The Darkest Captive (Lords of the Underworld 14.5)

So incredibly hard.

“I can do anything I want to you,” he taunted, “and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

Those panting breaths quickened. “Galen,” she croaked, nearly breaking his heart. “I want… I need…” She arched her back, purposely rubbing against him.

A broken moan left her parted lips, shocking the hell out of him. She wasn’t the tiniest bit afraid. Desire ruled her.

Groaning, he circled his hips to grind his erection between her legs. The pleasure…the pain. I’m dying. No, I’m dying happy.

“You can stop me,” he said. “Leila, stop me! Prove you can. Then you can do whatever you want to me. Whatever you need.”

What happened next happened in a blink. Without broadcasting her intent, Leila slammed her forehead into his chin. Stars winked through his line of sight and blood filled his mouth. She worked one of her legs between their bodies, drawing her knee up, up. Then she kicked him in the face, rattling his brain against his skull. He stopped seeing stars, a black abyss threatening to swallow him whole.

The next thing he knew, Leila had pinned him. He lay flat on his back, panting, his burst of pain fading. He peered up at her, pride overwhelming him. “You did it,” he said, and smiled. “You protected yourself.”

Her gaze remained glued to his lips. Voice filled with smoke and gravel, she said, “I want…”

“Tell me, Leila.” Please. “What do you want?”

Now her gaze flipped up to his, revealing endless pools of heat and hope. “I want more.”

Chapter Eight

The moment Galen’s wing had first caressed Legion’s skin, pressure had begun building inside her. Who was she kidding? Pressure had been building since the moment he’d rescued her. No, before he’d rescued her. Since the moment they’d met.

Today, pressure had roused heat. Heat had roused tingles, a racing heart, and a never-ending ache between her legs.

Now, Galen flipped her over, pinning her down just as before. His wings blocked out the rest of the world. Any hint of her distanced and controlled self-defense teacher—gone. In his place, a ruthless seducer.

“Are you sure you want this? Are you sure you want me?” With one hand, he held himself steady. With the other, he cupped her breast and teased her throbbing nipple with his thumb.

“I am.” Desire chased away any lingering fear. This man… oh, this man. He was the epitome of carnality, lines of tension branching from his eyes and the erotic slash of his mouth. His pale hair was messy, his cerulean eyes bright. Sweat glistened on his skin.

What made him most beautiful, however? He was as vulnerable to her as she was to him.

With his words, his actions, he’d empowered her and set her ablaze. In hell, she’d been an object. To Galen, she was a treasure.

I can forge a life with him. A good one. We can be happy.

She cried out with want. Yes, yes. A good life. Happiness. Old desires reignited, the very reasons she’d risked everything to acquire this human body. She could have a family of her own. If she worked hard enough, she could be queen of her castle, so strong no one could ever make her do anything she didn’t want to do.

Of course, Galen could lose interest in her at any time. Her heart tripped over her ribs. No Galen, no family. He could choose to be with another woman, leaving the queen without her king.

Instant recognition—Jealousy at work.

Focusing on the exquisite pleasure that seethed inside her, she reiterated her demand. “I want more. Now! Give it to me.”

“Yes.” He swooped down, and pressed his lips against hers. Their tongues dueled, the sweetness of his taste unraveling any lingering reservations.

Her puckered nipples grazed his chest when she inhaled. Since she was panting, she inhaled a lot. Every breath proved shallower than the last. A scorching current electrified her cells. Her limbs quivered. Inside her, the pressure and heat only escalated.

She wound her arms around him, clinging to the only man who’d ever wanted her. The real her. The only man who’d ever known the real her. Who’d made her come alive with a simple touch.

“Even better than before,” he rasped against her lips.

Yes, yes. But then, she knew him as a person now, not as an enemy.

He…it…this felt so good, no, great, no, incredible; she couldn’t think beyond the moment. He was hard as a rock. He smelled like paradise. And his hands—those big, callused hands. One tangled in her hair, the other moved to her waist. Both held her tightly, reverently, as if he’d never handled such a valuable prize. So different from—

No! Do not let the past intrude on the present.

