The Darkest Pleasure (Lords of the Underworld #3)(44)

He wanted pleasure, the only way he could get it. Even though he knew better. Her innocence was already gone. What harm could there be in taking things a little further?

"If you will not attack me, kiss me," he said. He was trembling now, his need too strong to be denied. If he couldn't have the pain he craved, he would take something else. Her taste. He doubted it would sate him, but he didn't care.

She gasped, and he wasn't sure whether it was in horror...or anticipation. Then he saw her nipples harden, and he knew. Anticipation.

His chest felt as if steel bars were pressing down on it. "Kiss me," he said, and the words were so low, so quiet and needy, he could barely hear them.

"Go to hell," she repeated, staring at his lips. This time, however, there was no heat in her voice. Only husky desire.

"If you will not come to me, perhaps I will come to you."

She didn't offer a protest. Goose bumps broke out over her delectable skin, her breaths shallow and the pulse in her neck fluttering wildly. And yet he suspected deep down that if he kissed her, she would hate him. Hate him more than she already did. She didn't want to want him, would be ashamed for giving in to her captor, one of the men responsible for her family's current predicament.

Still, he found himself stepping toward her.

She jerked upright, panic in her eyes. "Why are you doing this?"

To gain his bearings, he paused in the center of the room. His chest had started aching again, Pain soaking it up, savoring every pang. "I have to know."

"What? What do you have to know?"

"What you taste like." Another step.

"What happens when you know?" she rasped.

"I stop wondering. Stop dreaming of you every night, thinking of you every minute of every day." Another step closer. "I think you wonder, too. I think you dream of me and wonder. You hate yourself for it. You hate me for it, but you cannot stop."

She was shaking her head, sunny hair flirting with her shoulders, caressing her elegant neck. He wanted to be the one to touch her, tickle her. He wanted to give her pleasure, even if he could feel none himself.

Finally he admitted the truth. She was different from the other women he'd known. While they had been living beings, they hadn't been fully alive. Danika was. She was the epitome of life and vitality. Perhaps, for one blessed moment, he could soak up that life force and find pleasure in a pleasurable act. Perhaps she could gift him with release - without pain, without suffering and agony. Just once.

"The Darkest Pleasure"

"I don't want you," she choked out.

"Liar." If he didn't do this, he would be haunted by what-ifs for the rest of eternity.

Two more steps and he was at the side of the mattress. She didn't scoot away. She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Her little white teeth nibbled once more on her bottom lip.

"As I said before, you could have left this house, this room, but you didn't."

"A moment of insanity." Her eyes darted over his face. What she searched for, he didn't know.

"Many moments. I slept for hours."

"So? That doesn't mean I want to kiss you. That doesn't mean I want your hands all over me, skin on skin."

Sweet heaven. "What does it mean, then?"

Her lush lips parted and her tongue swiped over them, leaving a sheen of moisture.

"Nothing to say?" Slowly, slowly, he leaned down.

Slowly, slowly she stretched out, lying down, putting more and more distance between their mouths. When her back hit the mattress, she had nowhere else to go. But she didn't turn away, didn't push at him.

Finally he was only a whisper away. He braced his palms at her sides. Strands of her hair caressed his skin like live wires against a switchboard. Gods, the agony. The agony of being so close physically and knowing a kiss was all they could share....

More, his demon begged. Please, more.

Reyes was as hard as a rock, every nerve ending alive. "What does it mean?" he insisted.

"You talk too much." Danika glared up at him, eyes as harsh as her tone. Demanding. Wanting. "Do it. Get it over with. End it."

He wished it were that simple. Do it, never think of it again. Never want it again. Never want her. Perhaps even forget her, so that if Aeron ever claimed her, Reyes would not care. Would not wish for death himself.

"What are you thinking about?" Danika asked, softly now.

Gods, she was lovely. Even piqued, she radiated such beauty it hurt to gaze upon her. Her lashes were long and thick, and there was a single freckle beside her right eyebrow.

"Did you - did you change your mind about the kiss?"

"No." How could he, when he craved it more than a tomorrow? "You may not give me another chance. I want to savor every moment of this."

"If we're going to be fools, we need to get it over with. Savor later." Obviously tired of waiting for him, she latched on to his cheeks and tugged him all the way down. He fell on top of her, and her breath burst out on a gasp. He inhaled deeply, taking every molecule inside his lungs, branding himself with her essence.

"This means nothing," she said.

"Less than nothing," he lied.

"I'll hate myself later."

"I hate myself now." She opened her mouth to reply, but he swooped in and swallowed the words.