Valen (Guardians of Hades Romance Series Book 2) Page 6

  But that would mean bringing Marek here to her.

  When she was under the influence of the drug.

  He snarled at the thought, darkness rising in his blood to obliterate it. Never. None of his brothers were coming near this place, near her, when she was like this.

  His growl rumbled through the room as he stalked towards her, and rather than being afraid of him on hearing the inhuman sound, her eyes grew darker, hungrier, as if he had thrilled her rather than frightened her.

  He caught her wrist and pulled her onto her feet. She didn’t protest as he shoved her leather jacket off her, or even when her holster followed it, her guns hitting the white marble floor tiles with a loud crack. If anything, she writhed harder, and the way she tried to press against him, gods.

  Some part of his fucked up brain was still functioning though, because he managed to ignore the urge to surrender to her and scooped her up into his arms instead. She looked pleased, her blue eyes dark with her desire, and threaded her arms around his neck in a way that maddened him, pushing him right to the edge.

  He dumped her in the bath, ripping a shocked shriek from her and splashing water all over the tiles.

  She floundered, tossing more water over the side, and he caught her shoulders, shoved her back against the white tub and glared at her.

  “Stay.” Because he was having a hard enough time controlling himself when she was in a position where he couldn’t really get at her.

  If she left the tub, he wouldn’t be able to resist her.

  He glanced at his hand and bit out a ripe curse.

  When she was well again, he was going to find whoever had sent her after him and fuck them up.

  They had done this on purpose.

  Valen sank to his knees beside the tub, not giving a damn as water soaked into his jeans, his hands still clutching her bare shoulders to keep her in place in the hot water.

  He rested his chin on the curved top of the bath and breathed slowly, trying to bring himself back down and muster some control over his body.

  She stared at him, stunning blue eyes bright in the light that reflected off all the white tiles surrounding them, calm and tranquil, oddly distant.

  A little colour returned to her cheeks.

  Her lips grew rosy again.

  He wanted to kiss them. Needed to taste them. Taste her.

  He closed his eyes. How the fuck was he getting out of this one?

  Did he even want to get out?

  Valen opened his eyes, locking them straight on hers. She was beautiful. Breathtaking. Water dripped from the tangled strands of her short hair, rolling down the black and blue to leave trails down her cheeks that he wanted to wipe away. His hands felt too heavy to lift though, too good against her bare skin, feeling her warmth as it returned to chase the cold away.

  She blinked slowly, shuttering those eyes that he wanted to stare into for eternity, never looking away. He wanted to drown in them.

  The drug was something from the Underworld if he had to guess. It felt similar to the tonic some of the Hellspawn bars added in small doses to their brews to provide their patrons with a relaxing buzz that really took the edge off, something which he had indulged in from time to time. It would make sense that a daemon might know how to make the same drug, and how it would affect him.

  What didn’t make sense was sending her to deliver it.

  Unless this was all part of the plan.

  If it was, was she in on that part?

  No. His gut said that she wasn’t. She had thought the drug would kill him, had been terrified when he had crushed the glass container in her hand and exposed her to it.

  She didn’t know it was an aphrodisiac.

  The hungry look in her eyes and the way her cheeks flushed as she raked her gaze over him said she was beginning to get the message though.

  He rubbed his thumbs across her bare shoulders and she shivered, but not from cold. Her skin was hot beneath his hands now, but she would get cold again if he didn’t get her dried off and into something warm before the water temperature dropped.

  His bed sounded like a good place to put her, and then he could get into it with her and into something warm, somewhere he hadn’t been in too long.

  He shook that thought away and focused on lifting her from the tub and getting her dry. Water sluiced from her clothes as he set her down on the tiles and she slipped, her boots skidding on the slick surface. He probably should have removed those before putting her in the bath.

  He bent to remove them now and her hands came down on his shoulders, heating him through his coat. He tried to ignore how good her touch felt, how that heat seeped into him right down to his bones. Tried and failed.

  He really had to call his brothers.

  He growled and she froze. A little shiver wracked her and then she moaned and brushed her fingers through the short hair at the back of his head.

  Valen swatted her hand away and went back to her boots. It didn’t stop her. She pushed hot little fingers through his hair, curled them around the longer lengths on top, and surprised him.

  By yanking his head back so he was staring up at her.

  Sweet gods.

  Hot lust bolted through every inch of him in response, a hunger the magnitude of which he had never felt before.

  She towered over him, her wet red halter-top clinging to her breasts and her stomach, revealing everything to him. Her nipples beaded and he bit back a groan, ached with a need to rise up on his knees and suck on them through the material of her top.

  Her blue eyes dared him to do it.

  Water rolled down her chest, between the valley of her breasts, and his breath shortened as he followed a drop, cock ached as it hit the triangular cups of her top and soaked into the material.

  Temptress.

  “Fuck,” he barked and forced himself to pull her hand from his hair and shove it away.

  He wasn’t sure how he managed to do it, or to return to removing her boots as if nothing had just happened, she hadn’t just issued him an invitation to do wicked things to her.

  It was the drug.

