The Darkest Pleasure (Lords of the Underworld #3)(99)

It would, just as soon as he healed fully. Even now he wanted to prop himself against the wall. "We need to lock her up, put her somewhere they won't think to look."

Ashlyn gave a firm shake of her head. "No way."

"Yeah, good luck getting past Reyes." William slapped Lucien on the shoulder, though his amused gaze never left Sabin. "Man is wicked good with knives."

"Who invited you into this conversation?" Sabin grumbled.

"Anya," the immortal replied with a grin. "She said I could stay as long as I wanted. Now, will you let us finish our game or what?"

More and more, Sabin couldn't help but like the irreverent bastard. "Anya, put a leash on your friend."

"Why? I'm winning."

The two returned to their game of pool, Lucien watching Anya bend over to take a shot. "I'd rather we kill the girl than allow her to fall into our enemies' hands. She's too powerful, could perpetrate too much damage to our cause."

No one responded. They'd already tuned him out.

Kane picked up a wine bottle, and the glass shattered. "Damn it!"

Rolling his eyes, Sabin strode to him, grabbed another bottle and filled a glass. "Here. So?" he demanded of the others.

Torin, who stood off in the corner, alone and out of reach, finally acknowledged him. "Touch her, and our groups will split again. Reyes would rather die than lose her, and I would rather lose you than hurt him."

Sabin sighed, scoured a tired palm down his bruised face. He valued these men and didn't want to lose them again. Perhaps one day they would prize him as much as they used to.

Perhaps not.

Doubt, you stupid motherf*cker. I hate you!

"Then we're gonna have to push her to find the third and fourth artifacts for us," he said, "so that the score remains in our favor. Hunters find the other two, and the war might never end."

HOW AM I TO KEEP HER SAFE when the king of gods, every demon in hell and all the Hunters want a piece of her?

Reyes had trouble sleeping that night. Not only because Legion's words continued to echo through his mind, but also because Danika was mere feet away. All he had to do was roll from bed, open the door separating them, and he could sweep her into his arms.

He tried not to think of the first and could not help but wallow in the second. His wounds had mostly healed, so he had the strength to claim her.

One more time.

Too dangerous, he'd already decided.

Worth a chance. She's worth a chance.

If you're gentle, you minimize the risk.

Gods, he didn't know where the thoughts originated. With himself or the demon. And did he care? Having Danika one last time, holding her, feeling her warm breath, luxuriating in her soft body, glutting himself on her sweet taste...

Fisting the sheets, he ground his teeth together. These were hazardous thoughts. Hated thoughts.

Welcome thoughts.

She was so much a part of him, he didn't like being without her. He needed her. Wasn't complete otherwise. For her own good. Better this way. Be selfless for the first time in your life. How many times would he have to tell himself that? Her family hated him and had every right to do so. They would castigate her for staying with him. Guilt would bloom inside her, and hate would soon follow on its heels.

Distracted as he was, he didn't sense the intruder until it was too late. A cold blade pressed into his neck.

He stiffened. His lashes lifted and his gaze landed on Danika. Had she been an enemy, he would have reacted less violently. As it was, his entire body shuddered and jolted. Moonlight bathed her, shining around her pale head like a halo. Her hair was loose and tumbling around her shoulders. She wore an oversize white T-shirt. His. A sense of possessiveness awoke every cell in his body.

He was rock hard.

Fight this.

"How did you escape?" he demanded.

"I've learned to pick locks since the last time I was here."

Her stormy scent wafted to him and he couldn't help but inhale deeply. "Go back to your family."

"Nope. Sorry. I'm going to prove I can hurt you without suffering myself."

He didn't give her time to cut. Quick as a snap, he grabbed her wrist and held tight, preventing her from moving. With his other hand, he claimed the knife and tossed it to the floor. Her eyes widened as he next jerked her forward, right on top of him.

He rolled them over and pinned her into the mattress. Fight this. Fight - her breath fanned over his cheek. Her breasts meshed into his chest. Her legs wound around his waist, placing her wet, bare core against his erection. She was liquid fire.

All thoughts of resisting her vanished. One last time, he found himself thinking again, the urge tempting him. Winning the battle. Not that he'd put up much of a battle. "You should have stayed with your family, tucked safely in bed."

Her chin jutted stubbornly. "I missed you," she admitted grudgingly.

He rubbed his erection against her sweet spot, unable to stop his hips from moving. She gasped, he moaned. So good. Always this good.

"You're naked," she said on a raspy breath. "Hmm, I'm glad." Her arms wound around his neck and pulled him down for a white-hot kiss.

His tongue dueled with hers, wild, untamed. He arched back only long enough to rip her shirt over her head and toss it aside before diving back into her immediately. Her nipples stabbed at him, her hands clutched at his back, and her legs fell open, pressing them as close as they could be without penetration.