The Darkest Surrender lotu-9
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Relief joined the fury and the tenderness. “I won’t piss on their charred remains, then. So how’d you kill them? I mean, I know they burned to death, like you said, but how did you manage that? You had to have done it after you were pinned. Otherwise you would have been sliced like a Christmas ham.”
Smart man. “I…” As those memories surfaced, she frowned, looked away from him. “I don’t want to tell you,” she whispered. While she was satisfied with the end results, getting those results had opened a veritable Pandora’s box of complications—and she didn’t think Strider would appreciate the irony.
Dark lashes fused together. “Do it anyway. Now. And start from the beginning. I want to hear everything.”
So commanding, her warrior. So sexy. She hadn’t wanted to tell him, but she would. Had planned to even while uttering the refusal. She would do anything, even this, to keep him from experiencing a moment of pain. “I climbed the ledge and the Hunters were waiting for me. They rushed me and we fought. I would have won, too, but they knew to go for my wings.” Probably courtesy of Juliette, even though discussing such a weakness with anyone was forbidden and punishable by death. “Once those were broken, pinning me with the swords was easy.”
Every word had him tensing. “I didn’t hear you scream.”
She knew that; she’d made sure he hadn’t, holding her cries inside. She hadn’t wanted to distract him from his fight with Lazarus. Which he must have won, since he was here and evidently pain-free.
Had she called him sexy? She meant irresistibly ravishing. But why hadn’t he heard the Hunters’ screams? she wondered. Interesting. Had someone somehow kept the noise inside the cave?
“The rest,” he urged on a croak.
Do it. “I was so mad, so…desperate, the heat inside me just kind of spilled out.”
“I know that heat,” he said huskily.
Her brows knit together in confusion. “You do?”
“Yeah. When we made love, you burned me pretty badly.”
“What!” She must not have been paying attention to his body, only her own. Selfish much? “Gods, Strider. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m not.” His lips twitched in his first true display of humor since she’d woken up. “I liked it.”
That didn’t calm her. She could have killed him. Rather than considering that, however, and perhaps bursting into tears, she hurried on with her story. “I caught fire, but it didn’t hurt me. I didn’t understand what was happening, just watched as the men around me caught fire, too. And when the others tried to run out of the cavern, I looked at them and the next thing I knew, they were writhing as they burned. My Harpy laughed.” To be honest, so had she. “Then I just kind of blacked out.”
“I don’t understand. How could you catch fire and be okay minutes later?”
The answer was the very reason she hadn’t wanted to discuss this. “I should have put the pieces together before this, but I discarded them as silly. Maybe because I was too distracted with the courting of my consort.”
He barked out a laugh. “Discarded what as silly? And you’re saying you courted me? Baby doll, if the past few weeks are your idea of courting, we seriously need to work on your dating skills.”
“Shut up. I nabbed you, didn’t I?”
“Yeah,” he said tenderly, huskily. “You nabbed me.”
That mollified (and melted) her. “As I was saying, my father is a Phoenix shape-shifter. I must have inherited a few of his abilities.” And she didn’t like that she had! Of course she valued her newfound ability to fry her enemies to a smoldering crisp, but the Phoenix were an exclusive, unwelcoming race and anyone who displayed the tiniest bit of pyrokinesis was captured and kept—forcibly—within their territory.
Honestly. She had no idea how her mom and dad had ever hooked up in the first place.
O-kay. Gross. She shied away from that thought. Anyway. That’s why her dad had kidnapped her and Bianka all those centuries ago, to ensure they did not exhibit an affinity for fire. They hadn’t and so they’d been set free. Not just set free, but told never to come back.
She should not be exhibiting such an affinity now. Phoenix could withstand intense heat and control fire from birth. Until now, she’d never been able to. So how had this happened? Why now? Latent ability, perhaps? But then, shouldn’t it have hit with puberty? Only other thing she could think of was the one thing that had changed in her life. Her need, her burning desire, for Strider.
