Lords of the Underworld Book 4 - Page 39

“You aren’t even close to hurting me,” he barked. “Come on. Make me work for it. I’m all over you and you’re taking it. Letting me. Almost welcoming me.”

“Shut up!” Sweat dripped from her face, and her shirt was plastered to her chest. “I’m not welcoming you. I hate you.”

Everyone he’d ever trained had said that at one point or another, but this was the first time he’d ever felt the words in his soul, burning, aching. “Then why haven’t you given up? Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to learn to fight?” he demanded, easily tripping her again. He wanted her to voice her reasons for pushing herself so hard. Maybe it would motivate her. “You could be hurt. By me. By Hunters.”

She went down, but quickly jumped back up, spitting dirt. Cuts and bruises marred her from head to toe. Her jeans had been ripped to shreds from her many tumbles.

“Hunters deserve to die.” She remained in place, panting. “Besides, I’ve already been hurt. I survived. I healed.”

Because of his blood. It was the hottest thing he’d ever done, giving his essence to a woman. He wanted to give her more, every drop. The craving had grown with every hour that pa.s.sed.

Sabin scoured a hand down his face, wiping away grime. “This isn’t working.” She couldn’t take much more, and he wasn’t sure how much more he could dish. “We need to try something new.”

“The only thing we haven’t tried is unleashing my Harpy. Then you’d be sorry. She’s desperate to get her hands on you.” There was relish in her tone.

His eyes widened. Of course. “You’re right. If you plan to fight Hunters,” which he wasn’t sure he would allow anymore—wait, where had that thought come from?—“you’ll have to learn to summon your Harpy quickly. Which means you need to summon her now and train with her.”

Every speck of color in Gwen’s lovely face drained. She shook her head. “I was taunting you, trying to scare you. I wasn’t serious.”

“You might want to rethink this, demon,” Bianka called from the sidelines, tossing her black hair over her shoulder. “She hasn’t learned to control her Harpy yet. p.i.s.s her off, and she might eat even you.”

He turned, giving Gwen his profile. Part of him hoped she would attack him, prove she’d been listening and go for blood the moment her opponent’s attention veered. But she didn’t. Too softhearted, he supposed. “And you have? Learned to control it?”

Her lips curled into a smile. “Yes. Only took me twenty years, but then, I like that part of myself and Gwen never has.”

Great. He realized in that moment that he couldn’t leave Gwen when he traveled to Chicago, not even with two of her sisters guarding her. If she accidentally lost control of her Harpy, she could hurt the warriors who’d remained behind. He was the only one who seemed capable of calming her. Could he take her with him, though, and leave her somewhere while he traipsed off to war? Alone? Unprotected?

s.h.i.t. He was going to have to stay here with her.

Surprisingly, the decision brought relief rather than irritation.

“How did you finally learn?” he asked Bianka.

“Practice. Regrets.” The last was said with a hint of sadness. She’d probably killed people she cared about, even as Gwen feared doing.

He focused fully on Gwen. “Well, we’re gonna have to put you on an accelerated program. So let the Harpy out. She and I are going to play.”

“No.” Violently she shook her head again, even backed away from him, palms outstretched to keep him at bay. “No way in h.e.l.l.”

Very well. He popped his jaw. This is for her own good. Do it. You have to. A deep breath, then, Doubt. Have at her.

Happy to finally get to work without restriction, the demon swooped on her in a single heartbeat. He had your sister pinned to a bed yesterday. She’s so pretty, so strong. I wonder if he wishes you’d never woken up. If he wishes he’d never fed you his blood to make you strong. I wonder if he’s imagining Kaia in bed with him even now, all that hair spread over his thighs as she sucks him dry. Maybe that’s why he’s pushing you so hard—so you’ll walk away from him, leaving the field wide open for your sister. Or maybe he hopes you’ll be so sore, you won’t protest if he decides to make another go at her. Tonight. All night.

One second Gwen was in front of him, the next she was gripping him, flying him through the air, forest buzzing past, a blur. After an eternity, his back slammed into a tree trunk, and breathing became an impossible dream.

Her teeth were bared, her claws ripping away his pants. He grabbed Gwen by the shoulders, not knowing whether to push her away or draw her closer. She was Harpy, totally and completely, her eyes a perfect night sky, hair feathered back from her wild expression.

“Gwen. We need to go back to the field.”

