The Darkest Promise (Lords of the Underworld 13)

Nope. Not going there. If she gave in to either him or her emotion, she would curse him to an eternity encased in crystal. So she had to let him go. No ifs, ands or buts. What's more, she had to force him to leave her. And thanks to the mirror, she knew there was a way to do so...

Dread slithered down her spine.

Lazarus stiffened and said, "We need shelter. Another cloud approaches." He gathered the packs and pushed through a thick shield of foliage.

She followed, passing a tree of some sort. Maybe. It was nine feet tall and oozed a thick black substance. Tar? The substance covered two vines--two vines that could pass for arms. Butterflies flew above it, creating a colorful canopy.

Doom and gloom...

"This thing...whatever it is, it helped me," Lazarus said. "I don't trust it, though. I don't trust anything in this realm."

They traveled for over an hour, successfully avoiding other traps, sneaky vines and biting insects. The new death cloud continued to trail them, but never caught up.

Lazarus rejected two caves before settling on a third that was smaller than the others. So small, in fact, they both had to crawl inside. Deep into the bowels of the earth, however, the cavern opened up, allowing them to stand. The enclosure had only one entrance and, as such, only one exit--the one they'd crawled through.

He dropped the packs and dug inside. With a snarl, he extracted the stuffed leopard he'd discarded earlier. "I'll be right back."

"Right back" turned out to be fifteen minutes, no toy in sight.

"What'd you do with the leopard?" she asked.

"Tossed it into a puddle." At her side once again, he offered her a canteen. As she quenched her thirst, he opened the caviar and crackers. They ate in silence.

Was he upset with her? He'd offered her love, and she'd spurned him.

Had to. Won't be his downfall.

But...she could have one more night with him. Just one more. And what better night? If she waited until they found Hera, the crystals could overtake him, or he could uses his masculine wiles to convince her to ignore his doom in favor of her temporary happiness. How close he'd come already.

"Do you love me, Cameo?"

The question came out of nowhere. Or maybe not. Maybe he'd read her mind. Maybe he'd asked to begin working those masculine wiles she had no defense against.

There was no denying the truth any longer. She loved him with every fiber of her being. He pleasured her spirit, mind and body. His irreverence amused her. His stubborn determination kept him by her side during the worst of her depression. His care of her made up for every second of sorrow she'd ever endured.

Somehow, he'd become her anchor in the storms of life. He'd become the sun, always chasing her darkness away. He'd filled an empty vessel with hope. He'd fought for her when she couldn't--wouldn't--fight for herself.

She would not put her wants before his needs.

"I'm not going to talk about this," she said.

In the morning, she would do what she needed to do, no matter how bad it hurt. She would let Misery take her memory. Lazarus would kill Hera, as he'd always wanted. That way, Cameo wouldn't try to kill the goddess on her own or save her.

That way, Cameo died, too. Better to go with a known outcome this go-round, too, than try to change the future and possibly make things worse. For herself, and for Lazarus.

She hated the thought of leaving him to deal with guilt, probably shame, on his own. But better he live with guilt and shame than die once again.

I'll gladly give my life for his.

Without her, the crystals would stop growing inside Lazarus. He would have the strength to live forever.

Sadness rose like a midnight tide, attempting to drown her, but she quickly built a dam around her heart. It would hold. For now. He came first.

Cameo used the toothpaste and wet wipes to clean up. Lazarus did the same, tension arching between them. Outside, a storm erupted, the faint scent of rain filling the cavern. Thunder boomed and through cracks in the earth, lightning flashed.

"I don't want to fight with you anymore," she said. Warmth spilled through her. "I just want you."

Pulsing with vitality and masculine aggression, he framed her face with his big hands. His titillating scent consumed her senses. The essence of seduction.

His gaze locked on hers, his pupils expanding and overtaking his irises. "You want me as your man? You want endless kisses? Sweat-slicked skin? Heated whispers? Wandering hands? Moans of pleasure? Grinding bodies? Intertwined limbs? The rest of my days?"

