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Authors: Gena Showalter

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BOOK: The Darkest Surrender
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“Good. I’ve worried about you for too damn long and I need you. More than that, I deserve a reward for taking care of you.
Don’t I?

Concern for his safety persisted. He was the most important part of her life. “That’s your demon talking. I know it. If you would just think this through, you’d—”

“Baby doll, I haven’t thought clearly since I met you. We’re having sex. You’re gonna like it, I’m gonna like it, and we’re gonna come out of this alive.” He paused, snickered. “Get it?
Come
out of this.”

She rolled her eyes, but his complete disregard for her fears did much to help alleviate them.

Strider wasn’t done, though. “My demon likes to dominate you, yes, and being with you sexually is far more satisfying than anything else because he’s also afraid of you, making your surrender all the sweeter. But he hasn’t accepted a challenge yet. This is just you and me. And need. Hard, raging need.”

She nibbled on her bottom lip. “I don’t want Defeat to fear me. I want him to like me always.”

A slow smile curled his lips. “Good. ’Cause the bastard just purred his approval.”

“Really?” Finally she allowed her arms to wind around his neck. He pressed his shaft against her, rubbed back and forth and pulled a groan of pleasure from deep inside her. But the heat intensified, pulsing from her and he began to sweat. That scared her. “Strider.”

“I’m your consort. You can’t hurt me.”

Another good point. “But…that’s your arousal talking.”

“No, that’s my trust in you and your strength talking.”

“You said I did a piss-poor job.”

“Did not.”

“Did, too.”

“Zip it, Kaia, and stop stalling. Look at it this way if you want. Your Harpy is one badass chick and she loves me. She’s not going to hurt me. Deal with it and let’s move on.”

“She
tolerates
you,” Kaia lied.

“She obviously needs a vocabulary lesson. She loves me. And,” he went on before she could comment, “she’s stronger than your Phoenix side. She has to be.” As he spoke, he thrummed her nipples, giving her more of the sweet, sweet contact she’d craved so badly. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have gone this long without setting people on fire.
But.
If it makes you feel any better…”

He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the exit. She felt the drop in temperature the moment Strider stepped outside. Snow poured from the darkened sky, as determined as a rainstorm.

“We’re alone out here,” he said. “Everyone else left yesterday and Lysander posted guards on the other side of the mountains. No one will be sneaking up on us.”

Good to know. What was embarrassing was that she hadn’t given the possibility of a sneak attack a moment’s thought. Only this man. Only his touch.

“You’re going to freeze to death,” she warned as he laid her down in the snow. Goose bumps formed over her skin as she cooled.

“Make up your mind. Either I’ll burn to death or I’ll freeze to death. Which is it?” He spread her legs as far as they would go and crouched in front of her. “So pretty,” he said, running a finger through her moist slit.

Her back arched in supplication. “So
good.

“So mine.” He teased her clitoris, ramping up her desire—and touching everywhere but
there.
“Say it.”

“I’m yours,” she breathed. Always.

A kiss and a lick at the center of her need, making her moan, and then he was once again looming over her. The snow fell around him, hauntingly beautiful. He didn’t enter her, not yet, but started that slow, hard rub all over again, teasing, teasing. She gave another needy moan.

“Strider. Please.”

“Gods, you taste good. I need another.” Back down he went, licking and sucking.

The pleasure slammed through her and her fingers tangled in his hair. The heat blossomed again, despite the chilly winds, spinning through her veins. Though pleasurable dizziness hazed her eyesight, she watched him, determined to stop him at the first sign of danger. Sweat beaded on his temples and dripped onto her thighs. Sweat, but no welts. Good, good, so good.

His tongue never stopped working her, sinking in and out, making love to her, before finally sliding over her clitoris. With one final press, he brought her to a quick orgasm. Satisfaction burst through her, traveling from between her legs into her chest, her arms, her feet, sweeping a tide of sensation through every part of her. Flames erupted from behind her eyelids, but at no time did those flames leave her.

She began to believe. She could never hurt this man. Neither intentionally, nor unintentionally. He was her other half, as indispensable as her heart. Hell, he
was
her heart. He calmed her Harpy and now, apparently, he tamed the Phoenix.

“Open your eyes, baby doll.”

She obeyed without question. He was poised over her, hair plastered to his scalp. Sweating still. The tip of his
penis brushed her drenched opening and she had to bite her lip as renewed desire sparked.

