The Darkest Assassin (Lords of the Underworld 14.6)

Her breaths turned shallow. She rolled her hips, seeking—chasing—a more intimate contact. “Bjorn. Mmmm. It’s been…too long…I want…need…more!”

More. Yes. Could he truly handle more after going so long without a hint of pleasure?

He must. He couldn’t get enough of this woman. Dazed, he sank to his knees, laving and sucking her nipples on his way down. The dusky pearls teased and tantalized him. Then he kissed a fiery path down the center of her stomach, licked a circle around her navel, and nibbled lower…lower still. When he hit his knees at last, he paused to look up, wanting to take in all of her, rather than his new portal to paradise.

Soaked strands of jet-black hair clung to her. Water droplets sluiced down her heaving chest, catching on puffy nipples several shades darker than before. Her spine was arched, her head back. Her belly quivered. With her foot still resting on the bench, he had a clear view of paradise—her swollen, needy little clit, and those pouty pink folds that glistened with feminine honey.

Ravenous, he licked his lips. Then he licked her. A grunt escaped, his eyes closing in surrender. Never, in all his days, had he tasted anything so sweet. Maddened, already desperate for another sampling, he set in with more vigor, licking, sucking, nibbling. Mimicking sex.

Soft cries left her in a rush as his tongue penetrated her core. He wished to penetrate her with something else, too. Something bigger. Harder. He craved the sense of communion experienced only between two lovers. But again, he wasn’t sure he could handle the emotional fallout—yet. Will take this a step at a time.

She arched her spine more pronouncedly, thrusting her breasts up, giving him better access. He skimmed her inner thighs, then palmed the curve of her ass. A perfect handful.

Goose bumps spread over her, fueling a return of his satisfaction. My beauty craves more, too. He traced a fiery path to her core…and thrust a finger into her heat. Wet heat.

“Yes!” When he withdrew the digit, she shouted, “No!” She shifted her hips, blindly hunting for his hand.

Such exuberance! So demanding! Loving her reactions, he thrust his finger inside her once again, adding a second this time, stretching her. So tight. So hot. So wet—dripping. Her inner walls clenched around the digits, another cry bursting from her, this one higher, longer, almost a scream.

The urge to come intensified, pressure building. No, no, no. Fox first. Then me. As he worked her over, he sucked on her clit hard. Between panting breaths, he told her, “Never tasted anything so sweet.”

She gasped, then cried out once again. He sucked harder.

“Bjorn!” Fox came on his tongue.

Chapter Thirteen

An orgasm tore through Fox. So good, so good, so good. Muscles contracted. Blood heated as it rushed through her veins. Her mind soared through the clouds, forming a complete thought suddenly beyond her skill set.

The demon went quiet, and she didn’t know if he orgasmed too and couldn’t speak, or if her satisfaction drowned him out.

Before she could come down from the high, a new tide of lust crashed into her, rendering her satisfaction nothing but a fond memory. She felt as though she hadn’t come in…ever. Tremors vibrated in her bones, stronger aches plaguing her.

Need to be filled. By Bjorn, only Bjorn. A powerful Sent One who listened when she spoke and never went to war with wisdom, simply because it came from a woman. Who treated his enemy—a target for elimination no less—with respect. He never lied, and he always remained loyal to his friends. Not once had he complained about her habit of detaching from emotion. He controlled his temper, exhibiting a perma-calm veneer. Basically, he was a walking, talking grenade to her life plans, with the pin already pulled. But…

She wasn’t sure he was ready for sex. She wasn’t sure she was ready for sex. Bjorn would be her first lover in centuries. Good or bad, she would feel bonded to him afterwards. Already, oral sex had made her feel tender toward him. And ultra-clingy. Never want to leave his side.

Steam billowed around him, creating a dream-like haze as he straightened. Dewdrops glistened on his skin. Tension tightened his features, his inhalations ragged. His gorgeous golden wings arched over his broad shoulders, the edges rimmed by a bony substance that glittered in the water.

Intrigued, she reached out to trace the ridge with her fingertips. At first contact, he hissed in a breath. She moaned. Hard as steel and white-hot.

