Shadow and Ice (Gods of War)

by Gena Showalter

“Kiss me.” Nearly crazed with lust, he fisted the hair at her nape and yanked her face toward his. A soft gasp parted her lips—lips he claimed in a frenzy of possessiveness, his tongue rolling against hers.

  The nectar-sweetness of her only maddened him further.

  With a moan, she wound her arms and legs around him, then gradually tightened her hold to pull him closer, as close as possible while they were still dressed. Her breasts pressed against his chest, her nipples harder by the second. Her heartbeat raced in time to his, creating an erotic symphony, a siren’s song.

  He slanted his lips over hers. The kiss quickly spun out of control, and he gloried in every nuance of her, of this. The contrast of male and female. The feel of her velvety skin, as soft as rose petals. The richness of her scent, sugar and spice, saturating every inch of him. The sounds she made, little mewls and purrs as she undulated her hips. The way she scored his back with her nails, leaving her mark.

  With startling clarity, he realized he wanted to wear her mark. Wanted to leave his mark, too. But not like this, with blood smeared all over him.

  The blood. How could he have forgotten it? Knox lifted his head, ending the kiss, surely the most difficult thing he’d ever done—made even more difficult when she urged him back down.

  “I need a bath.” Wanted to give her his absolute best, and be her best. He stood to unsteady legs and pulled her to her feet.

  She pouted, saying, “But why? I like you dirty. Filthy, even.”

  How had he ever resisted her?

  Knox scooped her in his arms and stalked to the pool, every step agony, his erection throbbing. After setting her on her feet, he yanked her shirt over her head.

  A bounty of femininity stood before him. A thin white bra bound her breasts and kept her nipples from his view. Those sweet little berries were made for my mouth.

  He wanted to see her. He wanted her out of the clothes someone else had given her.

  He wanted her naked and begging for him.

  Vale devoured him with a hungry gaze, like for like, making it clear she craved the man, not the combatant. A concept that was foreign to Knox.

  She traced her fingers over the tree of life tattooed on his shoulder. “Exquisite.”

  As much as he hated the image, he also loved it. Until an Ivilandian slave won an All War, citizens regarded him with disdain, even considered him a lesser being. From an early age, Knox had learned to associate his self-worth with battle. One of the reasons he’d always fought so hard to achieve victory, no matter the cost.

  “The rest,” he said. “Off.”

  Vale removed her pants, revealing matching panties and mile-long legs. She was the exquisite one. Ecstasy and agony. Torment and bliss.

  “The rest,” he repeated with a croak.

  “Ah, ah, ah.” The pulse at the base of her neck hammered erratically. Going to lick and suck her there. “Your turn.”

  He kicked off his boots, shucked his pants and hissed as cool air kissed the heated flesh between his legs. She gripped his length and stroked up, up, and he hissed with more force.

  “This is mine,” she said and squeezed. “All mine.”

  About to erupt. He stepped back, determined to regain a modicum of control, and his shaft slipped from her perfect grip. More.

  Not yet. Trembling like a lad, he entered the water, dunked once, twice, and though he was cleaned, his nerves remained on edge. He wanted. He needed. Desperately.

  Knox pivoted to watch as Vale descended into the pool. Her undergarments remained in place, swiftly becoming translucent in the water. Was his woman shy?

  Steam wafted around her, weaving her into the fabric of a dream—or his every fantasy.

  “By the way.” The fantastical illusion only deepened as she swooped a handful of water over her chest. No, not shy. “If you’re the only man for me, then I had better be the only woman for you.”

  “You are.” No one else compared.

  She preened for him, radiant, and he stalked closer...closer... Can’t stay away. Gaze never leaving hers, he picked her up and set her at the edge of the pool.

  “Kiss me,” he commanded.

  She did, softly. He savored her sweetness, a divine contrast to the hard lash of desire. But what began as a leisurely exploration soon morphed into another frenzied claiming, their passion a wild thing.

  By the time he lifted his head, they were both panting.

