The Darkest Promise (Lords of the Underworld #13)

She screamed his name, just the way he liked.

Damn, she tasted so good. Was even more intoxicating than ambrosia. His perfect little lollipop. His tongue and fingers worked in tandem, propelling her need higher—propelling his own need higher. Her inner walls were hot and wet and so wonderfully tight around his finger.

His shaft ached with pain and with pleasure.

“Lazario...” A groan.

My woman desires more. He wedged another finger inside her, stretching her, preparing her for a more intimate penetration.

Then her soft lips parted, and she moaned his name. “Please...please...”

Frenzied, he shot to his feet and shut off the water. He picked her up, his motions shockingly unaffected by the crystals. His passion was simply too great. He carried her to the bedroom and laid her across the bed, pinning her body beneath his. Wet skin against wet skin. Long ebony hair spilled over the pillows like ribbons drenched in a rainstorm. Her arms and legs wrapped around him. With no other preamble, he surged inside her.

Her back bowed. She closed her eyes and cried out as she climaxed around his shaft. Pleasure morphed into agony as he fought his own need to come. Nothing had ever felt so good, so right, but he forced himself to remain still.

Savor. He wasn’t ready for this to end.

When she sagged against the bed, a panting, boneless heap, he had a flash of rational thought. “Should have covered this earlier. Birth control?” Sweat trickled down his back, only to steam off his overheated skin.

If he had to withdraw from her, he would. He would suffer, but he would do it. He’d never wanted children, had never wanted his love for his child used against him, had never desired to sentence a child to a cursed eternity weakened by something as innocuous—and insidious—as crystals.

“I’m given a shot every three months.” She practically purred the words. “I’m good to roll.”

Heady with relief, Lazarus hooked his arms under her knees and angled her body for deeper penetration. With his first thrust, her languid contentment vanished. Moaning, she arched to take him deeper still.

He slid out with slow reverence and then thrust back in. The ecstasy! His skin pulled taut over his bones. Out...in. Out, in. The pressure inside him built. Her inner walls slick and hot, he increased his speed until he was pounding inside her, again and again. The bed rocked, headboard slapping the wall. Pictures fell, glass shattered.

“One more kiss. One more touch,” she pleaded. “One more everything.”

He slammed his mouth into hers, finesse beyond him. She met his ferocity with pure feminine aggression. Their breaths mingled. Through the connection of their minds, he knew how close she was to a second climax. How desperately she ached, as if she’d never experienced satisfaction.

He lifted his head and rasped, “Look at me, my beautiful μονομαν?α.”

Her eyes opened, meeting his, her silver irises wild with lust. Then she screamed his name, her inner walls squeezing his length. He felt her pleasure, both physically and emotionally, and his own climax ripped through him.

With a roar, he jetted inside her.

*

Cameo opened her eyes, roused from the sweetest sleep of her life. Lazarus dozed beside her, his arms wrapped around her, and her heart melted. Was this the first time he’d slept since her bout with depression?

A tender smile shaped her lips. Poor, sweet darling. He’d taken such good care of her. She stretched and grinned at the lovely soreness in muscles long unused. Yes, he’d taken very good care of her, and in more ways than one.

Sex with him had been eternity changing. He’d catapulted her to heights she hadn’t known existed. He’d done the impossible and quieted Misery. And through it all, he’d looked at her and touched her as if she were a precious treasure rather than a hated anchor.

Living without him would not be possible now.

Perhaps he felt the same about her? He’d called her monomania. Spelled μονομαν?α, the Greek word for kink or obsession.

A single doubt nagged at her, however. When she’d mentioned Pandora’s box, some dark emotion had flashed in his eyes. Guilt? Anger? If she were his obsession, he would have told her if he’d found the artifact. He wouldn’t allow her to wonder and worry needlessly.

Despite his moniker, Lazarus was kind and caring. At least, he was kind and caring with her.

Fear prickled along the nape of her neck when she saw that the crystals had spread farther down his chest. She wanted so badly to talk to Torin and Keeley, but she wouldn’t betray her man’s trust. Not even to save his life.

After all, there was a way to stop this. He’d said so.

Whatever he needed to do, he would do. Whatever she needed to do, she would do. End of story.

As carefully as possible, she extracted herself from his embrace. Already mourning the loss of his heat and hardness, she donned a robe and tiptoed to the vanity, where she sat and peered into the mirror.

“Help me help him,” she whispered. “Show me what to do.”

The glass remained intact.

“Please,” she said, desperate.

Nothing. No change.

Why! Why would the mirror deny her now?

Misery laughed, and her shoulders rolled in. But she caught the action and forced her shoulders to square. No! No more sorrow.

The demon stopped laughing.

A soft knock sounded at the door. When Lazarus gave no notice, Cameo stood and tiptoed to the entrance. Torin stood in the hall, his white hair in complete disarray and his expression grim.

Nerves suddenly razed, she closed the door behind her. “What’s wrong?”

He couldn’t mask his flinch. “I’ve wanted to speak with you for a week but...yeah. Anyway. As soon as you took off to find Lazarus, I started digging into his past. When Keeley saw my notes, some memories clicked into place for her.”

Her stomach churned with an influx of concern. “I won’t tell you anything I know, but I will listen to what you discovered.”

“He’s dying,” her friend announced, and she stumbled backward, hitting the door. “A few hours ago, Lucien and Viola confirmed it. As Death and the Afterlife, they see what we can’t. An end for you or Lazarus. But I know it’s Lazarus. His veins are filling with strange crystals, yes? Keeley informed me the same transformation happened to his father...after he met Lazarus’s mother.”

Horror petrified her muscles. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Torin’s emerald eyes filled with pity, but he said no more. No other words were necessary.

After he met Lazarus’s mother...

Cameo was Lazarus’s doom. She had caused the crystals to spread.

In the back of her mind, Misery began to laugh again. Only a matter of time before you want to forget the male, eh?

“I didn’t want to tell you,” Torin said, “didn’t want to cause another episode.”