When—if—her dad found out, would he come for her? Demand she live with his people? No need to consider it. Yeah. He would. And she would refuse. Would she be forced to war with him and all his brethren, just to live her life as she wished? Would he make a gamble for Strider in an attempt to force her hand?
“I’m glad you inherited your father’s abilities. You’re alive and nothing is more important than that,” Strider said. “You did a great job.”
“Really?” She would never tire of his praise.
“If your goal was to worry me to death, then yes.” He was glowering now, his affection morphing into anger. She figured the what-ifs were driving him crazy. “You are never going off on your own again. You will chain yourself to my side and like it. Understand?”
She would not deign to respond to such a ludicrous statement. “Just so you know, you did a good job, too.” Maybe if she applauded him, he’d stop letting his concern speak for him and remember she’d won.
“Well, you didn’t do a great job, and that’s the gods’ honest truth. You almost died! You didn’t scream and I know why. You didn’t want to distract me. But guess what? I’d rather you had distracted me! I could have raced to the rescue and helped you do that killing.”
He also could have burned to death with the Hunters. “Well…well…you didn’t do a good job, either!”
“Nope. You already said I did.”
“And then I said you didn’t.”
“Sorry, no take-backs. You sucked this up because you let yourself get pinned. Don’t do that again. Do you even realize what they could have done to you?”
Yep. The what-ifs were definitely driving him. The indignation drained from her. How could she blame him? Had the situation been reversed, she would have done the same thing. “I won’t do it again.”
Strider pushed out a labored breath, visibly relaxing more with each molecule of air that escaped him. “So why didn’t you want to tell me about the Hunters?”
Well, maybe she still possessed a little indignation. Quite primly, she said, “Because telling you about my newfound firepower meant I’d have to tell you something even worse—we can’t have sex anymore.” And she meant it. She might have forgotten her resolution upon first awakening, but she recalled it now.
“Like hell!” he roared.
“Strider, we can’t. I’ll burn you.” Badly. Perhaps even kill him.
He softened his voice when he said, “You didn’t last time.” Then he finally, blessedly, turned into her, pressing his cock between her legs, hitting her right where she wanted him most.
Her need exploded back to life and she had to clench her hands in the rug to keep from reaching for him. The heat…she could feel it building again, seething beneath her skin. “Liar. You said I blistered you.”
“I also said I liked it.”
Don’t you dare soften. “Doesn’t matter. Last time I’d never set anything on fire. Now that I have, the chances are greater that I will again. And when I’m with you, I apparently lose all hint of common sense. I won’t be able to control myself.”
“If that’s the case, you won’t be able to fight in the other two games, either. Your anger most definitely will be ignited and you’ll erupt, killing everyone around you.”
“Yeah, but I want to kill my opponents.” Not really, but she didn’t want to admit he had a point.
“Which will endanger your family.”
Damn him!
“Just pucker up, buttercup, because this is happening. If you can take it,” he added
thoughtfully. “Your injuries…”
He’d just pricked the hell out of her pride and her chin lifted. “I can take anything.”
“Good. I’ve worried about you for too damn long and I need you. More than that, I deserve a reward for taking care of you. Don’t I?”
Concern for his safety persisted. He was the most important part of her life. “That’s your demon talking. I know it. If you would just think this through, you’d—”
“Baby doll, I haven’t thought clearly since I met you. We’re having sex. You’re gonna like it, I’m gonna like it, and we’re gonna come out of this alive.” He paused, snickered. “Get it? Come out of this.”
She rolled her eyes, but his complete disregard for her fears did much to help alleviate them.
Strider wasn’t done, though. “My demon likes to dominate you, yes, and being with you sexually is far more satisfying than anything else because he’s also afraid of you, making your surrender all the sweeter. But he hasn’t accepted a challenge yet. This is just you and me. And need. Hard, raging need.”