When she pulled back, aggression pulsed from him. His eyes… Fox shivered. Those rainbow eyes, so lovely and unique, blazed with sexual hunger.

As she watched, he dragged his tongue over his bottom lip to taste her again.

Hot. As. Hell. In a bold one-two move, Fox cupped his nape and spun him around and to the side. The underside of his knees hit the edge of the bench, and he plopped onto the seat. Wasting no time, she dropped to her knees, positioning herself between his powerful thighs.

Shock and excitement emanated from him. He wore them both well. Very, very well.

For a long while, she debated. Climb into his lap and impale herself on his ginormous shaft, or suck him down. In the end, she unveiled a slow, wicked smile and purred, “Time for your tongue-lashing, baby.”

His air of excitement intensified. She thought she also detected a note of relief and disappointment. Like her, he must want sex but fear his reaction to it.

We are definitely more alike than I ever realized.

Trembling, she leaned closer and flicked her tongue over a nipple, then the other. He combed his fingers through her hair and fisted the strands. What he didn’t do—apply pressure, forcing her head to lower. No, oh no, he merely clung to her, as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.

Her traitorous heart skipped a beat. He’s starting to care for me, isn’t he?

She was delighted. No, horrified. No, delighted. Argh! She was delightfully horrified. He deserved better than Fox, the woman planning to win and shred his heart just to escape imprisonment and death. Bjorn would save himself a world of grief if he exiled her from the heavens Survivor-style. Or refused to give her a rose à la The Bachelor. Better yet, evict her from the house like a competitor on Big Brother. Seriously, by the time they parted, Bjorn would have brand-spanking-new trust issues.

Guilt iced her…until the heat of her desires melted it. Mouth watering for him, Fox opened wide and sucked him down.

Roaring, he bucked his hips, sending his length deeper into her throat. “Sorry, sorry,” he croaked, easing up.

“Don’t be sorry for enjoying my kiss.” Down she went. Up. Down again. He was so big, he stretched her jaw. So hot, he scorched her tongue. So sweet he reminded her of morning sunshine. And, yes, okay, morning sunshine had no taste, but no other words properly described the compilation of heat, light, and…perfection. At the moment, her world revolved around him.

When she picked up the pace, he unleashed a series of curses. “Don’t stop. Please, vixen, do not stop.”

Never! But she did pause. “Would you rather be inside me?”

“Yes. No.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Yes?”

Definitely not r

eady. “Soon,” she vowed. And had he just referred to her as a vixen, another word for female fox? Love!

At first, she used one hand on his shaft, following the motion of her mouth, while the other hand played with his testicles. But, the more she sucked on him, the stronger her own arousal became. Finally, she released his testicles to slide her hand down her body…and sink two fingers into her soaked channel.

Having those fingers inside her only ratcheted up her need for more, more, more, satisfaction dancing just out of reach.

Bjorn tightened his grip on her hair, lifting her head. “You are so hungry for your man, you can’t even wait for a second orgasm?”

The awe he evinced had her groaning as she sucked him down again. Sucked him…fingered herself…any second she would blow, the need to climax already clawing and gnawing at her.

“If you do not finish me with your hand, vixen, I will jet down your throat.”

The endearment pushed her over the edge. Pleasured crashed over her, and she screamed around his shaft.

“Fox!” he shouted, her climax spurring his. “I’m coming. I’m coming!” As promised, he poured his satisfaction down her throat.

She swallowed—no, savored every drop. She’d earned it.

When she came down from her second high, panting and trembling, a sense of vulnerability hacked at her emotional lock-box. Suddenly, she felt like an exposed nerve, stripped bare, with no internal armor. Or a Twinkie with an ooey-gooey cream filling. Yet, she couldn’t regret what they’d done. Or even what they hadn’t done.

This wasn’t a one and done deal. They’d be together again; she knew it. This kind of wanting demanded a response.

Needing a moment to compose herself, Fox crawled into his lap and buried her face in the hollow of his neck. Wait. Did he regret what they’d done? Would he blame her for his inability to resist her charms? No doubt he considered his desire for her a weakness. But, as one minute bled into another, he remained relaxed, holding her close with one arm, petting her hair with the other.