Underworld Queen

by Sharon Hamilton

  Underworld Queen

  By New York Times and USA/Today Bestselling author

  Sharon Hamilton

  Copyright © 2014 by Sharon Hamilton

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  License Notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  About the Author

  Other Books by Sharon Hamilton

  The SEAL Brotherhood Series

  Chapter 1

  Audray loved being the first-ever woman Director of the Underworld, but she preferred the title “Queen” even better. Jonas had begun calling her that and it became part of her persona almost immediately.

  Maybe it is the way Jonas whispers it to me just before he takes me.

  That word was something she would never tire of hearing, just like the sounds her paramour made as he pleasured her to distraction and beyond. And the best thing of all was that he did it out of love, not obligation. His need to please her was equal to her need to be ravished over and over again.

  And worshiped as only a queen should be.

  Jonas was still wearing his black leather vest, but was naked everywhere else that counted, sleeping like a baby. She tucked her back into the warmth of his chest, feeling tiny against him, and reveled at how safe and protected she felt. She’d never had such a big man, big everywhere, but especially big in the way his soul screamed for her. It took a lot to distract her from all the pleasures in the Underworld, but being in bed with Jonas outshone them all.

  When they’d gotten back to her home in the human world, he’d barely caught the bike when she jumped off. He saved it, of course, cursing softly, before it could tip and fall into her blood red Maserati. Even hearing him curse gave her chills.

  All afternoon she had been touching him as they flew past rows of vineyards and redwood trees on their way home, her breasts pressed against the back of his thick torso. Her cheek rested in the place she smelled his maleness the strongest: at the back of his neck, just under his hairline. She watched the light brown tendrils of his shoulder length hair dusted with gray, catch fire in the late afternoon sun, coaxing her to reach down and squeeze his package, making him swerve the bike. But he was laughing, and she felt they didn’t have a care in the whole world.

  She had thought she would enjoy the powerful Directorship more. Jonas had been an unexpected distraction. Ever since their explosive first meeting, Audray felt her whole world had changed.

  As happened so frequently, when they got to her home they were so intense with need, she ran up the stairs peeling off clothes and leaving them behind for him to gather, which he did, adding to his own bundle of discards. He’d barely got his chaps off in time. Hopping across the bedroom floor he pulled off one boot, then the other, quickly shed his jeans and then dove into her bed and took her without being careful.

  Now resting, their bodies cupped together, her chest pressed against his back, they lay on the grand bed of her queenly suite. He turned her over and snuggled up behind her but didn’t awaken, one huge arm was tucked around her waist, pinning her in place.

  As if I would want to be anywhere else but here. She heard him stir to her telepathic thoughts.

  She could feel the silver buttons on his vest as they pressed into the flesh of her back. He stirred as she pushed her rear into his groin, and yes, there was something there for her already.

  With one powerful arm he propped her to her knees. His finger laid a path along her slick peach from front to back, and then he gave her two large fingers. The muscles in her sex devoured them both.

  Taste me.

  “Yes, my queen.” Kneeling to her, he spread apart her cheeks and lapped her wetness with the sandpaper of his tongue. She felt her release instantly and he drank her juices as if she was the elixir of his life. “More, give me more, my queen.”

  His demand sparked another ripple of pleasure as she jerked, burying her face into the pink satin pillow. While she moaned in ecstasy, he suckled every drop she could give.

  His two hands were on her breasts, as he fondled and squeezed her senseless. She felt his enormous cock as it slowly pressed against the crease between her cheeks, playfully pressing over her anus to find the slit of her peach and plundering her to his hilt, splitting her with need.

  He held her body at her ribcage and slowly moved her up and down on his shaft until she shuddered. Her knees and thighs hugged the outsides of his, giving him full access. It was impossible to get enough of him. Wanton with desire, she was beyond trying to couch her thoughts but let her fantasies run rampant telling him the stories she’d never dared to tell anyone before. The stories of her passion.

  “Ah, yes. And I shall never tire of filling you.”

  “I have a few things I need to do today at the Directorship in the Underworld, Jonas,” she said as she tied the thirsty cotton robe around her.

  He removed his towel and massaged her wet hair, running his fingers through the long blonde tresses. He kissed the side of her neck and whispered in her ear, “And I have a few things I need to do to you today as well.” He polished it off with a kiss.

  Audray turned to face him and smiled. “I think I need to take you with me to the office,” she said as she lost herself in his dark eyes.

  “I promise to inspire you,” he beamed, reaching under the robe and squeezing a breast.