  She placed her hand on his head again, smoothed her fingers over his hair and stroked the curve of his right ear.

  It was just the drug making her do this.

  He savoured it anyway, soaked it all up like some pathetic sap, even though it was a bitter pill to swallow.

  She wouldn’t touch him, wouldn’t want him if she was in control. The drug was affecting her and it was affecting him too, and he couldn’t let that happen.

  He wouldn’t.

  He finally got the damn fucking zippers on her boots down and pulled them off, tossing them a little too harshly across the room judging by the sound of splintering marble. Temper. It was taking a nosedive as he worked to get her out of her wet clothes, touching parts of her that he shouldn’t be touching.

  Her hips as he undid her belt and her jeans.

  Her thighs as he shimmied the wet material down her legs.

  Gods help him.

  He tried not to look as he revealed them, but he wasn’t a saint. He was as sinful as they came.

  She moved, shattering the fragile hold he had on his control, and he looked up at her as he reached her ankles with her jeans, and couldn’t bite back the groan this time.

  She pulled her red top off, and he ended up on his arse, stunned by the sight of her.

  Seduced.

  Her top hit the floor with a wet slap but he couldn’t rip his eyes away from her. He couldn’t breathe.

  He had never seen anything so sensual, so alluring.

  His eyes dropped to her left leg, to the start of a black and violet ink artwork that mesmerised him. A point above her knee grew into a scaly tail that snaked around her thigh before sprouting two legs with clawed feet that gripped her above her hip on her stomach and just below it. The tattoo disappeared around her back, before reappearing on her right where claws penetrated her hip and a long neck gracefully curved over the flat
plane of her stomach to end in an ornate dragon’s head that sat with its open jaw on either side of her navel.

  Between the dragon’s teeth, in the sensual hollow of that navel, sat a diamond that looked for all the world as if the dragon was holding it.

  Sweet gods.

  Valen swallowed hard.

  She skimmed her hands down over her chest, cupping her bare breasts, and stared at him with that challenge back in her eyes.

  He wanted to take her up on it.

  Really wanted to.

  She had to know that, had to see it in his eyes as he waged war with himself. He had never been honourable. Never been a good man.

  Why the hell was he starting now?

  She bit her lip, teasing it with her teeth in a way that told him to forget reforming himself and just give in to her.

  He couldn’t.

  Gods, why couldn’t he?

  What the fuck was wrong with him?

  It wasn’t real. That’s what was wrong.

  All of it.

  It was the drug.

  That tossed a bucket of ice water on his libido and gave him the strength to get onto his feet, pull off his coat and sling it around her, removing the tempting sight of her from his eyes.

  She frowned and tried to wriggle out of his coat.

  Valen growled at her, flashing teeth, and held it tighter, refusing to budge. He had it together, but he wasn’t sure how long he could hold it that way. It wouldn’t take much for him to be back on his arse, on his knees, panting for her, and he wasn’t sure he would be strong enough to claw back enough control and resist next time.

  He pulled her back into his arms, carried her out of his bathroom and took a left into the first bedroom.

  She scowled at him as he crossed the tiled floor in the pale-yellow-walled room and dumped her on the huge wooden bed. He grabbed the blanket and tossed it over her.

  “Sleep.” Even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t going to happen.

  She had that look in her eyes again.

  Moonlight shone through the two windows beyond the bed, illuminating her where she lay in it, highlighting her smooth skin as she shirked his black coat and writhed beneath the thin white covers. Gods, they did nothing to hide her from his eyes, seemed to cling to every dangerous curve as she moved in a sensual dance, one designed to lure him to her. She had to know what she was doing.

  Fucking temptress.

  He had to call his brothers, let them take over, question her or something while he pulled his shit together.

  He reached into his jeans for his phone.

  She reached a hand out to him.

  Valen paused, torn between calling his brothers and answering her call.

  His little assassin made his decision for him by shoving the pale covers aside, getting onto all fours and crawling towards him across the king-size bed.

  He shook his head, his fingers trembling against his phone as he silently begged her not to push him. He wasn’t a fucking hero. He didn’t have that sort of willpower.

  Everything good in him said to back away as she reached him, but his feet wouldn’t cooperate.

  She fisted his black t-shirt in one hand and then the other, pulling herself up and pulling him down at the same time.

  Move.

  He had to move.

  Her right hand slid around the nape of his neck and it was game over as she dragged his mouth down against hers.

  Roses and sin.

  She tasted as delicious as she smelled.

  He groaned, slanted his head and claimed her mouth, thrusting his tongue past the seal of her lips and seizing all of her. She moaned, arched against him and held him tighter, clung to him as if he was her saviour not her damnation.

  His hands shook, the temptation to grab her and lay claim to all of her almost overpowering him.

  He shoved those hands into his pockets, but even that wasn’t enough to stop him from aching to touch her, to weigh the firm globes of her breasts in his palms before he devoured them with his mouth.

  The feel of her hand on the belt of his jeans had him jerking backwards.

  He staggered away from her, only stopping when his back hit the wall of his bedroom, and shook his head, warning her to keep her distance.