“Leila.” His black magic voice pulled her under his spell. “Can’t get enough of you.”

Her body cradled his. Bowing her back, she spread her trembling legs. He ground his erection against the epicenter of her world, sending more tingling heat careening through her. Heaven on earth.

“You like this,” he said, and she wasn’t sure if he meant the words as a statement or a question. “You like me.”

For a “selfish bastard”—Aeron’s favorite Galenism, not hers—Galen sure did give more than he took. Then her thoughts fragmented, her mind only processing one word at a time. Sublime. Glorious. Blissful. “Galen.” Somehow, his name perfectly encapsulated each of the descriptors.

“Yes, Leila.” He nipped the line of her jaw, then ran the lobe of her ear between his teeth. “Always yes.”

As she purred her approval, he returned his attention to her lips. Desperation tinged their next kiss. With more and more aggression, he rolled his tongue against hers. So good! The bliss…

Gyrating against his length faster and faster, she threaded her fingers through his silken hair, scraped her nails along his back and over the downy-soft feathers in his snow-white wings. He stilled, his eyes closed, an expression of absolute rapture overtaking his face. So she did it again. Gyrate. Glide. Scrape.

He shuddered and lifted his head, blond locks tumbling over his forehead. When she reached up to smooth away the errant strands, he nuzzled her palm. A gesture of affection, not just lust.

So this is what ecstasy feels like.

A moment later, he was kissing her again, flooding her with more bliss, drowning her in more ecstasy. He kneaded her breasts, the warmth of his skin seeping through her tank. The blood in her veins turned molten, and her bones liquified.

“Let’s get you more comfortable.” He ripped off her top, then her bra.

Cool air caressed her fevered flesh. Yes! Dual sensations. Too much, not enough.

Looking her over, he made an animalistic sound. “Made for me.” He traced a finger around one nipple, then moved to the other, and her entire body jerked. Where his hands touched, his mouth followed.

He laved; he bit lightly. All the while, she writhed beneath him, chasing an orgasm.

“No female compares to you.” He leaned to the side just enough to glide that naughty finger around her navel, again and again. Desire soaked her feminine core. Aches consumed her.

“Galen.” His name was both a plea and a curse. Legion knew she should reciprocate, maybe flick her fingers over his nipples, maybe reach between their bodies and grip his massive erection, but her nails were currently embedded in his broad shoulders, and she loved having them there. Predatory instinct demanded she hold her male in place until he’d satisfied her.

“When I finally get inside you,” he said, his breaths as labored as hers, “you won’t have to bite me to kill me. Pleasure will do the job.”

“Yes. Inside me,” she pleaded.

“I’m not going to take you, not today. I’m going to prove I can maintain strict control with you, no matter the cost to my sanity. I’m going to make you come. Do you trust me enough to see to your pleasure in other ways?”

She pried apart her eyelids to probe his features. The strain in his beautiful face had sharpened, and a storm brewed in those sky blue irises. His lips were red and sligh

tly swollen from their kisses.

He’s mine, and I left my mark. “I-I trust you enough,” she finally replied.

Groaning, he ripped open the fly of his leathers and slipped his long, iron hard length beneath her shorts and panties. Hardness met softness, heat met heat. Maddened by desire, she hissed in a breath.

“Ah, sugar, you are drenched.” He rewarded her with a wicked smile. The kind of wicked a fallen angel might use to tempt another angel into falling. The kind of wicked she hadn’t known she’d craved until now. “If I do something you don’t like, tell me and I’ll stop.”

Nails, sinking deeper. “Just…hurry!”

He didn’t remove her remaining garments, just rolled his hips so that the head of his shaft pressed against her aching core, once, twice. Lances of excruciating pleasure shot through her, creating a fervor of anticipation.

When would he make her come?

He withdrew his length from her panties, wrenching a groan from her chest.