  He fisted her hair, forcing her gaze to meet his. “Let me taste you. All of you.”

  Her eyes widened, filled with eager delight. “Yes. Do it.”

  He lowered his head to lick a water droplet from her neck, and her pulse leaped up to meet his tongue. Dainty hands settled on his shoulders, sharp nails embedding in his flesh.

  Nowhere in this realm or any other was there a female like Vale. She teased him, amused him, riled him, spoke her thoughts, and never made him guess where he stood with her. Never backed down, either.

  With a ragged groan, he traced another water droplet all the way to her collarbone...to the valley between her breasts...

  “More, Knox. Please.”

  Tightening his grip, he scooted her forward, then forced her to spread her legs wider so that her body cradled his once again. Anticipation razed him as he sucked one of her nipples through the bra, then the other, going back and forth, back and forth, getting drunk on her, burning up inside and out—happy to burn.

  “Knox.” This time, his name was a strangled cry on her kiss-swollen lips. “How do you do this to me? How do you make me want you so badly?”

  “Show me how much you want me.” Hand resting between her breasts, he gave a gentle push. As soon as she lay on her back, Knox slid her panties down her legs. He tossed the soaking garment aside, then placed her feet at the edge of the pool, keeping her legs spread before him...keeping her body vulnerable.

  Goose bumps rose on her thighs. He started at her knee, chasing the little marks with his tongue, heading up, up, closing in on the source of his fascination. The closer he got, the stronger her pheromone became, the more his head clouded and his body ached...the more he liked it.

  Resisting her? Impossible.

  Why fight her allure? He only wanted more...and she’d so sweetly commanded he take it...

  “Knox.” She rocked against him, writhed and undulated her hips, seeking deeper contact.

  “I’ve never done this,” he admitted, currents of excitement speeding through him. To finally know the sweetness of a woman’s desire...to know the sweetness of this woman’s desire...so pink and wet...so lush and beautiful.

  “Do you want to?” she asked, hesitant. “Because you don’t have to if you—”

  “I want.” More than he’d ever wanted anything. Overcome by agonizing need, Knox lowered his head.

  * * *

  VALE WAITED, TORMENTED, every cell in her body set aflame. What if Knox didn’t enjoy this? What if—

  Liiick.

  She screamed, her hips lurching up in reflex. The pleasure was incredible. Mind-scrambling! This was the epitome of rapture.

  Releasing little noises of approval, he licked and sucked on her, and he had no finesse. He was a man starved for his woman, and the realization made her wetter. He’d lost all control. Because of her, Vale London. Because he couldn’t get enough.

  Being still was a feat she couldn’t manage. Pleasure building inside her, building and building, she ground against his mouth. Her blood burned hotter, and her skin pulled taut. Her breasts ached, and her nipples pulsated with desire.

  He reached up, ripped off her bra, cupped and kneaded her breast, pinched her nipple.

  “Yes, yes,” she praised him. “More. So good!”

  “You are so sweet, so wet.” He thrust a finger deep into her feminine sheath, and she screamed again, the pleasure too much, not enough. He pulled it out
, pushed it back in, giving her a taste of relief, only a taste. Then the agony sharpened.

  On the next inward glide, he inserted a second finger, stretching her, and she lost track of her thoughts. It had been so long since she’d experienced a man’s attentions...too long. But never like this. Never this good. There was nothing better. In and out. In, out. Faster, faster.

  Soon she would burst apart at the seams.

  “I want you. Please,” she begged. “Take me. Get inside me.”

  His moans and groans grew more ragged. As he worked his fingers even faster, she continued to beg, but her words were no longer coherent. The pleasure...still building...too much, too much...still not enough.

  Then he began to scissor those plunging fingers.

  “Yes!” Just like that. Satisfaction exploded inside her, sensitized nerve endings crying with relief. Vale screamed once again, louder than before, the sound broken at the edges. The muscles in her stomach contracted, her inner walls clenching and unclenching, trying to hold him inside. Her pulse points raced, her veins containing molten rivers of desire.

