My Darkest Passion (30 page)

He found he did not have words to give her that wouldn’t be an insult to them both. He took her hand in his and brought her fingers to his mouth for a kiss. “Brave woman.”

“I’m not holding back just because six weeks from now my heart might get mangled. I won’t live that way.” She lay back, staring at the ceiling. “So, fuck the future, Harsh. When I’m old and gray, I won’t say too bad I never risked everything for the finest person I know.” She turned her head back to his. “If we crash and burn, well okay.”

He drew her close, holding tight. “All right then. Fuck the future, Addison, but I’ll hope for a soft landing.”

“Now you’re talking, Gorgeous.” She tucked herself against him, partially draping herself over him.

She was right. No being safe with this. He wanted more. More of the way her breasts fit in his palm, more of that sound she made when he found the right place. More of the way she touched him like she thought he was unbelievably hot. Her exact words, at one point.

She scooted over and kissed his nipples and made that sound again, and that, too, imprinted on his bones.

She brushed just the tips of her fingers over his cheek, and, yes, he felt the power in her, and liked it. A lot. “Come here,” he murmured. He set his hand on her stomach and she brushed back her blue-tipped hair and singed him with a slow, hungry smile. Her eyes were their normal hazel color. Very pretty eyes. Facing her, he stroked her from her shoulder to her thigh.

“What?” She pressed a hand to his chest and then slid her hands down to his stomach. She really was aroused by him. She wasn’t shy about sharing that with him, and he did, very much, like her nipple ring. Who would have thought he’d like it that much? He slid a hand to her belly before he settled on cupping her breast in his palm.

“Such smooth skin. Soft.” Barely tanned at all, though there was a faint bikini line. “But muscle underneath.” He dipped his head and licked, and that got a low sound of appreciation from her. Her fingers curled around the back of his head and into his hair in an invitation for more, a surrender of her body to pleasure that stole through him, too.

He lifted his head an inch or so, his tongue flicked once over her pierced nipple. He loved the way the metal felt against his tongue, and that he could tug gently and get a groan from her. Again. Nice. So nice. “You’re more sensitive, yes?” She nodded and he brushed the tip of his finger over her nipple, making sure he made contact with the metal piercing.

“Do that again.”

He had a moment when he forgot to think about anything but how amazingly arousing it was to have his hand on her breast. Her naked breast. “Such a sleek body,” he whispered, right over her other nipple. “Beautiful breasts.” He kissed her there, and then lifted his head again. “If I beg, will you get the other one done?”

She pried her eyes open. They glinted icy blue, and there was hunger there that deepened when he moved his fingers over her. “Yes. If you beg.”

He adored this immersion in her, and the shape and curves of her. “I’m begging you, warlord. Please. A matched set so your other nipple” —he flicked his tongue over her— “doesn’t feel so lonely and unadorned.”

“That doesn’t sound like begging.”

“Think of what it would be like for you if you had a matched set. Twice the sensation.”

She hooked a leg around his hips and arched toward him.

“I could pierce it for you,” he said. “No charge for my medical services.”

“Dr. Marit, you make me crazy.”

“Good,” he whispered, and he could hardly believe the way his body responded to having her in his arms. In a louder voice, he said, “Pick out something you like, I’ll take care of the rest.” He took her pierced nipple in his mouth and tongued the ring, while he slid his other hand down her stomach and around to her hips.

She reared back and put her hands on either side of his head, lifting so she could look him in the face. “If I get hardware, then you should, too.”

He found slick, damp heat between her legs. He was deliciously hard with all that meant for a satisfying physical experience to come. “Where?”

“I don’t know.” She swept a finger along the outside of his eye. “You’re such a stick in the mud for a polyamorous bisexual demon mage doctor.”

“Stick in the mud?” He couldn’t keep a straight face. “You won’t think that when I’m inside you again.” He didn’t have to hide anything from her. She knew he was a genetic hybrid, she knew about his past with Fen and Iskander, and she knew about his other magic. The sheer relief of not having to worry about what might happen if he slipped up made his smile deepen.

“Cock piercing?”

“Not a chance.”

“Earring?”