  Audray frowned. “Ah yes, I especially like it when you inspire me.” She placed her hands on either side of his face. “I love it when you surprise me.”

  She felt his groin lurch as he drew apart the two folds of her robe, looking down at her naked body and licking his lips. She opened her eyes wide.

  Again?

  The transport station was located in an abandoned warehouse district, not far from the house Audray had inheri
ted from Peter when she assumed power. The non-descript rusty metal building could only be accessed with a pass key no human possessed. A series of black limousines shuttled dark angels and their belongings between the human and Underworld like a well-run mass transit system, except there were rarely drivers and there was no timetable, but existed on an “on demand” schedule.

  The ride today to the Underworld was quick and efficient. Like getting back to work after a long vacation, Audray felt her body tense and stiffen. She checked her messages on the red palm device. One message troubled her. There had been an incident at the re-entry room, that place where dark angels first stepped out into the Underworld as immortal beings. Several novices were hurt and one was killed. She had been torn limb from limb.

  The perpetrator had been caught and was in chains. Her staff wanted to know what to do with him.

  “Burn him.” She spoke into the palm device as they exited the door of the transport. Jonas took her hand and led her up the steps of the Directorship offices. She thought it odd he said nothing.

  Her staffer squawked back another objection, but Audray cut him off. “I don’t care about his story. Only the Director—” She’d slipped up and corrected herself quickly. “Only I can dish out corporal punishment.”

  “Ma’am, with all due respect,” the scratchy voice on the other end of the phone persisted, “He says he was sent here to meet Jonas. And he says there are others who follow.”

  Audray looked into the dark eyes of her lover, her rock, and now her whole world. Jonas did not plead for the life of this recruit to be spared.

  “You know anything about this?” She asked her paramour, covering up the device.

  “Of course not. But it cannot be good news,” Jonas muttered in return. “Some things from the past should remain in the past.”

  “I agree.”

  Regardless of the reasons for this dark angel’s entry, he’d violated one of the few rules of the Underworld in causing the true deaths of innocent dark angels. She needed to demonstrate her unwavering regard for law and order. She had to rule like a queen. She knew Jonas had a past, just like she had one. There wasn’t any reason to make it complicated.

  “I said, burn him.”

  Chapter 2

  Professor Carl Carrington looked over the bowed heads of his World History class at Meriwether and Grant College. He adjusted his bow tie, stretching his neck up out of his shirt and fingered around the top of his heavily starched off-white collar. One of his colleagues said the students’ nickname for him was Indiana Jones. Glancing over the clutch of seated bodies, he didn’t see any painted messages on any of the girls’ eyelids. He’d always attracted the attention of the younger women, and just as easily dismissed them as typical teacher crushes. But he did think he had Indy beat in looks, with all due respect to Harrison Ford. After all, the actor was getting a little long in the tooth, and Carl was in his prime, at a mere thirty-two years of age. He didn’t mind at all he could pass for Mr. Ford’s son.

  “Time’s up,” he said as he double-clicked the stopwatch. There was a groan and some shuffling of feet as his freshman class began, one by one, to sit up or untangle themselves from their favorite test-taking posture. One male student in the back row scratched the inside of his ear with a paperclip.

  “Okay, now pass your papers to the front of the row, and Jeremy here will pick them up.”

  A young auburn-haired girl with enormous breasts, wearing a low-cut sundress and too much eye makeup handed her paper in directly to Carl, ignoring Jeremy, who was fuming.

  “There you go, Professor. I left my number on top in case you can’t read my writing.”

  Carl’s face flushed and his groin bulged, in spite of the internal scolding he gave himself. It had been months since his weekend with the yoga instructor who took him to a couples Kundalini retreat and blew his mind. Who knew? It was the most intense sexual liaison of his life. He’d come prepared for some stretching and relaxation. What he got was a weekend so hot he couldn’t remember any of the exercises or techniques, and he had to drop out of his Pilates class because the sight of his instructor’s ass was so distracting he thought he might hurt himself. Today he was in desperate need of a lay, but balling one of his students was out of the question.

  “Thank you, Darlene. I’m sure I’ll be just fine.”

  “I’m sure you are, sir.” She winked and turned around slowly. He watched her ass swizzle out the door in spite of himself. He laced his fingers through his curly hair.

  Get a grip, Carl! He looked at Jeremy who obediently stood before him with the stack of collected papers.

  Jeremy also wore a bow tie. In fact, he had even begun to wear sweater vests just like his Professor wore every day. Carl had five of them, one for each day of the week. This being Thursday, he wore the green one.