“Don’t move,” she said, her voice high-pitched, and then her teeth were deep in his neck and he couldn’t have moved to save his life. “You’re mine. Mine!”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

GWEN’S MIND WAS a whirl of activity. Most of it turbulent, dark. Last night, she’d tried to ignore Sabin’s appeal because he hadn’t seemed to want her. He’d slept next to her—his lemon and mint scent in her nose, his heat wafting to her, his raspy breaths ringing in her ears, her body attuned to his every movement, skin itching for a touch, a single touch, heart racing—but he hadn’t made a move. Ignoring him was no longer an option.

She was becoming obsessed with him. She wanted to learn more about him. She wanted to spend every minute of every day with him. She wanted to possess him. Will possess him, a voice screeched in her mind. The Harpy. The one now pulling her strings, urging her to do all the naughty things she’d been fantasizing about. So what that Sabin wasn’t what she’d always wanted for herself. So what that he would betray her in an instant if it meant winning his war. There was nothing wrong with enjoying the here and now. With him. If he thought to take her sisters…She’d known the demon of Doubt had whispered those terrible things to her. She’d recognized its poisonous murmur, but had been unable to stop the flood of violence that raged through her. Sabin and Kaia—h.e.l.l, no. No one touched him, including her loved ones. Might be irrational of her, but she didn’t care.

Several times he’d claimed to desire only Gwen. Well, he was d.a.m.n well going to prove it.

She had him pinned to a tree, and there was nothing he could do to escape. He was hers. Hers, hers, hers to do with as she pleased. And right now, she wanted him naked. He’d already removed his shirt on the field, so all that remained were his pants. She worked at b.u.t.tons, then the zipper. In seconds, the denim was nothing more than ribbons in the warm breeze.

He wasn’t wearing underwear.

“I think my briefs were stolen,” he said sheepishly, following her gaze.

His erection sprang free, long, thick, proud, and she gasped in pleasure. His t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es were heavy and drawn up tight. Sunlight poured over him, turning the bronze of his skin to a delicious gold. Today he’d pushed her around, and she’d taken it without (much) complaint. Deep down, she’d known she needed his brand of training. Never again did she want to be shot up like a turkey at Christmas. Plus, part of her really did want to defeat the men who’d abused her. Plus, she’d wanted to impress Sabin. He valued strength.

“Mine,” she said, wrapping her fingers around his c.o.c.k. She didn’t recognize her voice. It was higher, raspier. A bead of moisture coated her hand.

He arched his hips forward, forcing her hand to slide to the base of his shaft. “Yes,” he gritted out.

Her grip tightened. Her vision was a bit distorted, fuzzed to infrared, so she could see the heat pulsing from him. “Tell your demon to keep his mouth shut or I’ll gut him.”

“He’s been quiet since you rammed me.”

Good. She must have scared the forest animals and insects, as well, because there wasn’t a chirp or footfall to be heard. She and Sabin were completely alone, about a mile from where they’d been training. “Rip off my clothes. Now.”

Unused to taking commands, he reacted slowly to hers. She released him to do it herself, and he growled. “Put your hand back.”

The moment she did, he was tugging at her clothes, doing whatever was necessary to remove them without disrupting the connection between them. Finally, she was naked, their heated skin was touching and he was moaning.

“Beautiful.” He ran his hands down her back, paused. “Wings?”

“Problem?” Warm air caressed her, hardening her nipples, stoking the wet ache between her legs. A constant ache. One that hadn’t left since that time in the shower.

“Let me see.” He spun her around. For a moment, there was nothing, no reaction, no comment; he didn’t even breathe. Then he placed a soft kiss on one of the tiny, fluttering protrusions. “They’re amazing.”

No man had ever seen her wings. She’d even kept them hidden from Tyson, never letting them peek from the slits in her back. They set her apart, proved how different she was. But under Sabin’s gaze, she felt…proud. Shivering, she pivoted on her heel, returning to her former position. “Let’s get started.”

“Sure you want to do this, Gwendolyn?” His voice was husky and thick, almost drugged.

“Can’t stop me.” Nothing would stop her, actually, not even a protest from him. She was going to have him, know his taste, feel him inside her, today, now, this moment. Part of her knew she was not herself just then, but the other part of her didn’t care. Once Sabin had thought to mark her to keep his friends away from her. Now she was going to mark him.

“Sure you want it and not just your Harpy?”

He wouldn’t make her feel guilty about this. “Stop talking. I’m going to have you. I don’t care what you say.”

“Very well.” Her world spun, and then jagged bark was cutting into her back. Sabin kicked her ankles, shooting her legs apart. He quickly inserted a thigh, placing her c.l.i.toris right above his knee. “There’ll be consequences. I hope you know that.”