She nibbled on her bottom lip. “I don’t want Defeat to fear me. I want him to like me always.”
A slow smile curled his lips. “Good. ’Cause the bastard just purred his approval.”
“Really?” Finally she allowed her arms to wind around his neck. He pressed his shaft against her, rubbed back and forth and pulled a groan of pleasure from deep inside her. But the heat intensified, pulsing from her and he began to sweat. That scared her. “Strider.”
“I’m your consort. You can’t hurt me.”
Another good point. “But…that’s your arousal talking.”
“No, that’s my trust in you and your strength talking.”
“You said I did a piss-poor job.”
“Did not.”
“Did, too.”
“Zip it, Kaia, and stop stalling. Look at it this way if you want. Your Harpy is one badass chick and she loves me. She’s not going to hurt me. Deal with it and let’s move on.”
“She tolerates you,” Kaia lied.
“She obviously needs a vocabulary lesson. She loves me. And,” he went on before she could comment, “she’s stronger than your Phoenix side. She has to be.” As he spoke, he thrummed her nipples, giving her more of the sweet, sweet contact she’d craved so badly. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have gone this long without setting people on fire. But. If it makes you feel any better…”
He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the exit. She felt the drop in temperature the moment Strider stepped outside. Snow poured from the darkened sky, as determined as a rainstorm.
“We’re alone out here,” he said. “Everyone else left yesterday and Lysander posted guards on the other side of the mountains. No one will be sneaking up on us.”
Good to know. What was embarrassing was that she hadn’t given the possibility of a sneak attack a moment’s thought. Only this man. Only his touch.
“You’re going to freeze to death,” she warned as he laid her down in the snow. Goose bumps formed over her skin as she cooled.
“Make up your mind. Either I’ll burn to death or I’ll freeze to death. Which is it?” He spread her legs as far as they would go and crouched in front of her. “So pretty,” he said, running a finger through her moist slit.
Her back arched in supplication. “So good.”
“So mine.” He teased her clitoris, ramping up her desire—and touching everywhere but there. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” she breathed. Always.
A kiss and a lick at the center of her need, making her moan, and then he was once again looming over her. The snow fell around him, hauntingly beautiful. He didn’t enter her, not yet, but started that slow, hard rub all over again, teasing, teasing. She gave another needy moan.
“Strider. Please.”
“Gods, you taste good. I need another.” Back down he went, licking and sucking.
The pleasure slammed through her and her fingers tangled in his hair. The heat blossomed again, despite the chilly winds, spinning through her veins. Though pleasurable dizziness hazed her eyesight, she watched him, determined to stop him at the first sign of danger. Sweat beaded on his temples and dripped onto her thighs. Sweat, but no welts. Good, good, so good.
His tongue never stopped working her, sinking in and out, making love to her, before finally sliding over her clitoris. With one final press, he brought her to a quick orgasm. Satisfaction burst through her, traveling from between her legs into her chest, her arms, her feet, sweeping a tide of sensation through every part of her. Flames erupted from behind her eyelids, but at no time did those flames leave her.
She began to believe. She could never hurt this man. Neither intentionally, nor unintentionally. He was her other half, as indispensable as her heart. Hell, he was her heart. He calmed her Harpy and now, apparently, he tamed the Phoenix.
“Open your eyes, baby doll.”
She obeyed without question. He was poised over her, hair plastered to his scalp. Sweating still. The tip of his penis brushed her drenched opening and she had to bite her lip as renewed desire sparked.
“Confession time,” he said. Another brush. “You burned away the angel robes. From both of us. That’s why we were naked. And you did set me on fire. Once. But I got over it.” He didn’t wait for her reply but slammed into her, sinking as deep as he could go.
Automatically she arched to meet him, to take him, to take everything. “You…bastard,” she managed to gasp out. He was so wide, he stretched her. So long he hit her deeper than any other. But she was so wet, the glide was easy. “I could…kill you, doing this.” She’d been so sure, after that climax, that she couldn’t hurt him. Now, to find out that she had hurt him…that she could again…
“Accident,” he said on a moan. He surged deep again, pulled out, surged.
