She needed him naked and inside her.
Needed him to quench this fire he had ignited in her.
Calindria lost herself to sensation, a slave to the hunger running through her, to the instincts that hijacked control and had her dropping one hand to the front of his leathers. He groaned and rocked against her palm as she cupped him, ripping a moan from her lips. She wanted this, needed him, and she was going to have him.
He stilled and she sensed a change in him, a warning bell ringing in her mind as he tried to stop kissing her. She didn’t let him. They had started this and they were going to finish it. She shifted her hand from his trousers to the side of her shorts, her fingers trembling as she untied the lacing on one side and then the other, heart racing as she let the material fall away from her.
Thanatos was too busy kissing her again to notice what she was doing.
But gods, he definitely noticed it when she seized his hand and brought it to her mound.
He went deathly still, the growl that erupted from his lips echoing around the cavern and sending a thousand tingles cascading through her.
She froze too as he gathered himself, as he moved his hand and slipped his fingers between her folds, teasing her slick flesh. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she moaned into his mouth, couldn’t hold it back as he explored her. Sweet gods. She bit her lip, sinking her teeth into it but not feeling the pain as pleasure rolled through her, slowly built inside her with each stroke of his fingers.
Her thoughts blurred into nothing, sensation replacing them, a yearning to find the release his touch promised and a constant stretch for that bliss he held just beyond her reach.
She rocked against his hand, unable to stop herself from moving, seeking that final push she needed.
Her eyes shot wide open as he pressed her knees further apart, as he pulled her closer and then replaced his fingers with something else. She shivered and moaned as he stroked the blunt head of his length down her, as he gripped her backside and lifted her.
As he pressed inside her.
She cried out as he filled her in one possessive, claiming thrust.
Her breath caught in her throat, the pain intense as he stretched her, but it was swift to subside as he clutched her and began moving her up and down his shaft, pumping her hard as he kissed her. Dominating her.
“Oh gods.” Those words burst from her lips, torn from her as he plunged deeper, as he took all of her, leaving no part of her untouched.
Intense pleasure blasted through her with each meeting of their bodies, skittering over her flesh, taking her out of her mind. He groaned and thrust deeper, possessing her, and she shivered and writhed, dug her fingers into his thick hair and clung to him, lost to sensation.
He pulled her closer still, plastered her chest to his and moved her faster. She moaned and moved on him, couldn’t stop herself from joining in as she reached for release, swore she could almost touch it.
It struck her out of nowhere, ripping a cry from her throat as it detonated inside her, as heat and tingles rushed through her and her body jerked, every inch of her quivering and throbbing. She couldn’t breathe as the intensity of it rocked her, as her mind blanked and she drifted in a haze as she sank back into the seat of the reclining chair.
That haze abruptly lifted as Thanatos pulled out of her and stood.
He stormed away from her.
She opened her eyes and stared at him as he paced, tucking his still-hard length away in his leather pants. Cold slowly swept over her, stealing away the warmth of her release as she realised he had given her pleasure but had taken none for himself. He cast her a black look, one that held a note of accusation and anger, and she shrank back as he bared his teeth at her and growled, an icy chill swift to fill her. What had she done wrong?
She must have done something to displease him.
There was only one thing she could think of as she stared at him, reeling from the look he had given her and how he held himself at a distance.
He had lied to her.
He had wanted that other female he had chased after but hadn’t been able to catch her, and so he had returned to Calindria unsatisfied and had decided to lie to her so he could satisfy himself with her instead.
Only she hadn’t been good enough for him.
She fumbled with her shorts, pulling them back on and tying the lacing, her hands shaking even though she told herself she didn’t care what Thanatos had done. She didn’t care about him at all. Her heart called her a liar. She bared fangs at it and locked it away in a cage, determined to never feel a thing for the god of death again. She’d had her taste of him and it had been bitter, just as she had expected.
She had been a fool to believe that things between them would be anything but painful.
Well, she was done with him. She was done with feeling anything where he was concerned. He could run off after that bitch for all she cared.
She stood and looked at Thanatos, tears burning the backs of her eyes. Damn him. Maybe he was right about some things.
Life was better when you were alone.
He looked across at her, his eyes meeting hers.
No one could hurt you then.
A wall of brambles and vines shot up between them, and in the split-second before they hid him from view, she saw his eyes widen in horror and sensed his fear.
Calindria turned on her heel and stormed away from him.
Chapter 17
Thanatos deserved the cold shoulder, along with the several instances of Calindria putting up walls of black vines to block his path to her. He hacked his way through another one she had constructed in a tunnel, this one thicker than the last, his senses trained on her and desperation mounting inside him as she began to reach the edge of them, where everything grew hazy thanks to this cursed realm.
He ripped at the vines with his bare hand and flinched as thorns grew wherever he touched, biting into his palm. Their master had every right to be furious with him after what he had done, and gods, he was angry with himself too, wished he hadn’t reacted the way he had, but the feel of her climax had hurled him deep into dark memories and he hadn’t been able to stop himself from pushing away from her.
“Bastard,” he muttered to himself and gripped his sword in both hands, hacking at another thick mass of vines.
It wasn’t a strong enough word for him.
He had thought he could handle it, that it had been long enough since the demigoddess had held him captive that he would have gotten over it. He had been wrong. No. Not entirely. It had been good, and he had been enjoying it, and gods, the fact that Calindria had given herself to him, had chosen him as the one to take her flower, had humbled him.
And also made him feel like a bastard.
In the throes of his passion, he hadn’t exactly been gentle with her.
But then, she hadn’t been gentle with him either. He was still healing the grooves she had scored on his shoulders and nape with her nails.
He broke his way through the wall of black vines and brambles and squeezed through the gap, flinching again as they snagged his wings and tore at his skin. He deserved this pain. He had been wrong after all.
He had been wrong to take her like that, when he should have been gentle with her, should have reined in his need enough to think clearly and realise she would be untouched.
“If Hades kills me, then I deserve it.” Although he wasn’t sure he would live to make it back to Hades for judgement of his sins.