The Darkest Torment (Lords of the Underworld 12)

One day I’m going to devour this man.

He tugged off the gloves, the black lines on his arms a bleak reminder of the violent life he’d lived—a life she wanted to soothe. She’d noticed those lines deepened in color every time he returned from one of Hades’s tasks, knew they represented a death he’d dished.

Once upon a time, a thought like that would have freaked her out. She and Baden were too different. Now? Bring on the new story, the new ending, because she was thoroughly enjoying this new beginning. His kindness and concern had built a bridge across the vast gulf dividing them.

He shed his boots, his pants, then his boxer briefs, finally leaving him completely bare, and oh, he was the exquisite one. He was absolute perfection. A thousand other words described him, but none actually did him justice.

His shaft...she almost couldn’t believe she’d had her hand wrapped around it. It was big. Too big...but the ride to the finish line would be fun.

“You’re staring, krásavica.” His fingers enfolded the wide base and stroked up. “Do you like this? Want it?”

Eye on the prize. Well, the other prize. “I do. So let’s do what’s necessary to ensure I get it.”

He approached her, stopping when they were a whisper away. His delicious scent teased her: lick me, bite me, never stop. His heat taunted her: I have what you so desperately crave.

A single deep breath would rub her nipples against his chest, creating a crucial friction...and her resistance would crumble.

Biting her lower lip, she motioned to the table. He climbed on top and stretched out on his back, facing her.

Naughty boy. “Want to watch me, do you?”

“Always,” he rasped, unabashed.

She selected a bottle of vanilla-scented oil and moistened her hands. Pressing her hip against the side of the table, she held her fingers just over his chest without actually touching him, letting his anticipation build until he vibrated.

Now. She traced a fingertip lightly down his sternum, and he inhaled sharply.

“Painful?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Expected. For now. “Tell me if it worsens.” She traced her fingertip along the same path, again and again, always gentle, the oil leaving a glistening trail.

After a while, the furrow faded from his brow. His frown eased.

“Just as bad as before?” she asked, turning her attention to his butterfly tattoo.

This time, he hesitated. “Yes?”

A question. Definite progress.

The new ground she conquered caused his furrowed brow and frown to return with a vengeance. Thankfully, prolonged contact eased him, just as before. By the time she’d covered his entire chest, he’d stopped stiffening altogether and arched into every caress.

Keep it short and sweet! Always end on a positive note.

Though she trembled, thinking she might die of want, she concluded the session while both of them were eager for more. He protested. He protested loudly. Only her promise to start again first thing in the morning pacified him.

But the night proved torturous. A night they spent in different bedrooms. If they were together...

At dawn, she lumbered to the bathroom and took a shower. The water only reminded her of the heat and softness of Baden’s skin. Need to get my hands on him again.

She pulled on the cashmere robe. A naked Baden waited for her outside the door. He was hard, and he was fierce. Silent, he drew her to the table, stretched atop it, and waited.

Game, set, match.

“You’re ready?” Her trembles returned as she moistened her hands with the vanilla-scented oil.

“Beyond.”

With the first stroke, he groaned a sound of ragged desperation. With the second, he stiffened. With the third, he...relaxed?

She worked her way down, drawing closer and closer to his shaft, the object of her captivation.

Was he truly ready for more?

Shouldn’t rush, just because I’m starved for him. She changed paths, heading up, up; she circled one of his nipples, then the other. He cursed, even as the little brown buds tightened for her.

“Think they can tolerate the feel of my mouth?” Wisps of desire infused her voice. There was no hiding her need. Right now this man owned her.

“Think I don’t care if they can or not. I want your mouth.” Agony and pleasure pulsed from him, a potent black magic that intoxicated her. “Give it to me. Please.”

The ache between her legs...too much! But she lowered her head, anyway and flicked her tongue over his nipples. When his moans became harsh demands, she began to suck.

“Katarina.” He reached for his erection, as if to stroke it.