“Confession time,” he said. Another brush. “You burned away the angel robes. From both of us. That’s why we were naked. And you did set me on fire. Once. But I got over it.” He didn’t wait for her reply but slammed into her, sinking as deep as he could go.

Automatically she arched to meet him, to take him, to take everything. “You…bastard,” she managed to gasp out. He was so wide, he stretched her. So long he hit her deeper than any other. But she was so wet, the glide was easy. “I could…kill you, doing this.” She’d been so sure, after that climax, that she couldn’t hurt him. Now, to find out that she
had
hurt him…that she could again…

“Accident,” he said on a moan. He surged deep again, pulled out, surged.

“I won’t risk you.” Could she push him away?
For his own good, for his own good.
“Strider—”

“You don’t have to risk me. And I’ll prove it.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

S
TRIDER BROUGHT HIS WOMAN
to peak after peak, showing her no mercy, bending her body in every position imaginable. He sucked on her nipples, licked her from head to toe, teased her sex with long, sure rubs, pounded inside her, slow and easy, then sped up, fast, faster, strokes becoming quick, shallow, then deep, piercing.

When she lay on her back, nearly unable to catch her breath, he placed her legs on his shoulders. When she reached another peak, he moved her legs to his waist. When she reached yet
another
peak, he flipped her around and took her from behind. Through it all, she writhed and moaned and begged for more.

More. Yeah, he could give her more. He thought he could love her like this forever and still another day, despite his own raging need to climax. A need that was building and building, consuming him, but he’d never been more determined to brand himself into another being. And he would. Until every cell she possessed wept with knowledge of him, unable to deny him in any way.

That way, she would never forget that she belonged to him, never forget what he would do to her if she scared him again. Not that this would be much of a deterrent. Hell, he was giving her a reason to get her ass kicked every goddamn day. Almost die, and she’d get the best sex of her life. No damn ego check required, thank you.

He just…he didn’t want this moment to end. He needed this. Needed her.

Keeping him at a distance wasn’t an option. Yeah, he’d known how she would react when she found out she had burned him. And yeah, he’d confessed only when she’d been unable to kick up much of a fit about it. Hello. He was
smart.
But like he’d told her, charring him over an open flame had been an accident. What he hadn’t told her, but something they would cover later? It had been an accident he’d incited.

She’d been dying, gasping that final breath. He’d seen enough people die to know when the Grim Reaper would be called. And he’d known Lucien would soon be called. Lucien would have heeded the summons, too, no matter how hotly Strider protested. He would have taken Kaia’s soul to the afterlife, as his demon, Death, required. Knowing that was about to happen, Strider had fallen straight into bat-shit crazy land and pulled a Gideon.

He’d married his woman.

He’d recalled how Gideon had raved about slicing himself, then slicing Scarlet and combining their blood. The old-school way to get hitched. The action had bound their lives, their souls, and Gideon’s strength had become Scarlet’s. So Strider had done it. Sliced himself and then Kaia. The moment the blade had sunk into the sensitive flesh between her breasts, she had erupted, thrashing, the fires starting all over again.

A
little
of his skin had melted—like, the top half of his body—but that had been a small price to pay for her life. He’d already been her consort, but he’d added a little…spice to the relationship. Made them equals. Partners. And gods, the knowledge just about felled him.

Mine,
he thought now.
My wife. Always.

With every climax Kaia had, Defeat became a little more confident in his ability to tame her. A little more
possessive of her. Like Strider, the bastard had realized she would never purposely hurt him, that winning her—something no other man had ever done—was one of the greatest victories of their existence.

Bastard was also pouring pleasure straight into Strider’s veins and it was almost more than he could bear.

“Strider,” Kaia moaned, her sweet, curvy ass wiggling as he once again slowed his thrusts. “Please.”

The snow continued to fall, an exquisite storm he saw but didn’t feel. His woman was too hot. A heat he welcomed, adored, craved…hadn’t known he needed. Heat now represented Kaia, pleasure and satisfaction. A potent combination. He’d probably sport an erection all through the summer.

“Have you learned your lesson?” The words were practically ripped from his throat, his need causing his voice box to constrict.

“Yes.”