She shivered, and oh, how she ached. But then, his ability to paint such a deliciously carnal picture...to make her want what she couldn't have...was as well-honed as her daggers. "I want here and now."

His grip tightened. "Do you love me?" he demanded again.

Refusing to answer had done her no good. "I do. I love you." Later he would find that admission had done him no good.

"Prove it, then. Give me everything."

Lightning shot through the cracks and illuminated the small space with bright gold flashes. The air charged, electrified, sensitizing her nerve endings.

With a moan of surrender, Cameo smashed her lips into his. Finesse was beyond her. She thrust her tongue against his, offering love...passion...tonight. Only tonight. The feel of his muscled strength was a high like no other.

A high she would never experience again.

He pressed her to the ground, heat to searing heat, and she rolled on top of him. Her hair created a dark curtain that hid them from the rest of the world. His hardness contrasted perfectly with her softness. Her nipples puckered and ached, and she quaked with longing.

She felt his love for her, a rushing river winding through them both. Her love for him sprouted like a tree planted beside the water, growing taller, wider, greater.

Desperate for skin-to-skin contact, she tore at his shirt until the material gave way. Bronzed skin. Magnificent tattoos on display. Savage hunger frothed inside her as she licked and nipped his collar...the center of his chest. She took the time to pay proper homage to his nipples.

He cupped her nape, offering himself in supplication. A masculine buffet of sensual delights, he was hers for the taking. And take she did, lost in her addiction for him.

Yes, I'm addicted. Obsessed, even. Blissfully so.

With the rising of the sun, everything would end.

The thought filled her with sadness.

No, no. Not here, not now. She checked the shield around her thoughts. It held, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Tonight she made memories to last a lifetime. Tonight she enjoyed the gift she'd been given: a marvelous male who saw her as a treasure rather than an anchor. Tonight she pretended she had a tomorrow.

"You are worth every hardship I've ever endured," he rasped. "You are my prize."

See! A treasure. "And you are mine."

"I love being claimed by you." He rolled on top of her, taking the reins of their lovemaking and claiming control.

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She ceded to his power, no part of her body off-limits to him. The muscled weight she so admired pinned her in place, a welcome cage.

"Where do you want to love your man?" he asked. "A beach hideaway? In front of a fireplace?"

Role-playing to help her forget the direness of their circumstances? "No illusions. Nothing false between us ever again. I want you here. Now. As you are--as we are."

He smiled down at her, tender and sweet, and she swore she could have an orgasm simply by looking at him. Beautiful man.

He nuzzled her cheek with his own before his mouth descended, devouring hers as if she were a meal, the last meal...until he was no longer kissing her but making a promise to her: never letting you go.

With deft movements, he stripped her of her top and bra, and tossed both garments aside. Then he cupped and kneaded her breasts. She arched against him, loving the friction...heat...fire. Mmm. He's burning me from the inside out.

"You're mine, and we're in this together." His fingers linked with hers and squeezed before stretching her arms over her head, pinning her more effectively, leaving her vulnerable to him. "Tell me."

"You're mine," she echoed, "and we're in this together." Until morning...

28

"Making your woman happy = making yourself happier."

--Memoir of a Besotted Fool

--How to Give Mind-blowing Orgasms

Primal hunger ruled Lazarus. He had his woman in his arms. His one and only. Finally she would belong to him body and soul. As he would belong to her. Now and forever.

More than taking pleasure from Cameo, he wanted to give. Wanted to give himself to her, the woman he loved above all others. Above himself. Above his vengeance.

His father was wrong. Love wasn't what weakened a warrior. It was the fear of losing what you loved that weakened; Rathbone had tried to tell him that very thing, that fear ruined and destroyed what love empowered, protected and enhanced. Love picked up the shattered pieces of a broken heart and welded them back together, making it stronger than ever before.

Once a weak link, now indestructible.

The truth had struck him when Cameo had said those three beautiful words. I love you. She affected him as no other, her passion a blazing match for his own. She wasn't just his lover; she was his partner.