He stalked her, all grace and danger. For a second, the tiniest of moments, she could only stare at him. The deadly beauty of him. It was too much. He was too close. His unblinking gaze, green edged with a silvery black, remained focused on her face.
Even so, she had to try. She bunched her muscles, but he was already on her, taking them both down to the porous ground. Then his mouth slammed down. Desperate, hard, forceful—Sam Kyllwood taking control, as only he could.
She moaned, need boiling the blood in her veins. Locking her hands in his hair, she kissed him back, taking everything he offered.
He kissed her deep, one hand around her neck, holding her in place. So much in one kiss. Promise and threat, hope and that ever present control.
Her tongue mated with his, and then because she was who she was, she bit his lip. Not gently. His blood tasted like power.
“You’re a brat.” He licked the wound clean, his hand sweeping beneath them to palm her butt and partially lift her off the sponge.
She panted at the friction, wanting to fight him but wanting him inside her even more. “I don’t want to make this easy for you,” she moaned against his mouth.
His bark of surprise erased her worry. “Easy? This has been next to impossible.” He rolled to the side, flipped her onto her belly, and smacked her ass. “That’s for making it so hard.”
She laughed. Humor and need and more than that, a lot more than that, rushed through her. Was this love? Or was it just the love she could have with him? She wiggled her butt. “Do that again.” He sucked in a breath and slammed his hand down again, sending searing heat right to her clit.
He chuckled and flipped her over again, covering her. “It’s not a very good means of disciplining you if you like it.”
“Then I guess you don’t get to discipline me.” She leaned up and licked his bottom lip. “Try something else.”
He kissed her again, his hands at her breasts, kneading them. Plucking the nipples. Adding more than a hint of pain to the incredible pleasure only he could provide.
She gyrated against him, sweeping her hands down to push off his boxers. The man had survived multiple hell worlds wearing only boxers. Male. The male. He was not human. Not even close. “Now, Sam,” she moaned, reaching for him.
He tweaked a nipple hard enough to make her yelp and then moved down her, his mouth finding her. Right where she wanted him. She flew off into another world in her head, orgasming so fast her ears rang. He bit her thigh, sinking his fangs deep. Then he scraped them across her more delicate flesh.
She gasped and held perfectly still.
“Finally. A way to get you to behave.” He licked her, swirling his tongue across her clit.
She bit her lip to keep from crying out.
“You know I like you loud.” He sucked the entire thing into his mouth, barely scraping his fangs along the sides. She blew apart, screaming, shaking wildly on the spongy ground. He let her come down. “Better. Much better.” Then he turned her over.
She stopped breathing.
He drew her up on hands and knees before prodding her, sliding inch by inch inside her. So big and ready and impossibly hard. She dropped her head, willing her body to take all of him. Pain and pleasure and completeness took her, as his steady grip kept her in place. He didn’t pause, and she stiffened, the pain increasing. He still didn’t pause.
She quaked around him. His grip was unbreakable and his determination strong. “Sam,” she murmured.
He tightened his hold and plunged inside her to the hilt, yanking her back into him. Shock took her at the suddenness of the pain, but she’d been wet and ready. Her body gripped his as if she’d never let him go.
“Honor.” His mouth was at her ear. He slammed into her, fast, relentless, strong. She could do nothing but take all of him, and she screamed through another orgasm, sobbing his name.
He continued to pound. His fingers bruising her hips, his body bracketing hers.
Live coils unwound inside her, burning her skin, torching her nerves. She climbed even higher, held her breath, and then fell. The orgasm swept through her stronger than any force, and then his fangs slid into her neck, sinking into her bone. She stiffened, thrown into another climax, lights flickering behind her eyelids.
Fire blistered her butt, combining with all the other sensations. He groaned with his own release.
The world stilled. The slight breeze caressed her bare skin. She breathed deep.
He pulled out, leaned down to kiss the burning circle on her butt, and then stood, helping her to her feet.
She turned and snuggled into his chest, kissing him.
He bent and kissed her, his lips firm. “Get dressed. We’re out of time.”
She looked up to see a portal opening, its jaws wide.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Sam would give almost anything for a pair of jeans. Or a sword. He held Honor’s hand, his mind retracing the steps Hope had taken to push him to this gray world. If he could do the same for Honor, at least he could keep her away from Ulric.
“Don’t even think it,” she said, digging her fingers into his hand. “Besides. You’re not the only one with this infection. I have to touch Ulric too.”
Sam straightened and took a deep breath. The gods owed him one. He brushed his fingers across her neck, closed his eyes, and dug deep into her for whatever this curse was. He caught it, a sense, and dug right into her brain for a kernel of fire that didn’t belong there.
She gasped and fought him, but it was too late.
He forced the fire out of her and shoved the molten mass into his own center, mingling it with the weird lump that had existed inside him since he’d undergone the ritual. For the briefest time, while she’d shared the pain, he’d felt better. Stronger and whole. Now, it was all in one place and felt like poison inside him. But at least he’d gotten it out of Honor.
He didn’t expect the punch to the gut.
He looked down at her. “Excuse me?”
She punched him again and then winced, shaking out her hand. “That wasn’t right. You couldn’t just take that…whatever it was. I felt it, and now you’re in more danger than you were before.”
“I know.” He’d never lie to her. “But if the worst happens, you can’t be dragged in again.” When she tried to glide into his brain, he mentally slapped her back.
“Ow.” She pressed a hand to her eye, glaring at him from the other one.
He shrugged. “Don’t go into people’s heads without permission.”
“You just did,” she exploded, stomping her foot with little effect on the springy ground. “This isn’t right. I can’t help you or protect you now.”