Читать книгу Dark Beginnings: The Darkest Fire / The Darkest Prison / The Darkest Angel - Gena Showalter - Страница 17

KISS HER? “I SHOULDN’T. I can’t.” What are you doing? You just told yourself you would not pass up an opportunity like this again. Geryon’s gaze strayed to her lips. They were lush and red. Glistening. His mouth watered for a taste of them. His horns, sensitive to his emotions as they were, throbbed.

Those pretty lips dipped into a frown. “Why not? You just said you liked me. Did you lie to spare my feelings?”

If only it were that easy. “I would never lie to you. And I do like you. You are beautiful and strong, the finest thing I have ever known.”

“You think me beautiful? Strong?” Pleasure lit her expression. “Then why won’t you kiss me?”

Yes, you fool. What reasons do you have now? “I will hurt you.” Oh. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? It was irrefutable. And the only guarantee he would keep his lips to himself.

Her face scrunched adorably in her confusion. “I don’t understand. You’ve never hurt me before.”

“My teeth…they are too sharp.” He didn’t add that his hands were too toxic, his strength too mighty. Were he to lose control of himself and squeeze her, which was a possibility considering how much he desired her, she would be hurt. Scared, too. Perhaps even irreparably damaged.

“I’m willing to risk it,” she said, placing her palms on his thighs and burning him soul-deep.

He both hated and loved his half-armor at that moment. Hated because it kept him from skin-to-fur contact. Loved because it blocked her gaze from parts of his monstrous form.

“Why?” What reason could she possibly have for wanting to place her luscious lips on something so disgusting? Mere curiosity would not drive a female to such an act. Evangeline had vomited the moment she’d first spied his changed appearance. “I could tolerate what you were, but I cannot tolerate…this,” she’d thrown at him.

“Because.” Twin pink circles painted Kadence’s cheeks, but she didn’t turn her gaze.

“Why?” he insisted. He placed his hands atop hers. Gulped at the headiness, the silkiness.

“You saved me.”

So she was grateful. Exactly as he had suspected—and had not wanted. His shoulders sagged in disappointment. Did you truly expect her to desire you? No, he hadn’t expected it—but he had hoped. “It would be dishonorable to kiss you for such a reason.”

“But I owe you.”

“No. I release you from that vow.” Foolish again!

“Fine.” Though she remained on her knees, she rose until they were merely a whisper apart. “Do it because I’m desperate, needy. Do it because I’ve suddenly realized how quickly something can be taken from me, and I wish to know some part of you before I’m—”

“Before you’re…” he managed to choke out. She was desperate? Needy? For him?

“Do it,” she pleaded.

Yes. Yes. Geryon could no longer resist, dishonorable or not. Risk or not. He would be careful, he vowed. So careful. He could not resist her. Would not resist her.

He bent the rest of the way, softly pressing his mouth against hers. Exquisite. She didn’t pull away. She gasped, lips parting, and he swept his tongue inside. Her taste…so sweet, like a snowstorm after a millennium of fire. Beyond exquisite.

“More,” she said. “Deeper. Harder.”

“Sure?” Please, please, please.

“More than I’ve ever been.”

Thank the gods. Centuries had passed since he’d kissed a woman and never while in this form, but he began thrusting his tongue against hers, rolling them together, retreating, then going back for more. When he felt his teeth scrape hers, he stiffened. And when she moaned, he tried to pull away. But her arms slid up his chest, one anchoring around his neck, the other caressing a horn. He had to grip his thighs, nails sinking deep, to keep his claws off her.

“Like?” she asked.

“Yes,” he managed to grit out.

“Good. Me, too.” Her lush breasts pressed into his chest, her nipples hard and searching.

She truly enjoyed his kiss? Tremors rocked him, their tongues beginning another dance, his muscles tightening against the strain of remaining exactly as he was. With every moment that passed, every breathy sound that emerged from her, his control snapped a little more. He yearned to toss her down, climb atop her and pound, pound so hard he would brand himself on every inch of her. Inside every cell.

More, more, more. He had to have more. Had to have all.

Had already given all.

The realization rocked him. “Stop,” he finally said. “We must stop.” He jerked to his feet, away from her, already mourning the loss of her taste. Shaking. He kept his back to her, panting, his heart racing.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked softly, and there was a catch in her voice.

Oh, yes. You stole a heart I could not afford to give. He’d promised never to lie to her, however, so he merely said, “Come. We have waited long enough. We have demons to hunt.”