The Darkest Kiss (Lords of the Underworld #2)(79)

"I think you're lovely," he said. Unfortunately, that was the truth.

"You're lying."

"No. I was lying earlier, when I called you plain. The moment I saw you, I wanted you. I imagined your naked body on my bed, your head thrown back, your hands, oh, your hands - " His gaze sought them. Yes. They were as smooth and perfect as he remembered. "Your hands seeking the moist heat between your legs, unable to wait for me to join you."

As he spoke, he projected the images into her head. That was the only benefit to the demon. It could ride the undercurrents of his voice and enter a human's mind, showing the listener exactly what Paris described.

Most times, he hated to use the gift. The guilt afterward...He made people desire what they normally wouldn't desire, just as the demon did to him. But this woman was a Hunter, and she didn't deserve his concern.

"Don't - don't talk like that," she whispered. A tremor racked her.

"When you're close to orgasm, I'll lick you. Right between your legs. You'll scream my name."

Her breathing became choppy; her nipples hardened underneath her shirt - a white shirt that did nothing to hide the lace of her bra. An unexpected bit of femininity, considering she was dressed like a sexually repressed ice maiden. Why?

On her legs she wore unflattering black slacks that bagged, and her tennis shoes were clunky and mannish.

"I'm going to pound inside you all the way to the hilt, and then I'm going to flip over and you're going to ride me."

"Don't say things like that," she scolded breathlessly. She pulled at the collar of her shirt. "You're evil, and...and..."

"A man who craves your touch." He was a lot of things, but he wasn't evil. He didn't kill indiscriminately, didn't rape. He and his friends poured money into Buda, fortifying the economy, supplying food to the needy. That counted for something, right?

Hunters were the evil ones, viewing the world in black and white to justify their relentless pursuit of "Utopia," mowing over any human who got in their way.

Her breath hitched.

"I'm picturing you naked even now," he forced himself to continue. "Your skin is flushed, your nipples hard, moisture dripping between your legs."

Gasping, she shut her eyes. "S-stop. Please."

"You're aching for a man's touch, aren't you, sweetheart?" What the hell was her name?

He never remembered names. He could f*ck a woman only once, so there was never any need. Besides, he didn't want to call out the wrong name in the midst of passion. Women tended to take offense at that. "Come here. Let me give you what you need."

"This isn't right," she breathed, but she stepped closer to him.

There was limited slack on his chains, so he couldn't reach out. He'd have to convince her to do all the work. "I'm hard for you. My cock is hungry for you. Only you."

Goose bumps broke over her skin.

With her face softened with arousal, she was almost beautiful. Her lashes were long, the longest he'd ever seen, and feathered like a peacock's tail. "Feel your breasts for me. They want to be touched."

Tentatively she reached up and did as he'd commanded. Another gasp escaped her. "Oh, my."

"Good. That's good."

"I - I - "

Don't give her time to think. But watching her was destroying his concentration. "Unbutton your pants and reach underneath them for me. Under your panties, too. Touch your clitoris. Spread your moisture around."

She started to do as commanded, but froze with her hand poised at her flat belly. "I can't. I shouldn't."

"You can. You should. You want to, you know you do. It will feel so good."

"No, I..." She shook her head, horror sprinkling into her eyes, as if she were seconds away from fighting past his hold on her mind.

Confusion and shock rocked him. She should not be able to fight him. "Your clit is crying for your touch...sweet. But if you don't want to touch yourself, come over here and I'll lick you. I'll lick you until you scream."

She was walking toward him before he'd gotten the last word out. He breathed a sigh of relief. Almost...there..."Just a little more, sweetheart. Just a little closer."

Just before she reached him, however, and just before he could nuzzle her pants down and sink his tongue inside her hot sheath - where he would refuse to give her an orgasm until she rode him - she froze again.

"You keep calling me sweet and sweetheart."

"That's because you are sweet. I can't reach you like this," he said, trying not to whine. "Just a little closer," he repeated. "I need you so badly."

"What's my name?" She no longer sounded quite so breathless.

His jaw clenched and panic infused him. "What does a name matter? You want me, and I want you."

She frowned and backed away from him. "You don't even know my name, and yet you're willing to sleep with me?"

"I would not be sleeping."

"They told me not to trust you. They told me not to get close."

His panic increased, hope slipping away. "Sweet, let's - "

"Shut up!" Scowling, she massaged her temples. "I don't know how you did that to me, reduced me to that, and right now I don't care. But don't you ever - ever! - do it again or I won't wait to find the box before I kill you."