watch his lover die. Right now, he couldn't go without.

Anya fascinated him, as well as Death. Her wit and tenacity gave her the courage to face him when anyone else would have run screaming. Not just because of his appearance, not just because he was possessed by a demon, not even just because he'd intended to kill her, but because of the insults he'd hurled.

Insults she had not deserved.

"I am sorry," he began, hands tangling in her hair. As he did so, he felt the first tug of Death. Heard a roar. Lucien blinked. The demon was being drawn to souls who needed him and was furious at the thought of leaving the bed. "I said it before, but I do not think I can say it enough."

"Why are you sorry?" The hot tip of Anya's tongue circled his navel.

Lucien tried to resist, tried to tune the demon out. "I was rude to you when you deserved only kindness." His testicles drew up and his cock twitched, seeking her. He bent his knees and planted his heels in the mattress. Her fingers curled around the base of his shaft, and he moaned. Sweet fire. He -

Felt another tug from Death, this one stronger, more intense. He nearly roared, and the sound would have blended with the demon's frenzied snarls. We'll move quickly. It was the first time he'd ever had to prompt the demon into action.

Stay.

She will be here when we return.

Hurry!

"I must go. Do not leave." He sat up and pressed a quick kiss to Anya's lips. "Please do not leave."

With that, he allowed his body to become mist and sink into the spirit world. Death seemed to be pacing the corridors of his mind, but flashed him to a small room. Blood coated the walls. Blood and other things he did not want to contemplate.

Two bodies lay on the floor, a man and a woman. The man, Lucien instantly knew thanks to his demon, had wrongly suspected the woman of cheating on him, had shot her and then turned the gun on himself.

Bastard, he thought, then stilled. Hadn't he basically accused Anya of the same? Scowling, Lucien pounded a ghostly hand into the man's body first and jerked the spirit out, not even trying to be gentle.

The spirit struggled against Lucien's hold. Screamed when he saw Lucien's eyes. Faster than he had ever moved before, Lucien flashed to hell and practically threw the spirit inside. He went back to the room and gathered the woman more gently.