“Anything for you. You know that.” His fingers delved, and she parted her legs to give him better access.

“Really? God, Harsh, that feels good.”

“What about this?”

“Even better.”

He slid down her body, trailing kisses and tiny nips. No breaking skin. Not yet. He set himself to making her come. Hard. He succeeded spectacularly, and her timing was perfect; she opened to him in the seconds before she peaked, and it was like touching divinity, the way she gave herself up to orgasm. Mixed up in his reaction to her as the warlord to whom he’d sworn fealty, was his body’s drive to mate with a human woman.

“Good. That’s good.” She drew him up the mattress and did her own exploration of him with her hands and mouth. Mid-caress of his torso, she lifted her head. “You don’t have to.”

He didn’t understand right away, and then did. He’d spent so many years suppressing his other magic that, as he recovered from the attack, he was reconstructing walls without thinking about it. “Habit,” he said. He didn’t want to do that any more. Hiding part of himself. “A very bad habit.”

“It’s okay.”

He let the psychic connection between them go two-way and wide open. They dropped into shared physical and psychic reactions, and she accepted everything, all that he was now, and what had happened in his life to bring him here. Her magic drew him in—so deep, and with that undeniable
click
that went along with her warlord status. She was honorable and there was just no doubt in his mind that she would go far, that she would create a stable environment for any demon who swore loyalty to her. Three dead mages testified to her quick thinking and judgment under pressure.

His perceptions expanded, supplemented by her power, amping him higher than he would have thought possible. He didn’t want to let that go. Passion shivered between them. He could reach out and touch it, and the moment he did, his other magic was there, omega to the alpha of their bond.

She drew in a sharp breath, and her eyes snapped open. “That is fucking hot.”

“Yes. Yes, it is.” For the first time, he wondered what he could do with that magic. The kin were attracted to that opposite magic. Craved it. That affinity for the magekind had led to a great many of the current problems between their kind, as well as to bonds that were near unshakeable. He took his time watching the rise and fall of her naked breasts. They were naked, the both of them. Warlord and sworn kin. Lovers. They were going to have sex again, and he was going to find out how much she was going to blow his mind. “So pretty.”

“Don’t stop.”

“Not if my life depended on it.” He ended up poised over her, his hands around her wrists because it was an amusing irony, his position of physical dominance over her. She allowed him to hold her down. His fingers tightened on her, trapping her in place, and she shuddered. But it was not, definitely not, more appreciation of his skills. He let go of her. “What?”

Images flashed through from her, appalling memories of what Bejar had done to her in order to carry out Infante’s orders; immobilizing her, overpowering her physically and taking control of her will.

“Addison. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

But she grabbed his wrists and stopped him from rolling away. Her breath shook. “Don’t. I just need a minute.”

“I wish I’d killed Infante myself.”

“It’s part of me,” she said. “Bejar. What Infante made him do. There’s no making it go away, that’s just a fact.” She leaned in and kissed him, and it was slow and sweet, and they kissed with passion, her mouth soft and then more insistent, and before long everything just clicked again. That damned piercing made him hot, and he could hardly stop thinking about doing the other one.

“If it turns you on that much, then okay.”

“As soon as possible.” He growled, a sound that vibrated in his chest, as he adjusted himself over her. She let out a soft mew and lifted both her thighs, and he slid inside her, and that was him groaning. So warm and soft around him. One more thrust, and he was at the edge of orgasm. He shuddered with it, and she lifted her knees higher, and her arms went tight around his shoulders.

Her mouth went to his ear, and she licked once and whispered, “Yes. You. I need this with you. You make everything better.”

Their lovemaking this time was as fierce and strong as she was. She turned her head to one side, giving him the side of her throat, and he came in and nipped, sharper teeth, yes, and that was something he didn’t think would make him think of taking this beyond what he should. But it did. With her, he could. He could take his true form and if he lost his control over his other magic, well, she already knew that about him.

He extended his freshly nicked wrist, and while she licked the blood from his wrist, he saw more of what she’d endured with Bejar, and how she’d been forever changed, the things that triggered her because of that. Then, she wrapped all that away, and she gave him a wicked, wicked grin and she fucked him, made love to him, adored their bodies.