  She held her hand out to him again.

  It was bleeding.

  Valen couldn’t stop himself from walking towards her, drawn by a need to take care of her that he couldn’t understand.

  He took her hand, felt it shaking in his, trembling with the same need that coursed through him. He lifted it to his lips and licked the shallow cuts, groaned and shuddered as he tasted her blood and the drug.

  It was potent, instantly washing away all his doubts and his fears, allowing need to master him once more.

  He lifted his eyes to hers and found them dark and inviting as she watched him, her lips parted and rosy from his kiss.

  On a snarl, he tossed her hand aside, claimed the nape of her neck with his left hand and seized her mouth with his own. She moaned and melted into him in the most delicious way, and he swore he could feel her need pounding in his veins, beating in his heart.

  He didn’t stop her when she reached for his belt this time. Couldn’t.

  His will to resist had shattered the moment his lips had touched hers and now he was as shackled by need as she was, a slave to this deep craving blossoming inside him, this dark urge to lose himself in her.

  He tore his mouth away from hers only long enough to rip his t-shirt over his head. When he went to seize her mouth again, her hands on his bare chest stopped him in his tracks and the way she looked upon him set his blood on fire until it burned like an inferno.

  He wasn’t sure anyone had ever looked at him like that.

  As if she wanted to eat him up, devour every inch of him.

  Mercy.

  She caught him off guard, springing from the bed into his arms and knocking him back into the wall. He grunted as his back hit it hard and she swallowed it in a fierce kiss. Her lips meshed with his, tongue sweeping across them one moment and teeth teasing the next. Her bare breasts plastered against his chest, her heart pounding with the same staccato rhythm as his.

  Out of control.

  He groaned into her mouth and grabbed her backside as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing her hot core against his aching erection. Her fingers tangled in his hair, ploughing through the long lengths on top, and he gritted his teeth as she yanked his head back.

  Damn. Some fucker out there had made her for him.

  Words swam at the back of his mind, a hazy warning about curses that dissipated as she went to work on his jeans, fumbling around between her legs, driving him crazy with need.

  Her lips were hot on his throat, scorching a trail down it as she pulled his head back further, forcing him to obey. He groaned and held her closer, palmed her backside and drank every drop of pleasure she sent blazing through his body.

  Her hand found his hard cock and he shuddered, an involuntary whimper escaping him that he pretended not to hear because thankfully she didn’t seem to hear it either. She was too busy stroking him, teasing the blunt head with masterful fingertips that had his knees turning to jelly and legs ready to buckle.

  He reached between them and pulled her hand away before she did any permanent damage. No fucking way this ended with him spilling all over her panties.

  She moaned, writhed harder, and yanked his head down. Her lips claimed his again, her kiss hard and demanding, pressing him into turning the tables on her. She wanted it rough. He growled as she snagged his lower lip between her teeth, sending a sharp lance of pain down his jaw, and tugged on it.

  Damn, he would show her rough.

  He turned with her and slammed her against the wall, and she moaned in response. Wicked little assassin.

  She rocked against him as he kissed her, seizing control of it and dominating her with every stroke of his tongue along hers, not letting her have her way. She tried to bite him
again and he caught her by her jaw, clucked his tongue and held her fast as he kissed her. She moaned, writhed and wriggled, pressing her damp core against his aching erection.

  Too much.

  He pinned her to the wall with his body so he could use his hands, and tore her panties away, groaned as his throbbing shaft was suddenly exposed to the slick warmth of her.

  She moaned louder, rocked harder.

  Valen gave her what she wanted.

  He eased back, grasped his cock and shifted it down, running the blunt head over her clitoris, teasing her with it. She leaned her head back and grasped his shoulders, constantly moving in his arms, as if she couldn’t keep still, as if need mastered her just as it mastered him and she was a slave to it, wouldn’t be able to stop moving until it was satisfied.

  He could do that for her. He could satisfy both of their needs.

  He buried himself in her in one hard, unforgiving stroke, driving her into the wall.

  She cried out, the sound born of pleasure rather than pain as he filled her, stretching her around his cock, making her take all of him. Her nails pressed into his shoulders and he grunted as she clawed at him, her face screwed up in bliss.

  He seized her mouth as he withdrew and plunged back into her, claiming her body. She clung to him, her legs wrapping tight around his waist, holding him to her as her nails raked over his shoulders, leaving her mark on him just as he ached to leave his mark on her.

  She would never forget him.

  He kissed her hard as he drove into her, giving her everything she wanted, everything he needed. She was hot, tight. Heavenly. He grunted and thrust deeper, long hard strokes to make her feel every inch of him, to claim every inch of her.

  She released his right shoulder and he moaned as she clawed at the wall, rocked and writhed in his arms, lost in the moment.

  He was right there with her.

  His little assassin.

  He frowned as he thrust back into her.

  Tore his mouth away from hers, much to her disapproval judging by the way she grabbed his neck and tried to pull him back to her.

  He tensed, not letting her have her way, but kept pounding into her, unable to stop now that he had started, not until he felt her shatter around him.