Maelea’s pulse raced beneath her breast as she stared into his eyes. He was talking about the Underworld. What had happened to him there? All sorts of scenarios raced through her mind, but she couldn’t imagine him the focus of any single one. Not the strong, commanding warrior who’d escaped the colony, battled both kobaloi and daemons, and won.
But it was the Underworld. Hell. The land of the depraved. Not Disneyland, for crap’s sake. Hades could have done any number of things to him there, and even he wouldn’t have been able to stop them from happening.
Don’t trust him.
“I promise,” he whispered, his gaze still locked with hers. “I won’t hurt you.”
That darkness inside bubbled with exhilaration, and the fight slid out of her muscles even though she willed it to stay. As if he sensed her wavering resistance, he grabbed his pants from the floor, fished the key from the pocket, reached for her wrist, and unlocked the cuff. The metal clanged against the floor. And in the echo that followed, he tugged her shirt up and over her head before she could stop him, leaving her standing in nothing but her pants and thin bra.
Her nipples tightened under his heated gaze. She crossed her arms over her stomach so he couldn’t see her inner forearms. This was a bad idea. This was not something she should be letting him do. Why wasn’t she fighting him?
Warmth unfurled in her stomach as he moved closer. And oh, gods, she had to put a stop to this. But before she could find the words, he dropped to his knees and reached for the button at her waistband.
Chapter Ten
Beside Gryphon, Maelea tensed. Her hands landed against his bare shoulders, but she didn’t push him away. And when he unzipped her boots and slid her pants down her legs, tugging both off in one fluid motion, she didn’t try to stop him.
His gaze traveled up her bare legs as he tossed her clothes on the ground at his side, hovered on the nude-colored panties she wore, which weren’t sexy in the least but made his blood pulse hot in his veins. Then traveled over her flat stomach to the swell of her breasts hidden behind the plain nude fabric of her bra.
He cringed at the bruises he saw on her skin, but in the light couldn’t help but notice curves he’d felt in the tunnels. Her stomach quivered and memories of that kiss, of how warm and alive she’d been against him, rushed through his mind, reigniting an arousal he hadn’t felt in months.
Except with her.
He pushed to his feet, looked down at her face, and saw the unease in her eyes. Then ground his teeth against the desire burning in his veins. He hadn’t lied to her. Even though he was keeping her with him against her will, he wouldn’t force her to do something she didn’t want to do. He’d never give her the nightmares he lived with on a daily basis.
Grasping her hand, he tugged her toward the tub. He pushed the curtain aside, flipped on the water, waited for it to warm, then turned on the shower.
Steam filled the room. Maelea grew tense all over again as he stepped beneath the spray and pulled her in after him, drawing the curtain closed behind her. Water soaked the boxer briefs he still wore, plastered them to his body. As he moved aside to make room for her under the spray, he forced himself not to look at her bra. Instead he let go of her hand and reached for the soap.
He rubbed the bar between his hands until it created a lather, then brushed his fingers over her shoulders.
She jumped, tried to move back, but the shower wall stopped her momentum. “Wh-what are you doing?”
“Washing you.” He trailed soap down her biceps, back up again. Bubbles formed a frothy path along her skin that shimmered under the fluorescent lights.
“I can wash myself.”
“Relax.”
Her mouth snapped shut. She didn’t fight him, only stood rigid with her arms wrapped around her middle as he moved the bar down her chest and over to her side. Though he knew he shouldn’t be touching her, knew she was throwing off every I don’t like this or you sign in the book, he didn’t stop himself because any kind of distraction was better than waiting for the bloody voice to come back. And taking charge also guaranteed they’d be in and out of this shower as fast as possible, which was all he wanted right now.
He soaped her neck, her collarbone, moved his hands in quick, clinical sweeps. And managed to remain somewhat detached until his gaze hovered on a path of bubbles sliding down her pale skin. The soapy mass disappeared beneath the edge of her bra, and before he could stop them, his eyes dropped to her dark pink areolas, easily discernible behind the now-translucent fabric, then finally lingered on the hard nubs of her nipples.
Blood rushed to his groin. That arousal roared in his veins. Without thinking, he trailed his hands down the outsides of her breasts, pushed her arms aside and rubbed the soapy lather all over her soft, silky abdomen and down to her perfectly flared hips.