Her fingers dug into him and she met his thrusts. The taste of her blood sang in him, and while he dealt with the shock of that, of how good that felt, she gave him a push, her palms on his shoulders. When he was on his back, she straddled him, he slid his hands down her body, molding his palms and fingers to her shape, feeling the flex of muscle and sinew as she rocked on him.

Missionary was good, too, really good, so good, and by the end, he was frantic to come, ready for it, screaming for it, and it was almost a miracle that he wasn’t too selfish in that delirious finish to made sure she came again. Then again, didn’t he owe his warlord that?

She held him close afterward, and there was no reason at all for him to guard himself or hold back or do anything but hold her, too. Sooner than he would have liked, she broke through to alertness. Half a second later, he understood why she’d come out of her quasi-sleep. One of her sworn kin was headed this way, moving quickly.

Addison, alert now, remained sprawled on her stomach, naked and a feast for anyone who appreciated female form, which he did. Her eyes were open and watching the door. She had her weight on her forearms, lifted up just enough that he had a distracting view of her breasts when he looked. Her blue-tipped hair was mussed. His reaction was pure satisfied, chest-beating male. A goddess warlord, well fucked by him, and him well fucked by her. She was holding enough power to melt the door if she wanted to, and that just made her sexier.

She spoke softly. “Get dressed.”

The imperative flowed through him, working on his bond to her. On the street outside, someone shouted. Just once. He snatched up their clothes, tossed hers at the bed, and didn’t bother with underwear. While he zipped his jeans, someone tapped on the door. Human, he thought. They would be safe. There was little a vanilla could do to harm one of the kin. And yet all the instincts set off by his oath to her rose up. He yanked on his shirt, and twisted her direction to whisper, “I’ll get it.”

He glanced over his shoulder to the bed before he put a hand on the door knob. Addison was on her knees in jeans and bra, no shirt yet, shoving the rest of their things into one of the duffles. She’d made the right decision if they had to bug out fast. She slammed on a tee-shirt and in practically the same motion, slung the now overstuffed duffle across her back and shoved her feet into her shoes. She nodded. “Ready.”

He opened the door to hotel security. In a dump like this, that meant a Rent-A-Cop type. He was young, but his gut bulged over his belt. Most of his right arm was out of sight. He held a taser in his left. Beads of sweat rimmed his upper lip. His gaze flicked to Addison, and he blinked several times. The man’s head bobbed back, as if it were too heavy for his neck.

Harsh concentrated, narrowing his focus to the human. The man’s heartbeat was too fast, his eyes were nothing but pupil. Sweat beaded along his forehead and his upper lip. But he got nothing from the man. Nothing but vanilla human. Given the circumstances, there was only one reason a human would be so obviously not in control of himself. All the signs of an indwell against the subject’s will.

Shit.

“What’s wrong?” Addison moved closer.

Harsh blocked the doorway. He wasn’t a diplomat anymore, and he did not need to be polite to anyone. His duty was to protect the warlord to whom he was sworn. He opened himself to the other demons, casting out and finding Tau first, then the others, letting them know they were required. Now. He focused on the human. “Is there a problem?”

“Report of a disturbance.”

“Are you okay?” Addison asked. More shouts rang from the street. With the door open, the noise got louder fast. His sense of Addison’s sworn demons flared hot. They were engaged out there. About fucking time.

“An indwell,” he replied.

“Mageheld, then?”

“Yes.”

The guard took a step back. The motion gave him the clearance to bring his right arm up. He gripped an axe in that hand, but the taser in his left was the bigger threat. Harsh grabbed the man’s right wrist, moved away from the taser so his front was to the human’s back, while he smashed down on the guard’s left arm.

An electric buzz rattled him, but the taser wasn’t in contact with any flesh. The guard had missed him, but with the human’s strength fueled by the demon in control of his will, he was stronger and faster than most humans. At the same time, Addison strode forward. Her arm came up and out. The heel of her palm thudded against the human’s hairline. His head snapped back, and then his body went limp. She stepped over the unconscious man. “Let’s go.”