The Darkest Promise (Lords of the Underworld 13)

She rolled closer and kissed his sternum--lower than he'd hoped for and yet not low enough. "I want so badly to be free of Misery. Now that I've tasted pleasure? Darkpit, I can't live with the demon much longer. I just can't."

Panic seared and branded him, overshadowing his arousal. "You will not harm yourself, Cameo. You will not allow harm to come to you." Must remove the demon. He's the danger.

How?

"The order of a king?" she asked, and he thought he felt a hot tear slide down the ridges of muscle in his stomach. A fucking tear.

The order had been issued from a man. Her man. But he found himself saying, "I will find a way to help you destroy the demon. A way you will remain safe." Shut your mouth. Offer no more. You can't--But something inside him had broken. His resistance? That tear... "Until then, I'll stay with you, guard you. Even from yourself if I must."

Her gaze snapped up, meeting his--and yes, there were tears caught in her lashes. His guts twisted.

"I'm a one-night stand, remember?" She glared at him. "I don't want you hanging around me just because you're afraid I'll put the final punch in my Lifetime Achievement card."

She'd just given him an easy out. A way to say goodbye now...or in an hour...perhaps in the morning. Maybe in a day. No more than two. He should take the out and run, never looking back. The longer he stayed with her, the faster his health would decline, the more mobility he would lose. He had to be at his best if he hoped to defeat Juliette and Hera.

Time wasn't his friend, not anymore. In the spirit realm, he'd had decades, centuries and even millennia to fortify the defenses of his palace, to grow his army and train his men to be the best of the best. Here in the mortal world, where Juliette and Hera lived, he had less than four weeks to get his shit together before becoming a cog in Hades's war. A war that would require his full attention.

"Plus," Cameo added, "I'll be busy. I have to find Pandora's box. It's now in play. Torin says someone found it."

Annnd his guilt used him as a punching bag, beating him black-and-blue. However, his resolve remained firm. He would never give this woman the box. If ever Misery overwhelmed her, she could use it to facilitate a swift--and certain--end.

"Any ideas about the culprit?" he asked.

"Not yet."

Not ever. He would take precautions. "What about finding your pleasure?" He leaned down to draw her nipple through his teeth. "Shouldn't you take this opportunity to use and abuse me? By the way, I'm naming your nipples. This one is Naughty."

Moaning, she slid her hands in his hair. "What's the other one's name?"

He turned his attention to the little beauty in question. "She's Nice. And you will remember our time together...every second. Vow it."

"Just because you decree it, doesn't make it so."

"The demon needs your permission to wipe your mind."

Cameo jolted upright, dislodging Lazarus. "What? No way." She pushed him, widening the distance between them. "I would never agree to part with my memories." She opened her mouth to say more, only to bite her lower lip. "I wouldn't," she reiterated with a lot less force. "And how could you even know something like that?"

"How do you think?" He seized her shoulders, pushed her back and rolled on top of her, pinning her to the mattress. "Misery makes you so sad that you beg for a fresh start." Which meant she had willingly parted with her memory of Lazarus.

The knowledge settled, but poorly.

He nudged her legs apart, his lower half settling more comfortably against hers. Hardness to softness, need to need. Then he pinched her chin, staring at her with enough force that her gaze met his.

"Whenever the demon inundates you with sadness, think of this."

She licked her luscious red lips, leaving a glimmer of undisguised intent behind. "You on top of me?"

"No, sunshine. Think of the things I make you feel." He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers before shifting to nuzzle her cheek with his own and then bite the lobe of her ear.

Going boneless, she said, "Give me another orgasm?"

"Are you asking or telling?"

"Asking." Though her eyelids were heavy and hooded with desire, he could see her eyes glowed with wicked challenge. "The first time could have been a fluke."

"A fluke? A fluke!" He rubbed his erection against her core. "Sunshine, I'll be giving you three orgasms today."

She gasped with mock horror. "No, please. Anything but that. Absolutely anything, oh great and mighty king of Grimm and Fantica."

Funny girl. "Keep talking. Dare you. You're about to earn yourself a fourth."

"I owe you a special kiss, remember?"

"As if I could forget."

She opened her mouth to reply. He swallowed the words, pressing his lips against hers and thrusting his tongue deep.

"Lazario." Moaning, she softened against him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He nearly howled in triumph. He loved when she clung to him, her treasure of femininity his to plunder. "Going to explore every inch of you," he told her. "Will leave no part of you untouched. Then you can give me that special kiss."

A hard knock sounded at the door. "You'll want to get dressed now." Thane's voice blasted through the room. "Juliette the Eradicator has returned--with her entire clan."

19

"Never allow your bark to be worse than your bite. The two should be equally terrible."

--The Art of Keeping Your Female Happy

--Becoming the Monster You Were Born to Be

Cameo jumped from the bed, her mind racing with a million different thoughts but also tingling, as if Misery were still kicking at her skull. No, not kicking--she felt no pain--but dancing over her cerebral cortex. An odd sensation, and one she'd never experienced until earlier today when Lazarus arrived at the club.

Heightened sensual awa

reness? Simple, wanton desire?

Fury? Juliette's arrival had interrupted Cameo's second orgasm.

Juliette would pay.

Trembling, Cameo pulled on her shirt. As Lazarus donned his, his motions were sharpened by a dark rage she'd only ever glimpsed inside the griffin's cave. He should be overjoyed. One of his dreams was about to come true.

She sheathed one of his daggers and checked the magazine of a small semiautomatic he'd stored in his boot. Excellent. Fully loaded.

"Hope you don't mind, but I'm borrowing these," she told him.

He glowered at her. "Keep them. They are yours. But stay here." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "Please."

As the only female in a group of strong, burly males, she'd heard a variation of that very command--stay here--so many times she'd lost count.

"Screw you, darkpit." She had to work harder than her male friends simply to be regarded as an equal. While doing so, she had to endure ridicule. What men considered strength in other men, they considered malicious in her. She had to fight to be heard after listening to repeated mansplaining. "Your former consort needs to learn I'm a formidable enemy. Apparently, so do you. Also, she needs to know your ass belongs to me."

"Cameo--"

"No. No excuses about the big strong man protecting the weak little female. If you want me in your bed, you'll have to accept me at your side. No other outcome is tolerable." Okay, she'd just taken a huge gamble. Before, Lazarus had only requested a night with her. He'd just agreed to more, but not because he liked her or couldn't go on without her. Because he feared for her safety.

Oh, she knew he still desired her. He had a fully loaded AK-47 under his straining fly every time he glanced in her direction. Was desire enough to herald her happiness--and sustain it?

He'd been clear from the beginning that he wanted to wed a queen, not for love. That he wanted an alliance, an army. He didn't consider her marriage material.

The reminder stung, and Misery gloated.

His eyes narrowed as he palmed a dagger. "Your heart is too sweet."

"Are you talking about my heart, or one of the hearts I keep in a jar at home?"

He blew her a kiss. "I know what you're doing. Extolling violent escapades so I'll see you as a warrior rather than a passionate woman, but it's not going to--"