The Darkest Warrior (Lords of the Underworld 14)

Almost upon them...

"Your jealousy is cute, and I'm super into it," she told him. "I just want to make sure you won't be mad if I murder, like, everyone here? They're Connachts, after all."

"I've seen you fight, know how good you are. Kill as many as you can and acquire their magic. Then, you'll prove just how super into my jealousy you really are."

Her chest puffed up with pride--in him. He trusted her skill, as she'd hoped, and wasn't going to insist she wait on the sidelines while the big bad boy took care of business. "You take the ones in front, and I'll work my way to the back, making sure no one leaves to warn other outposts."

"Done and done," he said.

"Happy fighting." Gillian pressed a swift kiss into his lips before launching into a mad dash to meet her would-be stable masters.

Puck ran with her, passed her. She noted he moved swiftly, but not as swiftly as usual.

Impact! She reached the fray, stabbed a brute in one eye then the other, while kicking another brute in the stomach. As he hunched over, gasping for breath, she turned the daggers on him.

In her periphery, she saw Puck ram someone with his glorious horns. A dirty move. Even dirtier when he tore the guy off the appendages--in pieces. Pieces he used as clubs on other criminals, until he decided to use his claws to render a few decapitations. Grunts and groans. Spurting blood.

When others attacked, he feinted. Attacked. Dodged. No one landed a blow. He was a hazard to everyone but Gillian.

Perhaps waiting on the sidelines and watching wasn't such a bad idea. So sexy...

No! Must do my part.

Moving on, Gillian stabbed a man in the gut. Removed another's trachea. Six others fell as she worked her way past the tents.

Magic rose from the bodies, absorbing into her runes. Almost there...

Running, never slowing, she bent to pick up a sword someone had dropped. A sword she used to hack an opponent in two before tossing the weapon a good distance ahead. Metal skidded over sand. As soon as she reached the sword, she jumped atop the blade, using it as a snowboard, propelled by magic.

Reaching her next target, she ducked between his legs and raked a dagger over his femoral artery. Putting her weight on her heels, she turned the sword so that her body blocked the last man in her sights.

With a backward hop, her boot slammed into the hilt, sending the weapon whirling in the air. The man swung a sword of his own. Gillian leaned back, the blade soaring over her. As she straightened, she caught her sword, twirled it, and slicked the blade through his neck.

Steal his sword. Go. His magic tracked her as she zigzagged through the tents, granting a fresh infusion of strength. She came out the other side--just in time to see two men galloping away on chimeras.

Though she hated to relinquish her blades, she tossed one, then the other, nailing one male in the nape, and the other between his shoulder blades.

The two fell from their rides as Gillian sprinted forward. She would finish off her targets, and spend the rest of the day--

A bolt of magic hit her from behind, buckling her knees. Air emptied from her lungs, and stars winked before her vision. When she landed, dirt filled her mouth.

Dang it! Rookie mistake. Never let anticipation give you tunnel vision. Always check for a third man.

Whoosh.

Another bolt of magic headed her way? Shields up! Her own magic surrounded her, stopping a second hit. Ignoring little aches and pains, she jumped up and faced off with a male who looked to be in his early twenties.

She geared up to attack, ready, but Puck appeared behind him. In a flash! He'd acquired enough magic to move from one location to another with only a thought. Lucky Pucky.

In a beautiful show of strength and hostility, he grabbed the man by the nape and forced him face-first into the ground. "You hurt her." Fury pulsed from him, a palpable current in the air. "You do not hurt her, ever."

The guy who'd once broken her finger looked murderous that someone else had given her an owie, and it was probably the cutest thing she'd ever seen. "Yeah," she said, and kicked the guy in the mouth, satisfied when several teeth popped out. "You don't hurt me, ever."

Puck looked ready to grin now. "You want to do the honors, wife?"

Toothless squirmed and gasped out, "Prince Neale? Is that you?"

Ignoring him, Gillian said, "You take his magic. I'll take theirs." She pointed to the two males she'd knocked from their chimeras, who were still in the process of crawling away.

"Deal." Puck finished him off without hesitation.

