The Darkest King (Lords of the Underworld 15)

No, no. Focus. Must ensure her pleasure. He licked, sucked and nibbled, tilted his head this way, tilted his head that way, exactly how most females loved but... Sunny returned to passive acceptance.

Damn it! What the hell had even happened? What had he done wrong this time?

He lifted his head, ending the kiss, and pressed his forehead against hers. His pulse did not slow.

“Why’d you stop?” she asked, and he was pleased to note she panted ever so slightly. “You were doing slightly better than before.”

Slightly? Slightly! He worked his jaw. She baits me, nothing more. “You enjoyed the kiss. For a bit. What changed?”

“Honestly? You changed.”

He pinched her chin, forcing her gaze to lift to his. Uncertainty and sadness blazed in her eyes, the gleam of calculation gone. Her defenses had toppled, giving him a glimpse of the real Sunny. It affected him on a level so deep, he couldn’t analyze it.

Finally he told her, “I don’t understand.”

“At first, you were like a live wire. But the more we kissed, the more detached you became, as if you were a robot programmed to kiss everyone the exact same way. I could have been anyone, and you wouldn’t have cared, which meant you weren’t invested. Which meant you didn’t care about my pleasure, or even your own, only the outcome. Which meant your reasons for kissing me had nothing to do with genuine desire. Which meant you could go from my bed to another’s in a blink. Which meant—”

“Enough,” he snapped. “I get your point.” And what a sharp point it was, his ego already in tatters.

Somehow, William found the strength to pry his hands from her silken hair and off her perfect ass, and take a step back. As many women as he’d bedded, Sunny was the first to complain, and the only one he’d hoped to impress.

Not good enough. Never good enough.

He rubbed the spot just over his heart. What prince of darkness couldn’t satisfy his woman?

“Why do you sleep with so many women?” she asked, soft, so soft.

“Why else?” he quipped, going for a light tone, as if he hadn’t a care. Needing contact, any contact, with the woman who maddened him as no other, he pinched a lock of her hair between his fingers. “Pleasure.”

“I don’t think so.” She shook her head, pulling the lock free of his fingers. “I think there’s more to it than that.”

“There isn’t,” he said, his tone flat. “As a young prince of the underworld, I had a startling epiphany. If being wanted by one woman thrilled me, how much more amazing would it feel to be wanted by many women?”

“Or you were searching for...your mate.”

“I wasn’t.” Maybe I was? Mates were supposed to complete you, something he’d always longed to feel. What if he had searched for his, but he’d been too afraid to admit it, even to himself?

The mere possibility... Reeling...

He needed to talk this through with someone. Shockingly enough, he wanted that someone to be Sunny. She’d proven quick and bright, her insights astoundingly accurate. But as he peered at her, his gaze rapt, the calculated gleam returned to her eyes, and he knew. The only thing I’ll get from her now—trouble.

Did he kick her out? No.

She jutted her chin and glided closer, closer still. When she stood a whisper away, she reached out to touch his face.

He caught her wrist, stopping her. Then he had to mask a tremor of excitement with a cough. What did she have planned for him?

A sweet smile bloomed. Too sweet. She batted her lashes at him. “Don’t beat yourself up, baby doll. So you’re not as sexually suave as you assumed. So what. We’ll keep practicing. Together. Just you and me.”

He knew she played some kind of game, but still he thought, Practice, yes. You and me.

Scowling, he released her and stalked behind the desk, where he plopped into the plush leather chair. He would hand her a stack of photographs and send her on her way.

Any second now.

He had things to do. Like craft a game plan of his own. Something to help him resist her allure. He could want her, yes. Fall for her, no.

Any. Second.

“Yesterday, you mentioned you keep track of your sexual fantasies. Tell me about them.” Damn it! Not even close to what he’d planned to say. Did he take back the question, though? Hell, no.

Still batting those lashes, she said, “I’ll tell you, happily, if you’ll tell me how often you beat off and what you think about when you do it. Use the lotion, get the potion, yeah?”

