The Darkest Passion
Page 66

When he faced her this next time, his expression was lit with interest. “Why did you do that?”
“Perhaps you didn’t hear me when I said I wanted you.”
“And you thought slapping me would win me over?”
“You’re still here, aren’t you?”
He studied her before moving his gaze across the bar. “So where do you want me?”
“Bathroom.” No witnesses. Not for what she had planned. “And by the way. I don’t want to wed you and I don’t want your babies. We’re gonna have sex, and you’re gonna like it.”
“Forceful little thing, aren’t you?”
“You have no idea. So we doing this or not?”
Those lush lips twitched. “Let me get this straight. We’re going to the bathroom, and I’m going to fuck you, and you don’t even care to know my name?”
“I’d actually prefer it if you’d keep your stupid mouth closed.” Oops. Her hatred was slipping out.
“Well, well. You might just be my soul mate.” He was on his feet a second later, his chair skidding over the sticky floor. He didn’t say another word as he kicked into motion, arm snaking around her waist and pulling her along with him.
There was a woman in the bathroom, washing her hands, and Galen pushed her out without preamble.
“Hey,” the girl cried in irritation. She softened as her gaze raked him. “Hey.” Sultry now.
“Stay out or die,” he told her flatly. And then he slammed the door closed and whipped around to face Legion.
She trembled, she just couldn’t help herself. There was so much heat in his eyes she was momentarily shocked stupid. It was what she’d wanted from Aeron. What she might never get.
One step, two, he approached her. She backed away. Attack now. Kill him. But she didn’t.
“Scared?” he asked silkily. “You should be.”
She raised her chin, looked behind her—and saw the counter and the mirror. Her reflection stunned her. The fall of golden hair, just begging for a man’s hands. The wide, dark eyes so filled with longing.
Longing? She wanted him? Him? How could she want Hope? He was her enemy. He was Aeron’s enemy.
Strong hands banded around her waist and hefted her up. She gasped as she returned her focus to him. He was already working the button of her jeans. That button gave easily and then he was jerking them off her legs.
He chuckled. “No panties. You are eager for me.”
His amusement irritated her—even as it spiced her desire up another notch. That wasn’t because of him, she told herself. She refused to believe so. She’d wanted to have sex; that was one of the reasons she’d bargained for this body. She’d expected it to be with Aeron, though.
Yet he might never want her that way. Not really.
“Who said I was eager for you? You’re beautiful, yeah, but you’re just a substitute for someone else.” Truth. A truth she liked. She could use him. Have the sex she wanted and then kill him.
Galen’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “Is that right?”
“There you go, talking again. I thought I told you how much I hated that.”
“You’re the one who better watch her mouth.” With a growl, he ripped off her shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra, either. He didn’t ask for permission, but leaned forward and sucked a nipple into his mouth. A mouth that was hot as fire and had her moaning. In pleasure.
This was…wonderful.
Yes. Yes, she’d have the sex she wanted. It would distract him so that she could more easily go in for the kill. That was all the rationale she needed to spread her legs and jerk him into her. His pants-clad erection hit her sweet spot, and she cried out.
Wonderful was not the word to describe that. Perfection was. How much better would it have been with Aeron, then? Aeron. She didn’t want to think about him right now. She only wanted to feel.
“More,” she found herself commanding. She arched into him, rubbing herself against him. Her skin was sensitized and only growing more so. There was an ache inside her, a heat like the one she’d seen in his eyes. Both were building.
“Don’t even want foreplay?” Galen worked at his pants, freeing his erection. It was big. So deliciously big. Demons often had sex while in hell—with each other, the damned souls—so she knew big was preferred and small ridiculed.
“What’s foreplay?” Truly. She had no clue.
He chuckled again. “I like you, female. I really do.” He tried to kiss her, but she turned her head. He followed the movement, and she turned her head again.
“No kissing,” she rasped. She wanted to, oh, did she want to, but kissing would kill him before she was finished with him. She looked like a human, yes, but her teeth were pure poison. She could taste it.
She settled her ankles on his lower back, digging in, forcing him to move against her. Mind…fogging…body…burning…
“Kiss me,” he commanded.
“No.”
“Kiss.”
“No!”
“Why not? Not like it’s anything special.”
“Cease…talking!” she growled.