Leaning down, he pressed his chest into her searing back, the ridges of her spine creating the most delicious friction against his flesh. She murmured her approval. But much as he, too, fancied this new, deeper contact, he didn’t stay that way. He wound his arms around her and lifted them both so that they were on their knees, hers inside of his.

His aching cock never slid free of her and she hit the root of him. Her head fell to his shoulder, the length of her silky hair tickling him between their bodies. He moved one hand to her breast, the beaded pink nipple peaking from between his fingers. He moved his other hand to her wet, wet core.

“Damn you, move harder!” she commanded, her movements uncoordinated now. “Faster.”

“No. Tell me what you’ve learned first,” he demanded,
keeping himself still. He didn’t brush her clit, just teased the sensitive, swollen bud with his nearness.

She growled. “That I won’t hurt you by losing control during sex. FYI, I learned that about five climaxes ago, you bastard.”

“Hadn’t realized you were such a quick study.”

“So why aren’t you moving? I will hurt you if you don’t finish this!” That growl was sharper by the second. Her claws sank into his thighs as she said, “I swear, I’ll finish myself and leave you to rot.”

A rough chuckle left him. So impatient, his woman.
Thank the gods.
He wouldn’t have her any other way.

“I love you,” Strider told her. Before she could reply, he angled his head and meshed their lips together, his tongue driving against and rolling with hers. He gripped her hips and forced her to ride him, burying his cock as deep as it could go with each downward thrust, impaling her, then almost leaving her with each upward glide.

When that wasn’t enough, he pressed his thumb against the sweetest little spot on earth. She was so small, so tight, he knew he was nearly too big for her. Perhaps that should have made him take care, but she was strong and she could take anything he meted out. So he meted out a lot, hitting her hard and fast. The kiss never ended, never slowed, and he loved that they tasted of each other’s passion.

One of her hands lifted, those nails next digging into his scalp. “Strider,” she gasped, pulling from his lips. “Yes.
Yes.

Such a sweet benediction. His muscles quivered with the depths of his need. His bones ached. Had to…needed…would…damn it! He’d held his release back for so long, he couldn’t quite breech the resistant wall he’d erected.

He hammered at her, hips pistoning, and when that didn’t work, he dropped to his side, the ice barely notice
able, taking her with him, moving her top leg over his and spreading her as wide as he could.

Harder…harder still…but release continued to elude him. He was becoming desperate, sweating so much the ice melted and pooled beneath him. His fingers dug into Kaia’s hip with such might he knew bruises would form by morning.

She moaned and groaned and whimpered. And when she cried, “I love you,” as she broke apart, shattering, her inner muscles clenching at him, he realized that was exactly what he’d been waiting for, what he’d needed. Her declaration.

He, too, broke, her body practically ripping the seed out of him, the hot jets shooting inside her. Bright lights winked behind his eyelids, his roar echoing through the night.

When he’d emptied himself out long moments later, he collapsed beside her. She was shaking. Not from cold, but from exertion. He was too weak to smile and bang his chest with the force of his pride. His woman—his
wife
—was pleased.

“Did you mean it?” he managed to ask, sleep tugging at him as surely as she had.

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Yes.” Her voice was delicate, exhausted.

“About damn time.”

“Oh, just shut up and afterglow with me.”

Okay, so he wasn’t too weak to smile after all. “You gonna sleep? For real?”

“Try and stop me.” She yawned and burrowed her head into the hollow of his neck.

“You trust me to protect you?”

Several minutes dragged by in silence.

“Kaia?”

“What?” she murmured sleepily.

“Do you. Trust me. To protect you?”

“Of course,” she said. Her eyes were closed and within minutes, she was sagged against him, completely lost to the sweet kiss of slumber.

Of course,
she’d said. As if she hadn’t made him sweat about the answer. He dredged up the strength to carry her back to the tent, where he held her tight, all night, swearing to the gods he would never let go.

 

K
AIA WAS STILL REELING
over Strider’s absolute possession of her body two days later when they reached her sisters. They had their heads bent over their weapons, sharpening the tips and preparing for the third competition.

She and Strider hadn’t made love again and they hadn’t discussed their feelings for each other. A courtesy on his part, she knew. She had to remain focused, her eye on the prize. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to kidnap and torture Juliette for information about the Paring Rod. Which, Strider had told her, was apparently all too real and not the fake they’d been hoping for.

And there was no time to do so now, either. The journey from Alaska to Rome had eaten up her chance. While Juliette was now within her reach, the game would be starting in half an hour.