  Knox removed those seeking fingers and gave her body a little push backward, making room, allowing him to climb onto the pool’s ledge. Beautifully aggressive and utterly male, he crawled up and loomed above her just as he’d done on the bed. Their gazes locked. Strain darkened his features and thrummed from his body.

  Never had he looked so fierce—or pained.

  “Valina,” he croaked. “My valina.”

  His. Yes. Touching him wasn’t an option but a need. Hoping to gift him with the same satisfaction he’d given her, she reached between their bodies to wrap her fingers around his shaft. Surprise overtook her—new tides of desire crashing into her. He was so wide, she couldn’t close her fingers around him, and so hard he would wring moan after moan of pleasure from her as he hammered in and out of her, so long he would reach places no one else ever had.

  “Does my warrior ache?” she asked, stroking, stroking. Up, down.

  “More than anything.” The words were somehow gravelly yet silken, and made her hungry, insatiable. He arched into her touch and braced his hands beside her temples, his biceps flexing.

  Not hungry. Ravenous. “No penetration? You’re sure?”

  Looking agonized, his teeth gritted, he said, “No penetration. Sure. Make me come.”

  Up and down. Up, down. She pressed his length against her aching core, arched her hips and daubed her moisture all over his shaft. Up, down. Mmm, yes. Delicious. An easier glide. Up, down.

  “That’s the way.” He grunted when she tightened her grip to keep his length pressed against her core, and moved against him. Stroked, moved. Stroked, moved. “I’m close.”

  The grinding motion had the same effect on her, arousing her all over again. Heaving, groaning and moaning, she said, “Going to have...my first two-for-one...climax.”

  “Yes. I want you to have this. You will have this.”

  He was so commanding, so fricking sexy. So strong and powerful but also putty in her hands.

  “Faster, faster,” she intoned. “You’re making me...want it...neeeed it.”

  They moved together in dirty, filthy, delicious harmony. To Vale, nothing else mattered. Nothing but this man, this moment, her thoughts centered on her next climax. Must have it. Must have it now!

  “The things you make me feel.” He leaned down, nipped at her lips. “Never stop.”

  “Never.” She squeezed his length, pressed with more force and lifted her hips. “There! Yes!” This second round of pleasure built on the first, and propelled her over the edge.

  This time, Knox followed her over, throwing back his head and roaring with sublime ecstasy.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  EVEN AFTER KNOX and Vale washed and dressed in clean clothes, after she mumbled something about needing a snack and retreated to the bed, leaving him by the pool, bereft without her, his mind refused to calm. What they’d done...

  A foretaste of contentment unlike anything he’d ever known.

  He’d never experienced anything so turbulent, wild or satisfying. The man known for being brutal, cold and calculated had forgotten about the war, betrayals and consequences. As feared, he’d lost track of everything but the warm, soft woman in his arms. A thousand armies could have stormed into his bunker, but he wouldn’t have cared, as long as he’d gotten to finish what he and Vale had started.

  He wanted to blame the pheromone. A drugging aroma still clung to the air, infusing every inch of his bunker, his body. But he hadn’t slid inside her tight little channel, the way he’d so desperately craved. His resistance had been in shambles, but the pheromone hadn’t dictated his actions, had merely heightened the emotions and sensations...the entire experience.

  Even still, he wanted to be fully immune to it. Immovable, even. Therefore, he needed to train with it, again and again.

  Hard work. Very hard.

  Something else Knox had noticed about the pheromone. The more aroused Vale had become, the more the scent had sweetened. When she’d begged for his shaft—

  His hands fisted, the urge to give her what they’d both so badly wanted almost too strong to deny, even now.

  Resist. Immunity first, sex second.

  He busied himself, storing his weapons in the bower and fortifying the shadows. He even spent a little time polishing Gunnar’s sword. Vale had mentioned “liquefy” and “bond.” Perhaps victims melted from the inside? But what bonded together?

  Though Knox didn’t like to use a weapon until he knew exactly what it would and wouldn’t do, he decided to use the sword on his next foe and gauge the outcome.

