No, it was a test of his strength.
And he wouldn’t falter.
The feelings he had for Cassandra were just lust, fuelled by how long he had gone without a woman’s touch. It was infatuation. Nothing more. In time, it would pass. She would move on and he would return home.
“I can see the battle in you, Daimon,” she whispered and canted her head to her left. “Why fight this? Why fight me? This attraction between us isn’t going anywhere. Just surrender to it.”
He stood his ground.
“I told you before, Cassandra. I’m not interested. You’re attractive, I’ll admit that, but this… between us… this isn’t going to happen.”
He turned his back on her.
“I meant what I said. My heart belongs to another.”
“I don’t want your heart,” she whispered.
And it hit him.
That was the problem.
She didn’t really want him. She wanted his body. He was just convenient. Attractive. Feelings didn’t come into it for her.
She just wanted something fast and fun to pass the time.
He wanted something else.
Something more.
Something he had no right desiring.
A cold hollow feeling opened in his chest.
He wanted her.
All of her. Nothing held back.
Not just for now.
The darker side of his blood snarled at the thought of giving her up.
He shoved his fingers through his wet hair.
What was she doing to him? He had been fine before she had come along, his heart constant and his mind clear, his focus on his mission and on returning to the Underworld.
He closed his eyes, shutting the world out.
He hadn’t been fine.
He could see it now that Cass had opened his eyes. He had been lying to himself for centuries, slowly falling apart and trying to hold himself together by pretending being loyal to Penelope was everything to him, telling himself that he was noble for remaining faithful to her, and it was what he wanted.
When it wasn’t.
He wanted more than this hollow existence, more than drifting through the years alone, lying to himself to stop him from crashing and burning. He wanted to feel again, wanted what others had, yearned for it with a ferocity that shook him and had him wavering on the edge, on the verge of doing something foolish.
Like surrendering to Cass even when he knew it would only end badly for him.
He wanted her.
She wanted him.
It didn’t have to be complicated.
All he had to do was turn and she would see his fight was over, that he couldn’t go on resisting her. All he had to do was let her take the reins.
He turned to do just that, his pulse hammering in his throat.
And cursed.
She was gone.
Chapter 9
Cass stomped around her room in a very unladylike manner, uncaring of whether anyone saw her. Her skin felt too tight, flushed hotly whenever she thought about Daimon and how delectable he had looked in that pool, almost naked. Heat rolled through her veins, stoking her temperature as she ran her fingers over her wrist, recalling how firm his skin had felt against hers, how cool he had been to the touch.
She shivered as she let that moment play out again, loving the way his eyes had changed, the flare of passion she had ignited in him warming them as they had tracked her fingers.
For a moment, she had felt as if she had been getting somewhere with him, and then he had shut her down with his ridiculous talk of hearts.
But she had seen the interest in his eyes, the need that she had stirred when she had touched him and he hadn’t hurt her. She had felt the hunger in him.
The desire.
Gods, she wanted to unleash that side of him. She wanted to know the man he was holding back. She wanted to break down his barriers again and this time not relent until he had surrendered to her.
Why couldn’t he just give her what she wanted from him?
He just had to keep resisting her.
It was frustrating to say the least.
She was used to getting what she wanted, at least where her coven wasn’t concerned. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d had to fight this hard for something, but fight she would. Daimon didn’t stand a chance against her. The more he resisted her, the stronger her determination to crack the wall of ice surrounding him became.
She reminded herself that she didn’t want his heart.
This thing between her and Daimon was purely physical.
She kept telling herself that as she rifled through her things, trying to find something to wear, something that would fit her mood.
She paused and stared at the mound of black clothes on top of the dresser before her as a feeling crept up on her, sneaking in while she struggled to convince herself that Daimon was nothing more than a fling to her, a nice way to pass the time.
Cass struggled to shake it off. There was no room in her life for the sort of thing part of her clearly foolishly desired. It was impossible. Ridiculous. Dangerous.
She balled her hands into fists in her clothes and stared hard at them, trying to shut down the rebellious feeling.
She really didn’t want his heart.
She couldn’t afford to fall for anyone.
Yet there was something about the stoic, silent Daimon that drew her to him, had her finding it difficult to keep her distance from him. His eyes shimmered with pain at times, fathomless and dreadful, and she wanted to know the source of it.
He wasn’t helping her keep her distance either.
He was making himself a challenge, and Cass had always risen to a challenge.
So far, all she had learned was his heart apparently belonged to another, something Cal had shrugged off and said he knew nothing about when Cass had subtly dropped it into a conversation, and that the cold aura Daimon projected was about more than the manifestation of his power.
Her hand stopped on a dress in the middle of the pile, and she lifted it before her. It was sexy, sheer down the sides, perfect for drawing the eye of an eligible male.
Especially if she wore it with no underwear.
A hot flush tripped through her when she recalled how Daimon had reacted a few weeks ago in the garden here, when she had been chasing after him and had lifted her dress because it had been slowing her down.