His snarl was like a caress. “Fine. You want a quick fuck, that’s all you’ll get.” He gripped the base of his erection and aimed it between her legs, then he was thrusting forward, all the way inside her.
She cried out in pain, but the pain disappeared as quickly as it had sprouted, leaving only a feeling of utter possession. “More.” He stretched her, filled her up, and it was heady. No wonder all manner of beings did this so often.
“Virgin?” he gasped out, clearly shocked. Wonder of wonders, it appeared as if his expression was softening.
“None of your business. Finish.”
He bared his teeth at her, but in and out he pumped. The stretching and the fullness only increased, pushing her toward…something. Soon she was thrashing against him, desperate for that something, willing to kill everyone in this building if she didn’t get it.
“Hurry.”
“Gods, you feel good.”
She clawed at him, hurtling over…finally over…drifting, spinning, floating, seeing stars winking over her eyes. Every muscle in her body clamped down, let go, clamped down again. It was powerful, it was moving, but all too soon it faded. Leaving her strangely shattered.
Her eyelids flickered open. She was panting. Galen was still inside her, still moving in and out. Absolute pleasure consumed every inch of his features. He must be getting close to his end, as she had done.
And she couldn’t allow that, she thought. He didn’t deserve to feel like that. Even though he’d made her feel better than she ever had before. Even though sex was her new favorite game and she planned to have it as often as possible.
“Galen,” she said, and his shocked gaze met hers. A tremor moved through her, reigniting the fire in her blood. How odd. But there was no time to enjoy another round. “See you in hell.”
With that, she sank her teeth into his neck, clamping down as he roared. A roar born of pain rather than completion. He shoved at her, trying to rip her away, but she held tight, pumping her poison deep into his vein. Only when the last drop left her did she lift her head and smile at him. He’d gone pale, almost green.
“What did you…do to me?” His knees gave out and he sank to the floor.
Silent, she hopped to her feet and dressed. Her knees trembled the entire time. Part of her wanted to stay, to ease him, but she couldn’t forget who and what he was—not again. This had to be done. For Aeron. She owed him this much, at the very least.
“I planned to take you to my man and have him kill you, but this is better. Have a nice life,” she said, and then blew Galen a kiss. “Not that it’ll last much longer.”
AERON STARED over at Lysander. The threat of decapitation had been issued, the angel’s determination unwavering. “Olivia,” he said. He hadn’t moved from beside the bed. He and Wrath were both oddly calm. “Return home. Now. Please.”
“No. No.” She threw her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek into his back. The wet warmth of her tears scalded him. “Don’t do this. Please, don’t do this.”“You have caused her nothing but pain, demon,” Lysander gritted out. “You did not see her tortured at your enemy’s hand. I did. You didn’t beg her to return home to save herself the pain. I did. And why did she deny me? Because she’d made a promise to you. Because she wanted to say goodbye. Again, to you. I will not give you time to wheedle another promise from her. I will not give you another opportunity to make a mockery of my pact with you. This ends now. Today.” One moment his hands were empty, the next he clutched that sword of fire. A sword he twirled, sparks of flame crackling from it.
Not yet, Wrath cried. Not yet. We must kill Galen first.
“Lysander, no!” Olivia cried. Realizing she’d get nowhere with Aeron, she attempted to move in front of him. “Not the sword. Anything but the sword. I’m begging you.”
Reeling from the force of his guilt, Aeron pushed her back onto the bed and spread his wings to full length. He wanted this battle out of the room and away from Olivia. And there would be a battle. He wouldn’t simply lie down and die. Not yet, as his demon had reminded him. He had too much to do.
“You want me,” he told the warrior angel, “then come and get me.” With that, he launched himself out the window, breaking the glass with the force of his momentum before soaring high into the sky.
Along the way, he dropped his daggers, watching them thump harmlessly on the ground. Olivia loved Lysander. No matter what, even to save himself, Aeron wouldn’t kill the warrior. That would hurt Olivia, and Aeron vowed then and there never to do so again.
No matter the consequences.
Lysander was quick to follow. He knew because Olivia screamed, “No, Lysander. Don’t do this! Come back.”
He hated her worry, her despair. Later, if he still lived, he would soothe her. Give her anything she desired. He would also find a way to save Legion from Lucifer’s possession without having to touch her. He had to. He couldn’t give himself to any woman but Olivia. He had no illusions about that now.