  When he exited the little room, he glanced in Vale’s direction, the action unstoppable. He was drawn to her more powerfully than he’d ever been drawn to...anything, even the ice mountains at check-in.

  Check-in. The thought caused a fine sweat to bead on the back of his neck. In a little less than two weeks, Vale would have to stand in a clearing, surrounded by combatants, trapped in the middle of a free-for-all. She’d defended herself against Adonis’s mortal army, yes, but combatants were skilled killers, trained for centuries. Gods. Could Knox protect her while fighting others and safeguard himself?

  It was a feat he’d never before attempted because, out in the wilds of a new realm, he’d never cared about any life but his own.

  The odds were not in his favor. He needed to train Vale...another feat he’d never attempted, because he’d known anything he taught another could be used against him later.

  Didn’t matter. Had to be done. Vale wouldn’t survive the Assembly of Combatants without tutelage.

  Now, she perched on the edge of the bed, her bicolored hair rumpled wantonly, just the way he liked it, her beautiful curves hidden by one of his shirts and a pair of his pants. The sight of her there, in his home, in his bed, wearing his clothes, made his chest clench harder than ever before.

  She regarded him with a blank expression. Why?

  He frowned. Though she’d come apart in his arms only half an hour ago, she’d already withdrawn from him mentally and emotionally? An intolerable development. Always before, he had been the one to withdraw from a lover, determined to avoid any kind of emotional tie, unwilling to give Ansel any kind of leverage.

  Knox tried, tried so hard, but he couldn’t withdraw from Vale. Every time he glanced at her, something akin to affection swelled inside him.

  His eyaer wasn’t pleased.

  The Iviland king knew nothing about Vale, but he would find out. Soon. He had spies positioned in every realm, perhaps even this one. And as other combatants talked to their kings, word would spread.

  If Ansel ordered Knox to hurt Vale... He’d feared it before, but now, the thought was like poison, breaking down his defenses.

  Lips peeling back from his teeth, Knox fought the urge to pu
nch a wall. Hate the king! Will destroy him piece by piece. It’s only a matter of time.

  Inhale, exhale. Good, that was good. When Knox worked with Vale on the best ways to defeat other combatants, he would also prepare her for a worst-case scenario—his attack.

  The eyaer bristled, and he didn’t have to wonder why. Teach someone how to destroy you, and you would be destroyed.

  His pragmatic side agreed, and said, Why bother teaching her anything? She has to die at some point.

  His optimistic side proved stronger than he’d ever realized, and savagely beat the pragmatism into dust, laughing with glee. Knox wasn’t ready to end his association with Vale. She’d asked for a final-two alliance, and when he’d agreed, he’d meant it. They could make this work.

  Knox needed to rest and hopefully clear his head for the first time since Vale had been taken from him. Then he would begin her training. Afterward, he would hunt Ronan, acquire the spyglass, and turn his efforts to Carrick.

  The sword is as good as mine.

  “Are you having a mental breakdown now that you aren’t kissing me, your concentration shot?” Vale asked conversationally.

  Despite the sting of her words, her voice was like magic to him, soothing the ravages of his mind.

  He stalked toward her and said, “Only minutes ago you looked upset but determined to hide it. Why?”

  Temptation made flesh, she peered up at him, a half-eaten piece of fruit resting in her tattooed hand, a droplet of juice poised at the corner of her red, red mouth.

  Will lap up the droplet and seize her lips in another fierce kiss.

  No—not yet. Resist. Can’t get caught up again.

  Forget resting. Will only dream of her. They had played hard, so now they would train hard.

  “Well,” he prompted. “Tell me.”

  “You want to know? Fine. Here it is. You got what you wanted,” she said, and threw the fruit at him. “But then, I clearly like ’em old, bold and paroled, so I should have been prepared for the brush-off.”

  Brush-off? “You got what you wanted, too.” He spread his arms wide and wondered if he was the last sane person in all the realms—or even just this bunker.