How his eyes had burned with hunger when he had stared at the exposed curve of her hip and realised she hadn’t been wearing any panties.
Cass closed her eyes and pictured that moment, let it build in her mind again as she feathered her fingers down her neck. She tweaked the scene a little, had him take a step towards her and close the distance, gasped as she imagined him reaching out and fisting her dress in his hands.
Tugging her towards him.
She lowered her hand to her breast, licked her lips and tilted her head back as he kissed down her throat, as he pulled her dress up and planted his strong hands against her bare backside.
Pulled her against him.
A moan threatened to slip from her lips.
She held it back, her breath coming faster as imaginary Daimon behaved far more nicely than his real-life counterpart, surrendering to the attraction that burned between them.
Her fingers slipped from her breast, palm skimming over her stomach, that liquid fire Daimon had ignited in her veins in Hong Kong roaring back into an inferno as she pictured him in those tiny shorts, delectable body spotted with water, light shimmering across hard muscles made for fingers to explore.
To tease.
Cass rolled her hips forwards as her hand reached them, screwed her face up when pleasure arced through her and the fantasy built in her mind.
Daimon squeezed her backside, dropped his lips to her breasts to tease them with a skilled cool tongue before falling to his knees before her.
She arched forwards, her head falling back as his mouth covered her, t
hat wicked tongue sending her out of her mind as it stroked between her thighs.
Oh gods.
She sank her teeth into her lower lip and surrendered to the fantasy, her heart pounding and blood rushing as pleasure built inside her.
Close. She was close.
Gods she needed this, had to take the edge off somehow.
Release eluded her though and frustration began to replace pleasure as she sought it.
She clung to the fantasy, desperate now, her breaths coming faster as she stretched for that one flick of her fingers that would send her over the edge.
It refused to come.
Damn it.
A shiver bolted through her when she sensed Daimon return, smelled snow and spice in the cool morning air.
Release hit her like a wrecking ball, had her legs wobbling beneath her and her hand flying to cover her mouth as she cried into it.
Oh sweet gods.
She fumbled for the dresser with her other hand, clutched it and leaned into it for support as wave after wave of bliss swept through her.
Cass sagged forwards, her hand dropping from her mouth.
Unsure she would ever recover.
“You look like shit,” Cal said.
Cass tensed and turned, her heart shooting into her mouth as panic gripped her and her cheeks burned, the thought she had just been caught pleasuring herself wreaking havoc on her and causing a whirlwind of lame excuses to fill her mind.
Only the sliding white door of the room was closed. He wasn’t talking to her.
She crept to the panels that formed the wall of the room near the covered walkway, eased the one that acted as a door back a little and peered out through the gap.
Daimon stood on the wooden walkway of the wing opposite her, bathed in early morning light. She shivered, achy again as she studied him. She cursed him. What was it about him that had her on fire with just a glance at him?
Cal approached him from her right, the direction of the main room of the house. Daimon shrugged, rolling toned shoulders beneath his tight long-sleeve turtleneck sweater. She wanted to peel that off him. She shook that rogue thought away.
“Tired,” he muttered and stifled a yawn.
“Still can’t sleep?” Concern filled Cal’s blue eyes.
Daimon was having trouble sleeping? She could help him with that if he let her, and she wasn’t even talking about wearing him out with sex.
Although, that was far more appealing than using a spell on him.
Daimon shook his head and ran a hand down his mouth. “I need to unwind or something.”
Cass could help him with that too.
He had certainly helped her unwind just now.
She couldn’t imagine how he would react if she told him he had starred in a wicked fantasy that had given her one hell of a memorable release.
Her cheeks heated again.
She huffed, irritated by the reaction. She was a grown woman and there was absolutely zero reason for her to feel ashamed of what she had done.
“Where is everyone?” His icy blue eyes scanned the garden and she ducked back behind the panel as they neared her, not wanting him to see her.
She swore his gaze lingered in her direction, that she could feel him staring straight through the panels of the room at her.
She looked down at herself.
Just how good was their sense of smell?
Her face heated again.
Could he smell her, what she had done?
The thought he might be aware of it had a hot achy shiver rolling through her and her nipples beaded, her breasts yearning for his touch. She huffed and ignored her rebellious body, trying to regain control of herself. She was damned if she was going to let Daimon see how flustered he had gotten her.
“Ares took Megan back to get some rest. Keras just left. Marek took Caterina to see her brother.” Cal hesitated. “Aiko is… she went out with some friends for the day. I think she needed the pick me up today. Valen and Eva are keeping an eye on her from a distance.”
“I thought the place seemed quiet.”
“Me and Mari just got done with the bath,” Cal said and Cass peered at them again, tempted to scowl at him.
She reminded herself that Mari was a grown woman. It was still hard to accept that at times. Mari would always be the little girl she adored, had watched growing up and had been sad when she had been forced to keep her distance so she wouldn’t notice that Cass didn’t age.
