No, not true. His little Haidee hummed in satisfaction, in more of that delight, and he felt the vibrations in his bones.
He had to grit his teeth to prevent himself from exploding then and there. Then she began to move, up and down, slowly at first, tormenting him, laving him with sensation, sensitizing his skin.
The ice of her touch should have numbed him, but combined with the heat his body exuded, he was kept in a continual state of need, ready to beg for one or the other to final y push him over the edge. And soon he was crying out in his mind, trying not to pump into her mouth.
That blond-and-pink hair bobbed, and with every upward glide, he saw slim, elegant fingers playing at his base. He started thinking about what he wanted to do with his own fingers. Glide them down the bumps of her spine, cup that trim little ass, spread each digit until he hit the warm, wet center of her. Sink deep with one, retreat, go back in with two, retreat, then go back in with three, until he stretched her.
Until she squirmed and rode him and gasped and cried.
Haidee groaned, her body trembling, her teeth scraping up his shaft. “Yes,” she rasped. “Yes. Fingers, deep. So deep.”
Amun’s heart thundered against his ribs. Was he pushing the images inside her head? He must be, he thought. Was glad. He wanted her to see, to know.
Al the while she licked at him, she nibbled, her hips undulating over his legs, searching for something to fil her.
He cupped her nape and massaged the muscles knotted underneath. When she began to relax against his hold, he tried to spin her around so that he could please her as she was pleasing him. She resisted.
“No. You first.”
Haidee.
“No. Just…need a moment…control…slipping…”
He wasn’t sure if she meant control of her body or control of the ice, but either way, he didn’t care. She wanted him. She needed him. And he wanted to taste her. Needed to taste her, too.
As those tormenting lol ipop licks continued, he tossed another image into her mind. One of his head buried between her thighs, sampling al the sweetness waiting there. Sucking her clitoris, flicking with his eager tongue, his fingers pinching her nipples into hard little pearls.
He’d shove her legs as far apart as they would go, burrow as deep as possible, and make her feel more vulnerable than she’d ever been. She would be helpless, his to control, command…his to own. He would take everything, swal ow her up, devour her completely, then rear up and slam home.
He wouldn’t be gentle. But then, she wouldn’t want gentleness. She would want a hard pounding, a punishing ride onto oblivion. She would scream and she would cry out. She would clutch at him and leave bloody trails on his back, her nails like talons as her legs wrapped around him, ankles locking.
He would make her forget her husband, forget every man she’d ever been with. Only Amun would matter. Only Amun would have rights to her. Anyone who tried to reach her, who wanted to see her like that, taste and touch her like that, would die. He would murder them.
She. Belonged. To. Him. Not even Haidee would be able to doubt that afterward.
“Oh, God,” she moaned, then lapped at his pre-come. Her trembling intensified.
I told myself to stay away from you, he said into her mind. I told myself to leave you alone.
“No,” she cried. “Don’t.”
But I can’t, he continued. Let me taste you.
“No,” she repeated. Less savagely, yes, but not completely broken. “Let me finish you. Because I swear to God, baby, you’re going to have this memory if it kil s me. And it just might. You taste so damn good.” With that, her mouth plunged, once again taking his entire length.
Amun final y let go of the gossamer threads of his control.
He fel back, hips thrusting up, fingers tangling in her hair.
She claimed him wildly, wantonly, as if she couldn’t live another moment without his seed; soon he was helpless to do anything but let her have every drop.
Fire rushed through his veins, burning them to ash, al owing the inferno to spread, consume him, burst from him. He bucked up as she slammed down, and that seed rose up his length and exploded from him.
Her cheeks hol owed as she swal owed, taking everything he had to give and stil demanding more.
She wrung him dry, reduced him to a shel of himself, and he sagged against the ground. She didn’t pul from him right away, but licked and purred as if unwil ing to give him up even then. His muscles continued to spasm with aftershocks of sensation, pleasure humming through him as potently as she had hummed on him.
He would have recovered—eventual y—and could have final y possessed her completely. But she wanted to cal Micah before they took that step, and Amun wouldn’t force that issue now. Not after what she’d just done for him. So he somehow found the strength to sit up, clasp her under the arms and lift her until she straddled his chest.
Her eyes were glazed with passion, her cheeks flushed a deep rose. Those beautiful locks of hair hung in rapturous tangles around her shoulders. Never had a woman looked more mussed, more ready for loving—or better loved.