Hoping to embarrass him? Soon she’d learn. Nothing embarrassed him. “I prefer the expression whack the meat, spring a leak. And if you average the last eight thousand years or so, including a decade of abstinence, I’d guess twice a day.”

Her eyes flashed. “Seriously? An entire decade without a little nooky hooky? But you’re just so...you.”

Shrug. “I was in my early hundreds, still just a lad, when Lucifer and I were brand-new enemies. Hades told me abstinence would increase my strength, helping me win the feud. A decade later, when I was out of my mind with lust, he admitted he’d punked me.” Fun times. William waved his hand, telling her, “Your turn. Let’s hear a sexual fantasy.”

She thought for a moment. Eyes going dreamy, setting off all kinds of warning bells inside his head, she said, “I picture a strong, gorgeous man. He’s dressed, but not for long. He strips. I watch.”

William’s mouth went dry. The warning bells? Forgotten. “And then?”

She purred with pure, sexual carnality, nearly unmanning him. “He strips me, too, and...does a load of laundry, washing our dirty clothes. Oh, yeah. Oh, baby.”

William snickered, genuinely amused by her wit. Which irritated him! She’d successfully avoided his question, while getting an answer from him, and it was sexy as hell.

Definitely need a game plan. He handed her a stack of photographs. “Go over these. If you discover any kind of message, contact me immediately.”

“Sure. But contact you how?”

Since his cell phones tended to get destroyed by bullets, daggers and fire, he purchased or stole prepaid burners all the time. Wanting some kind of 24/7 link with Sunny, he dug through his top desk drawer to find the phone he’d already bespelled to work in any realm. Tossing it her way, he said, “You’ll find my number in the address book. The passcode is—”

“Let me guess. Sixty-nine sixty-nine?”

“Please. I am not so childish as that. The passcode is e-m-k-c-u-f, no spaces. In case you forget, that’s fuck me backward.”

Amusement crinkled the corners of her incredible eyes as she shifted from one foot to the other. “How are you able to speak profanity in front of me? No one else can.”

“My age and experience, perhaps.” He hiked a shoulder. “I’ve killed gods. I’ve gained and lost powers most people can’t even fathom.”

“Or...your species?”

He gave a stiff nod. He had no clue about his lineage. Was he a fallen Sent One, like Axel? Maybe a hyb

rid of some sort?

Did Axel remember their parents?

Longing squeezed William’s chest. Ignore it. He’d had to make a choice. Speak with Axel or believe Hades’s prediction—some part of him would die, if ever he met his brother. He’d chosen to believe Hades, and he would live with the consequences. No matter how bad it hurt.

“You have really long eyelashes,” Sunny blurted out.

Interesting segue. But he could roll. He leaned back, crossing his ankles, saying, “My eyes sparkle like sapphires. I’m built like a tank and hung like a stallion.”

Now she wrinkled her brow, clearly confused. “I don’t understand what you’re doing.”

That makes two of us. “You started a list of all the things you like about me, yes? I contributed.”

A tinkling laugh left her, the sound of it melodious. He closed his eyes briefly and savored the audible caress. “I do keep lists in my diary.”

His shaft jerked beneath his fly. “I remember. You keep a list of sexual fantasies.” And damn it, he needed stronger defenses against her allure, before he morphed into a lovesick puppy who followed her around, yapping at her heels. He needed...magic.

He sucked in a breath, a game plan taking shape. Of course, the more magic he possessed, the more it would interact with his emotions, increasing the likelihood of “birthing” another “child.” The most excruciating experience of his life. Couldn’t be helped, though. He would do anything to combat his growing fascination with the unicorn.

To acquire more magic, he had only to kill demons. His runes would do the rest, absorbing their immortality and converting it to magic. Much like trees converted carbon dioxide to oxygen.

Snap, snap, snap. He blinked.

Sunny braced her weight on a single palm and she leaned his way, snapping her fingers in front of his face.

He snarled a curse. He’d gotten lost in his head—again. Do I want to die?

“What thoughts keep dragging you from my spectacular presence?” she asked, the calculated gleam brightening.