Just as eager, Gillian ended the others. Magic rose from both of her victims, filling her coffers. She'd gone from empty to overflowing in mere minutes.

Now, satisfaction carried her back to her husband's side. Blood smeared his skin, and bits of other people's flesh hung from his hair, but he'd never looked more beautiful to her.

"Your battle skill amazes me," he said.

She fluffed her hair, trying to act cool. A little difficult to do when you were peering at someone with absolute adoration. "What's with your speed? Why didn't you kick things into high gear?"

A hike of one shoulder. "Can't."

Whoa. "What do you mean, you can't?"

"Don't have the ability anymore."

"I don't under--" She gasped, puzzle pieces clicking. "You gave it up. You were low on magic when the rest of us thought we'd turned into beasts, empty even, and yet you freed us with magic."

Another shrug.

He'd given up so much! Too much. And now she wanted to give back.

"Hey," she said. "I have an idea. What if we spend the day--"

At the same time, he said, "We are going to stay here and--"

In unison, they both stopped and laughed. And oh, Puck's laugh! Rusty, but musical and magical--magnificent. A sound she wanted to hear every day for the rest of her life.

"Did you notice I asked and you ordered?" she said.

"I did." Puck hefted her over his shoulder fireman-style. "That's how I know my way is better."

She had to swallow another laugh. "This is getting to be a habit." She tried for a stern tone, failed. So, why not admit the truth? In a stage whisper, she added, "But I like it."

He caressed her bottom. "We are on a clock, I know, but we're not going to defeat Sin if we're weak. We need to rest today, so we are stronger tomorrow. And since we're out of the maze, standing on Connacht land, I doubt we have any more challenges to face. I feel no charge in the air, as I did in the maze."

"I agree. But I get the feeling we're not going to be resting..."

"With good reason. We won't win if we're distracted by all this pent-up sexual desire you have for me." He swatted her bottom now, adding, "I used magic to check the tents. There are no other occupants. We're alone, and no one will be showing up unannounced. I've used my new magic to create a shield around the camp."

The wickedness in his voice sent full-body shivers coursing through her. "What are you planning to do with me and all my pent-up desire, then?"

He remained silent until they reached the edge of the river. "It's not what I'm planning. It's what I'm going to do."

More shivers. "And what are you going to do?" she asked, breathless.

"Enjoy what's mine."

*

Puck tossed Gillian into the water. As she came up sputtering, he stripped out of his blood-soaked clothing. She watched him, her pupils expanding.

Naked, he stood in place, his arms at his side, his legs braced apart, allowing her to look her fill. He was hard, his erection at full attention, ready for her.

She licked her lips.

My woman wants me.

Indifference hadn't shut up, but Puck hardly cared. He was too passion-drunk to be bothered. Too...happy.

Me? Happy?

Almost drunk with desire, he entered the water. Cold liquid lapped at him but failed to cool the fervor in his veins. Actually, he was pretty sure he'd turned the pond into a hot spring.

Gillian trod water, waiting as he dunked a few times to clean the blood from his hair. The closer he came to her, the more anticipation churned in his gut. Only a whisper away, he planted his feet and straightened, the waterline reaching the middle of his torso.

Gaze hot on him, Gillian raised her arms to offer herself like a war prize. He removed her top, tossed it to shore, triumph consuming him. Such beautiful breasts. A heavenly bounty, pert and plump, tipped with berry-pink buds he would soon be sucking.

"I want you," he rasped. "All of you." Always.

"We'll trade. All of me for all of you."

"Accepted."

He let his mouth crash down on hers. She moaned and opened for him, entrancing him with her sweetness.

Her hands moved up his chest, her nails scraping lightly. When she stepped closer, she pressed her body flush against his, heated skin against heated skin. She rubbed her core against his erection once, twice, using him for her pleasure, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

He cupped her ass, helping guide her into a faster rhythm, increasing pressure. Little cries of desperation left her, making him pant.

Then he spun her around, placing her back at his chest. Motions deft, he removed her skirt and panties, cupped her breasts, squeezed, then slid his hands down her stomach and thrust a finger into her hot feminine sheath. Her inner walls gripped him, burning him so perfectly.