“What are you—?”
He slid one of his hands between their bodies and thrust a finger deep. Immediately her head fel back and a cry parted her lips.
“Yes! Yes, please, yes.”
Just as he’d imagined, he used two fingers on the inward glide. She was so wet she drenched his hand, so needy her inner wal s clung to him, trying to hold him captive. This was how a woman should always feel. Ready. On the next inward glide, he used three, just as he’d craved. His thumb rubbed at her clitoris, never ceasing the pressure.
So desperate was her need, she erupted quickly and violently. Her scream echoed from the wal s, her knees squeezed his sides so tightly he knew his ribs would crack, and her nails raked his pecs, leaving welts. And when the last tremor left her, she col apsed on top of him, panting, eyes closed, skin sheened by a delicate layer of ice.
Amun was panting just as forceful y. What had just happened…he’d never experienced anything like it.
That hadn’t been the simple fulfil ment of a need. That had been the birthing of an addiction. An obsession. He had to have more. Had to have everything. Now, always.
Haidee’s lack of inhibition, her wil ingness to please him, her absolute claiming of him—for that’s what she’d done—
had utterly changed him. In an instant, the old Amun had been burned to ash, and a new Amun had risen up.
Haidee’s man.
He’d been stupid to try and push her away, he realized now.
Stupid to try to ignore the attraction between them. He’d only hurt and frustrated them both. Here, they could be together.
No one would ever have to know, which meant she wouldn’t be ridiculed, wouldn’t be punished or ostracized by her friends. And so they would; they would be together. He simply couldn’t be without her.
Wouldn’t be without her.
While they were here, he was forced to remind himself.
When they left hel , they would part. He wouldn’t disturb her life any more than he already had.
His hands curled into fists. Gods, even the thought of being without her blackened his mood. He would not be swayed from that course, however. Through his suffering, he would know Haidee lived as she was meant. Happily. Final y.
Secrets gave a little whimper, and Amun frowned. Did the demon not want to lose Haidee, either? I thought you were scared of her. He was careful to hold the thought inside his mind.
Another whimper sounded.
Understanding dawned. You aren’t done digging through her mind.
The demon gave no response, but a response wasn’t necessary. He knew.
He and Secrets had never had a true conversation, and he could hardly believe they were (almost) doing so now.
Doesn’t matter, though. We can’t keep her. For her own good, we can’t keep her.
As if Haidee sensed the direction of his thoughts, she struggled to sit up. Amun held tight, forcing her to remain against him.
Sleep, sweetheart. We’l talk later.
“Promise?” she asked, the word slurred with exhaustion.
Promise.
“’Kay.” She hadn’t noticed his failure to specify exactly what they’d discuss, and she went limp, slipping into a deep slumber.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
SOMETHING HARD AND INEXORABLE shook Haidee from the most peaceful sleep of her life.
She tried to bat the offender away. The shaking continued. She cursed and blinked open her eyes to see Amun looming above her, his expression tense, his black eyes unreadable.
He pressed a firm finger over her mouth before she could utter a single word. Something’s out there, his deep voice said into her mind. Urgency radiated from him, as contagious as a virus. Get dressed.
Of course someone was out there, she thought dryly. She and Amun were in a division of hel ; they weren’t al owed a single moment’s respite. And now, their long overdue relationship talk would have to wait. Again. Stil , this was better than the alternative. Like, say, dying.
As she donned the bra, panties, jeans, T-shirt, boots and countless blade and sheaths he’d laid out for her, she marveled at the change in herself. Only a few days ago, she had jolted to awareness every time she’d awoken, mind already locked on escape. Now, when danger had never been so prevalent, she’d let down her guard. She even had to remind herself not to think about what they’d done last night, how she’d sucked and swal owed him, how she’d ridden his fingers and cried his name.
She shivered as she listened for whatever had disturbed Amun. Nothing, she heard nothing. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and anchored the backpack on her shoulders. When they— Her ear twitched, and she frowned.
Was that a…whistle of wind? No, she thought. Laughter.
Faint but unmistakable now—and coming from more than one source.
Laughter in hel . Not good. No, not good at al . She glanced at Amun to gauge his reaction.
He looked alert, on edge, as he stood guard at the cave entrance, his back to her. He wore a black shirt and black slacks, and each looked buttery soft and flexible. That way, he wouldn’t be restricted during a fight. Silently she moved behind him.
