The Darkest King (Lords of the Underworld 15)

If—when—they had sex, would their emotional connection deepen?

Would he fall for her faster? Harder?

In the past, he’d used sex to feel better about himself. He saw the truth so clearly now. He’d merely wanted to be wanted. Understandable, considering the trauma he’d suffered as a child. But how different would sex be with a lifemate?

Must know!

Sunny set his video game system in front of the television, then strode to the closet, rolling her hips, making his shaft swell and ache with increasing ferocity.

Control! “Do you play?”

“Not yet, but I’ll learn and kick your aster.” She hung one of his shirts next to a dress. “I’m anticipating many man-pouts from you.”

Though he heard her, he didn’t compute her words. He was enraptured by the sight of their clothes pressed together. Would their scents mingle?

Possessiveness strangled him, but urgency ruled him. Their scents could mingle another way...

Must have her. “Your trust issues,” he said, his voice strained. “What did you worry about the last time I kissed you? Besides my robot ways.”

She hung a pair of his leathers. “That you’d try to harm me or steal my horn, my source of life. Without it, I’ll lose my magic, my ability to shift and my best source of protection.”

How many beings had made a play for that horn over the centuries? “Since you refuse to shift, I can’t get to yours. Problem solved.”

Shrug. Translation: You’re wrong, but I don’t trust you enough to offer the truth. Yet.

“Work with me here, Sunny. Talk to me. You’re going to trust me fully eventually. Why not now? Think of it as your couple-days anniversary gift to me.”

Yearning softened her gaze. “All right. I’ll tell you a little story.”

For some reason, his guts twisted. He had a feeling he’d be furious by the time she finished.

“Our horns are conduits of power. Power is a drug,” she explained. “To demons especially.”

“Go on.”

“Once upon a time, unicorns were all sweetness and light with no hint of a dark side. We lived to make the world a better place, aiding strangers, granting wishes like a freaking genie and sharing our riches with the poor. What did we receive in return? Near extinction. Poachers laid traps. A fair maiden in distress. A lost child. Once they imprisoned us, they removed our horns to sell to demons, leaving us helpless. Magic-less. Then Lucifer and his demons decided to cut out the middleman.”

Her anguish tore through him with the speed of a bullet.

And she wasn’t done.

“Fast-forward a few hundred years after the slaughter of my village.” She hung another pair of leathers, but not before he spied a gleam of tears in her eyes and nearly flashed away to murder Lucifer and present his head at Sunny’s feet. “A demon possessed the guy I was seeing. I didn’t know until he shoved blades in both my shoulders and my ankles, pinning me down. He would ask me to shift, again and again, and when I refused, he cut off one of my fingers or toes.”

Red dotted his vision, rage shredding what remained of his control. “I’ll kill him. All I need is a name.” Actually, William wouldn’t need one if he bargained with Hades for another ten-question session with the Sphere of Knowledge.

Sunny offered a small, soft smile. “He’s already dead. I told him I’d shift and willingly give him my horn. Unicorns cannot lie, so he believed me.”

“But you punished him with the horn instead.” A statement, not a question.

“Oh, yes. I shifted and gave him my horn—straight through his neck.”

“Good girl,” he praised, so damn proud of her. But, his rage was far from appeased. He set his treasured book on the desk, then checked the display case. Locked. “What if we use magic to ensure I can’t steal your horn?”

Shock pulsed from her. “You would do that?”

For her, he would do many things he’d never do for another. “Consider it my gift to you.”

Excitement sparked off her skin. “How would the spell work?”

“Not a spell, per se, but a mystical pledge unbreakable in word or deed.”

“I—wait. My paranoia is flaring.” The excitement ebbed, her skin dulling. “This could be a long con. Vow now, attack later.”

“My pledge will negate any kind of long con. You’ll see.” He crooked his finger at her. “Come here.”

Sunny hesitated only a moment before trudging over.

“I’m going to make an incision in each of our palms to blend our blood.” Best to explain every step of the process, lest she lash out. No one had a meaner right hook. “All right?”

A pause. Then, with her emerald gaze steady on him, she nodded and said, “All right. Let’s do it.”

19

“I’ll be waiting at the corner of Climax and Bolt.”

With his free hand, William palmed a dagger. Sunny’s trembles intensified, but she didn’t dart off. She’s trusting me with more and more, and I’m about to cut her?

He’d never hesitated to hurt someone, especially if their pain somehow aided him. Yet, the thought of Sunny experiencing the tiniest pang had him growling like a wild animal. She’d endured so much already. A shitty marriage, the loss of her people and centuries of solitary confinement.

Do you wish to sleep with her? More than anything. Then. Start. Cutting.

He did it. He made the cut, the incision as shallow as possible, but she hardly seemed to notice. As drops of crimson welled, he drew the blade over his own palm and linked their fingers, letting their blood mingle.

She shifted from one foot to the other. “How will I know the spell worked?”

“You’ll know. You’ll feel it. Just wait.” Peering into her eyes, he said, “As long as you aren’t trying to kill me, I vow I will not steal your horn. I won’t hire someone to steal it for me, or command anyone else to do so. I won’t scheme to obtain the horn at a later date. Do you accept my pledge?”

A dazed nod.

“Say it,” he commanded.

She swallowed hard. “I accept your pledge.”

Then. That moment. A bolt of power shot from him to her, and she gasped, stumbling back. Her jaw went slack. “You’re right. I do, I feel it,” she said, awed. “You truly won’t—cannot—make a play for my horn.”

Knowing he’d alleviated her fears... He wanted to bang his chest like a gorilla. How receptive would she be to his advances now? Would she like his kisses?

Every fiber of his being shouted, Find out!

Yes. He would brand her with his touch, his essence. Would explore the connection between us. Would take her hard and fast, then slow and sweet.

No, no. Not hard and fast. He might rouse her paranoia. He’d go slowly with her. So damn slow he’d agonize them both until they would die without an orgasm.

Arousal scorched him. How had he ever existed without this ferocious wanting?

Better question: How could he exist without it?

The urge to grab her, rip off her clothes and toss her on the bed, the floor—anywhere!—bombarded him.

No. Not yet. Break the curse, then win the girl.

He didn’t know if he had the strength to resist the wanting and needing, but he would try. “I must take a shower,” he managed to say in a somewhat normal tone, as if he wasn’t a ravenous beast inside. “I’m still wearing burial grime.”

“William,” she whispered, trembling against him. “You said to let you know when I have a need.”

That plaintive tone torched his already shredded control.

“Do you want to be fucked, Sunny?”

Her breath caught. “I do.”

“By me.” Another statement. “Only me.”

She nodded, anyway. “Only you.”

“Today.”

“T

oday,” she said, her incredible scent enveloping him. “Now.”