  “Here you go, sir.”

  “Thanks, Jeremy.” He took the test papers and smiled at the short youth who had become his shadow of late. All but a handful of students had shuffled out of the class. “Um, I’m not going to be in my office this afternoon. I have some research I have to attend to,” Carl said to Jeremy over the sheaf of papers.

  The youth looked crestfallen. Carl would have felt worse, but he’d begun to figure out the boy had formed an attraction for him, of the sexual kind. The obvious signs were growing daily and made him extremely uncomfortable.

  At first, he was flattered Jeremy had such a love of 17th century England, which was Carl’s own interest. He willingly agreed to tutor him, become a mentor. But later, as the meetings between the two got longer and more regular, a different type of relationship was beginning to develop, at least on the boy’s part. He could see Jeremy found something else in him besides facts of history—something that was not returned, and never would be.

  Time to nip this in the bud.

  “Well, sir, I shall see you on Saturday then, at the library.” Jeremy’s pink cheeks were dimpled with a smile between them. He never showed his teeth.

  “I’m thinking you are spending too much time on your studies and not enough time with your family and friends.”

  The boy frowned.

  “Jeremy, forgive me, but all these meetings…it’s making me a little uncomfortable.” The boy looked at his feet so Carl was forced to speak to the top of his light brown curly hair. Jeremy’s large ears protruded out at the sides, reminding Carl of a Hobbit. “Maybe I’m making too much out of this, but I’m feeling a little ill at ease, like maybe it isn’t appropriate to be alone with you so much.”

  There, now you’ve said it. Hope to God his parents don’t have a direct line to the department chair.

  At first, the boy’s hazel eyes shot up in pain. But soon Carl saw his gaze returned with the steely blue-green stare of a dangerous young soul fueled by something very dark. He shuddered as he watched a slow smile to creep onto Jeremy’s youthful face. The smile was Cheshire cat wide, but his eyes were cold and cruel.

  Carl realized he never really knew this kid, and perhaps underestimated his motives. He was suddenly glad he had decided to distance himself from him.

  Jeremy is a ticking time bomb.

  Carl dashed up the shallow steps to the library’s three-story domed lobby, immediately turning right. He was eager to start the research the strange dark lady had hired him to do.

  Stopping at the glass-walled entrance, he straightened his hair and snapped his bow tie, smiling. His perfectly white teeth smiled back at him in the reflection, prompting a grateful inner nod to his mother for having insisted he wear braces as a child. He swiped his teacher’s card and was admitted with a couple of loud clicks. He had an uncharacteristic spring in his step, and sauntering to the reference desk like a young pup, leaned over. To the right, two abandoned tables bordered a two-story picture window. He was disappointed the reference desk was empty. Carl didn’t want to use the bell, but was left no choice. The metallic tinkling sound made his heart flutter.

  Molly, the red-haired goddess of the
reference section, magically appeared. Every time Carl saw her he thought about doing unspeakable things to her in the stacks room, with the smell of their passion and the old leather books filling his nostrils. She reminded him of Tess in the Highwayman poem:

  Tess, the landlord’s daughter.

  The landlord’s red-haired daughter

  A long red ribbon

  Tied to her chest.

  “Professor Carrington, are you alright?” Her green eyes sent the taste of lime to his tongue, as his mouth watered.

  How long have I been staring at her?

  The girl was blushing, and he was suddenly glad for the counter between them.

  “So sorry. I was thinking about one of my students, and I forgot where I was for a second.”

  “Well, whoever she is, I think she’s one lucky girl.” Molly smiled easily. That was one of the reasons he liked coming here, when he could have gone to the large University library downtown.

  Then her words drifted into his consciousness. He was fairly sure he was blushing.

  “Not what you think, Molly.”

  “Really?” She leaned forward and showed him the natural line of her ample cleavage. She pressed the light pink pillows of her breasts into the top of the counter and rubbed them back and forth with a slight turn of her body at the waist.

  Carl swallowed. He adjusted the smooth brown belt on his tweed pants. Then he remembered his mission. The mysterious lady had paid him a month’s salary for his research.

  In advance.

  She’d descended on him while he was attending office hours the week before. When she entered the room she locked his door behind her. As she introduced herself and extended her small hand, sweat had collected on his upper lip and he found it difficult to even tell her his name. She asked him to help her with some historical information about one person in particular.

  “Molly, I need some information about a Jonas Starling, an 17th century British landowner who had interests in the Caribbean.

  “Well, if that’s all, Professor.” She gave him a smile that almost bowled him over.