Although, Mari had had a wonderful idea.
A bath did sound good.
“You should have one. Might help you relax and sleep.” Cal shrugged, his shoulders hiking beneath his black T-shirt. “Just an idea.”
“It’s a good one. Long baths are always nice.” Daimon smiled at his younger brother.
A genuine one.
He was right. Long baths were always nice.
But long baths with another were even better.
She huffed as she looked back at her clothes and hit a snag.
She didn’t have a bathing suit with her.
Cass shrugged that off. Cal would be occupied with Mari for some time, and Aiko was out of the house for the morning at the very least. The only one liable to see her was the only one she wanted to see her.
She had some decency though.
She plucked a black lace bra and matching panties from her pile of clothing and slipped them on, following it with an onyx satin robe. She hurried from the room. Not a sprint. Sprinting wasn’t very ladylike.
But she did make it to the bathing area in record time, beating Daimon there.
She stopped on the damp tiles that separated the showers on her left from the stone pool on her right. It was large, almost a small swimming pool, and the view from it was breathtaking. Her gaze traversed the sweeping lines that had been raked into the pale gravel of the zen garden to swirl around rocks and pockets of greenery, danced over the delicately clipped topiary, to the large maple tree that was turning red, and then the crisp blue sky beyond.
Steam curled from the surface of the water, tempting her to slip into it to chase away the chill of the autumn morning.
She shed her robe, placing it on one of the dry stools at the side of the bathing area, and then twisted her black hair into a knot at the back of her head, securing it with a pin she formed with a spell. She washed off, hurrying through the process, and then stepped into the water.
It was hot, reminded her of the spring bath the older witches had been allowed to enjoy at the coven. Only here, she wasn’t expected to get all warmed up in the bath and then do something ridiculous like jumping into the snow or icy water.
Here, all she had to do was relax.
She stepped down from the submerged step that ran along the width of the pool, acting as a seat, and sank into the water. She ended up kneeling near the showers and staring out at the zen garden as the sun rose higher. It touched the maple first, chasing the shadow down it and brightening the vivid colour of its leaves.
Had reached the stone lantern at the far end of the zen garden when she realised she wasn’t alone.
She looked over her shoulder at Daimon where he stood at the end of the corridor that led to the main room, clutching a white towel in front of him.
Banked heat burned in his ice-blue eyes, had another achy shiver tripping through her.
“What are you doing?” he growled.
“Bathing.” She swished her hands through the water as she turned to face him. “I thought that was obvious?”
Heat chased over her skin, sending waves of tingles down her arms and spine, as she soaked in the glorious sight of him in his tiny shorts.
And decided the sight of Daimon nearly naked should be illegal.
All that immaculate bare flesh stretched taut over honed muscles. It was just too much.
She ignored the way he growled at her like a rabid animal and took her time, drinking her fill of him, tracing her gaze over the flat slabs of his pectorals and down the valley be
tween them, to the start of his stomach muscles. They flexed as her eyes landed on them, and she bit back a moan. Wicked god. He was doing it on purpose, taunting her with what she wanted to touch. Looking at him wasn’t enough. She wanted to explore him with her fingers.
Wanted to trace the valley between his eight pack and circle his navel.
Just as that ink did.
She frowned. Ink.
How had she missed that last night?
The tribal sun was all sharp spikes a few shades darker than his skin, but as she stared at it, she swore it shifted, darkening a shade more towards black and those straight lines gaining a subtle wave.
Maybe it had been too dark at the pool for her to see it.
Or maybe she had been too swept up in the glorious sight of him to notice the small things.
Now, she couldn’t take her eyes off it.
It was definitely changing. Softening.
Like his mood?
She dragged her eyes away from the ink, wanting to see if that was the case.
His blue eyes were darker than she had ever seen them, flecked with diamonds, fixed not on her face but on her body.
“Is that your favour mark?” She waggled a finger towards his stomach.
His eyes shot up to lock with hers and his white eyebrows knitted hard above them as his irises went from blue to white.
And the lines of his favour mark went from subtle waves to jagged spikes.
It definitely reflected his mood.
“Get out. It’s my turn to bathe.” His fingers tightened in the towel, causing a ripple effect. Muscles tensed in a wave, a symphony that delighted her.
Cass swept her arm out above the water. “The bath is big enough for the both of us.”
His eyes narrowed in a way that said he didn’t believe it was.
She murmured softly, “Unless you’re scared of bathing with a woman? I could get out.”
She slowly stood, the water sluicing down her body, dragging his eyes down from her face.
He stared at her.
Really stared.
Passion flared in his eyes again, lighting them with sparks of white and silver.
Cass trembled as goosebumps erupted across her skin, savouring the feel of his gaze on her as he took her in.
Daimon: Guardians of Hades Series Book 6 Page 9
