The Darkest Night (Lords of the Underworld #1)(81)

"Don't want... to hurt... you," he snarled, speaking between kisses.

"Can't."

"Hurt..."

"Won't."

His head tilted to the side as he deepened the kiss, took more of her mouth, feeding a hunger that lived deep inside her. She loved it, embraced it. Maddox was passion, total, breath-stealing passion, and he was ferocious in the giving and taking of it. As she'd wanted; as she'd needed.

"I'm going to give you what you crave, and I swear to the gods I will not hurt you," he said.

"I want you and everything you have to give. Everything."

He gripped her ass and jerked her against him, pushing the air from her lungs. Breathless, she wound her legs around his waist. He backed her into a wall. Cool stone dug into her bare back, but she didn't care.

Wildness had never been a part of her life. Home, work, home, work. That's all her life had consisted of, really. She'd told Maddox that she'd been glad for her solitude, but the truth was, there were times she'd been starved for touch. Any touch.

This was more than she'd ever dreamed.

His erection pressed between her open thighs, not entering, not yet, but hard and hot through his pants, through the towel, hitting her exactly where she needed it most. A moan burst from her. She gripped him, nails digging into his chest. His nipples were so hard, they abraded her skin.

"Feels good," he said, palming one of her breasts. His touch wasn't gentle, but it wasn't rough, either, offering the perfect balance of pleasure and pain. He shook, as if he were holding himself together by a single strand of control.

"Yes." Yes. Her stomach quivered, shooting jolts of blissful, melting heat through the rest of her body. Over and over she arched forward, back, forward, rubbing against his shaft. She'd never been so wet. She'd never felt so needy, achy. Never wanted to drown, to die, to live, to fly all at the same time - but she did now.

"Want it... like in the books you read?" He bit at her chin, down her neck.

"Told you. Want you. Only you." The nips stung, but he licked at each twinge until it became sensitized, further kindling her desires. He shoved at the towel and pinched her nipples then, fingers a little rougher than his teeth had been. There was a rumbling in his chest, a sound of primal urges that mirrored her own.

"Towel. Off." He didn't wait for her response, but jerked the material from her and tossed it over his shoulder.

Icy air kissed her skin. Rather than wrap her in his arms, warming her, he pulled back and looked at her. Just looked, up and down, slowly, lingering, savoring. Somehow his gaze was hotter than a touch, obstructing the cold.

When he peered at her like that, she felt like a goddess. A siren. A queen.

"Beautiful," he said. "So beautiful." His hands followed the same path his eyes had taken. He touched her entire body, leaving no place unexplored.

"Yours."

"Mine." He licked and sucked her collarbone, leaving a sizzling trail. "You are the most perfect thing I have ever beheld." He cupped each of her breasts again. "Perfect pink nipples made for my mouth."

"Taste them."

He laved one nipple, that wicked tongue flicking back and forth, then turned his attention to the other. Then he backed her to the center of the room and dropped to his knees.

Her eyes closed in absolute surrender. Amazing things happened when this man got on his knees. Decadent things. One of his hands snaked around her middle, hugging her close. And as he continued to lave her, he caressed her thighs with his free hand.

Touch there... right there... Oh! Every time his fingers brushed her clitoris, they darted away before exploring fully. Frustrated, she almost fell. He held her up, his teeth grazing her flesh. "Need more," she told him.

"Soon."

"Maddox," she said, desperate. If he'd just sink a finger inside her, she'd come. More than she wanted to come, however, she wanted to explore him. "Touch you, too." She was panting, barely able to get the words out.

He was on his feet before she could blink, staring down at her with his eyes on fire, a collage of red, black and purple. Without a word, he swooped her up and tossed her onto the bed. Cool silk slid over her heated skin. And then he was on top of her, pinning her down. His weight was surprisingly luscious and more sensual than she could ever have anticipated.

Golden light bathed him, created a halo. He really was an angel just then. Her angel. Her savior and her lover. "Take off your pants," she commanded. His bare chest burned her deliciously, and she could hardly wait to feel his bare legs...his hard, swollen penis, nothing in the way.

He didn't comply. Shivering, she reached for his waistband to push at his pants.

He shook his head, stilling her. "When they come off, I'll be inside you." His voice was low, gravelly.

"Good. I want you inside me."

"Not done tasting." He eased off her a little and trailed a finger down the planes of her stomach.

Oh God. "Yes, taste more. I want... I need..." More of everything. If he wouldn't let her remove the pants, she'd work around them. She worked her hand underneath, gripped him.

He hissed in a breath. His eyes closed briefly. "Ashlyn."

He was so big, she couldn't close her fingers. Thick, full, amazing. As she skimmed her hand up and down, up and down like she'd seen him do in the shower - oh, so good, never stop - he finally, finally worked a finger inside of her. She gasped at the heady sensation.