“I won’t risk you.” Could she push him away? For his own good, for his own good. “Strider—”
“You don’t have to risk me. And I’ll prove it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
STRIDER BROUGHT HIS WOMAN to peak after peak, showing her no mercy, bending her body in every position imaginable. He sucked on her nipples, licked her from head to toe, teased her sex with long, sure rubs, pounded inside her, slow and easy, then sped up, fast, faster, strokes becoming quick, shallow, then deep, piercing.
When she lay on her back, nearly unable to catch her breath, he placed her legs on his shoulders. When she reached another peak, he moved her legs to his waist. When she reached yet another peak, he flipped her around and took her from behind. Through it all, she writhed and moaned and begged for more.
More. Yeah, he could give her more. He thought he could love her like this forever and still another day, despite his own raging need to climax. A need that was building and building, consuming him, but he’d never been more determined to brand himself into another being. And he would. Until every cell she possessed wept with knowledge of him, unable to deny him in any way.
That way, she would never forget that she belonged to him, never forget what he would do to her if she scared him again. Not that this would be much of a deterrent. Hell, he was giving her a reason to get her ass kicked every goddamn day. Almost die, and she’d get the best sex of her life. No damn ego check required, thank you.
He just…he didn’t want this moment to end. He needed this. Needed her.
Keeping him at a distance wasn’t an option. Yeah, he’d known how she would react when she found out she had burned him. And yeah, he’d confessed only when she’d been unable to kick up much of a fit about it. Hello. He was smart. But like he’d told her, charring him over an open flame had been an accident. What he hadn’t told her, but something they would cover later? It had been an accident he’d incited.
She’d been dying, gasping that final breath. He’d seen enough people die to know when the Grim Reaper would be called. And he’d known Lucien would soon be called. Lucien would have heeded the summons, too, no m
atter how hotly Strider protested. He would have taken Kaia’s soul to the afterlife, as his demon, Death, required. Knowing that was about to happen, Strider had fallen straight into bat-shit crazy land and pulled a Gideon.
He’d married his woman.
He’d recalled how Gideon had raved about slicing himself, then slicing Scarlet and combining their blood. The old-school way to get hitched. The action had bound their lives, their souls, and Gideon’s strength had become Scarlet’s. So Strider had done it. Sliced himself and then Kaia. The moment the blade had sunk into the sensitive flesh between her breasts, she had erupted, thrashing, the fires starting all over again.
A little of his skin had melted—like, the top half of his body—but that had been a small price to pay for her life. He’d already been her consort, but he’d added a little…spice to the relationship. Made them equals. Partners. And gods, the knowledge just about felled him.
Mine, he thought now. My wife. Always.
With every climax Kaia had, Defeat became a little more confident in his ability to tame her. A little more possessive of her. Like Strider, the bastard had realized she would never purposely hurt him, that winning her—something no other man had ever done—was one of the greatest victories of their existence.
Bastard was also pouring pleasure straight into Strider’s veins and it was almost more than he could bear.
“Strider,” Kaia moaned, her sweet, curvy ass wiggling as he once again slowed his thrusts. “Please.”
The snow continued to fall, an exquisite storm he saw but didn’t feel. His woman was too hot. A heat he welcomed, adored, craved…hadn’t known he needed. Heat now represented Kaia, pleasure and satisfaction. A potent combination. He’d probably sport an erection all through the summer.
“Have you learned your lesson?” The words were practically ripped from his throat, his need causing his voice box to constrict.
“Yes.”
Leaning down, he pressed his chest into her searing back, the ridges of her spine creating the most delicious friction against his flesh. She murmured her approval. But much as he, too, fancied this new, deeper contact, he didn’t stay that way. He wound his arms around her and lifted them both so that they were on their knees, hers inside of his.