Bianka noticed Kaia when she glanced up to find her polishing stone. “Kye!” Grinning, she jumped to her feet, her weapon clattering to the floor next to her bucket of water. She rushed over and gathered Kaia in a welcome embrace. “I almost killed Strider when he refused to let me see you, but I knew you’d disapprove if he got so much as a scratch.” A long-suffering sigh. “Thankfully, he’s been texting me daily reports, so I knew you were on the mend. But seeing you…”

Hot tears stung her eyes. “Yeah, I know. I needed to see you, too.” She knew Strider hadn’t told her sisters about
the fire thing, and neither had their men, who’d witnessed the aftereffects. Not that Strider had explained things to them.

He’d left the decision up to her.

To tell, or not to tell? If she did, her sisters wouldn’t want her to fight.
Like they do anyway?
She ignored the harsh inner voice. Their reluctance would be wise. She may or may not be able to start another fire. If the Harpies pissed her off, yeah, she probably would. Like the Hunters, they would die. And that was fine, expected even. Using your abilities was encouraged during these kinds of competitions, every advantage exploited.

But if she lost control, would she harm her family, too?

She wished she had time to practice, to test the limits of her Phoenix side. Was strong emotion the trigger? Or would simply thinking about the flames work? Even now, the heat coiled through her veins, at the ready.

She would have liked to ask someone, but the only other Phoenix she knew was her dad and she would rather spend the rest of eternity wondering about the truth than speak to him for a single minute. His evil, his absolute lack of concern for others, for his own daughters’ well-being…she shuddered. He wasn’t exactly Father of the Year material.

That was another reason to remain out of the game. If she caught fire, or set someone else on fire, word of her new ability would spread. Daddy Dearest might come for her.

“Damn, girl. Are you feverish?” Bianka was sweating when they parted, though her twin didn’t sever all contact, keeping her arm wound around Kaia’s waist.

“Nope,” she lied. “Flushed. And I know, you don’t have to say it. Strider is a lucky man.”

“That’s the truth.”

Quashing a spark of guilt before it could form—she
absolutely hated lying to her twin—Kaia glanced around the room. Taliyah nodded in acknowledgment before returning to her blade-sharpening task. Gwen blew her a loving kiss. Neeka offered her a small smile and the others waved.

“Catch me up,” she said.

Bianka pulled her forward. Kaia’s other hand was intertwined with Strider’s and stayed that way until the last possible second. As she and her twin sat on the floor of the Team Kaia tent, she saw Sabin, Lysander and Strider gather in a corner and put their heads together, chatting, their voices low.

She tried to listen, her ears twitching, but she couldn’t make out the words. She tried to read their lips, but they kept their bodies angled away from her, not allowing her a single peek.

She was very close to standing up, stomping over, gripping her man by the shoulders and shaking him. Then she would demand he tell her what was going on, what he didn’t want her to know.

You trust him. You know he would never hurt you.
And that was true. She did. She trusted him with her life. Obviously. Otherwise, she never would have slept, truly slept, with him.

Gods, that had been amazing. Rousing from seductive dreams and feeling her man beside her. She’d been cocooned, had luxuriated in his strength, his thick arms banded around her. Sleep had still held him in a tight fist and his features had been relaxed, boyish.

Never in her life had she been so content.

“So…what do you think? You in?” Bianka asked, drawing her attention.

Shit. She hadn’t heard a single word her sister had said. “In what, exactly? Tell me again, because your explanation was so lame it confused me.”

Bianka knew her very well and rolled her eyes. “You are such a bad liar.”

Am I?
she almost asked with a smug lift of her chin.
You didn’t catch my last one.
“You’re projecting. Continue.”

“I was telling you how we’re in Rome, in the Coliseum. And get this. It’s the Coliseum of old, exactly the same as it used to be—only
way
different.”

Kaia supposed that, when you were as pretty as Bianka, you didn’t need to be smart. “Bee, darling. You are so, so exquisite, but you are also highly deranged. Do you have any idea how contradictory that statement was?”

“What are you talking about? I make perfect sense if you don’t actually ponder anything I say. Now guess what? The Coliseum is hidden from the mortal eye.
We’re
hidden from the mortal eye, in a realm we didn’t need a portal to access. Here, but not here.”

BOOK: The Darkest Surrender
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