The Darkest Secret: Chapter 20

H unconscious body for a long while, content to watch him, guard him, as he had often done for her. His breathing remained deep and even, and the torment etching his features eventually smoothed out.

He looked like an innocent little boy, she mused, with his dark lashes curling out, his lips soft and parted. Only the dried blood on his temple ruined the illusion. Well, that, and his ginormous warrior frame. Such a beautiful man, and what the hell was dripping on him?

Her gaze narrowed on the red splatter now marring his cheek. Blood. Not his, though. Frowning, she moved her attention to her arm. She still held the blade she’d stuck him with, she realized. She dropped the weapon, heard the clatter of metal against rock, and looked at her hand. There were multiple puncture wounds.

Her frown intensified when she swayed, overcome by dizziness. Wasn’t that just typical? She’d felt fine until she actually spotted the wound. But damn, she must have lost quite a bit of blood. Which made sense. Those piranha-like creatures had chomped on each of her limbs. And God, did she remember the pain. Like having acid-tipped pins drilled into her bones.

If she had suffered, shielded by Amun as she’d been, how much had he suffered, completely out in the open?

And how had she repaid him? By knocking him into a stupor.

He wanted you to do it, she reminded herself, but that didn’t ease her guilt. Maybe because, deep down, she had wanted to do it. She’d heard her mother’s voice, her father’s, her sister’s, had known their deaths were approaching and had almost collapsed. If she’d had to listen to them die—again—she would have collapsed, no question.

Amun had known that, and had fought to spare her. Always he considered her well-being first, no matter the cost to himself. He’d known what he was saying, what he was about to say, and hadn’t wanted her hurt by it.

Until that moment, she hadn’t truly realized the constant burden he carried. He ascertained the dark thoughts and vile pasts of those around him and drew them inside himself. Unwittingly, yes, but rather than allow those poisons to spill from him, he held every drop inside himself. That way, no one else had to be tainted.

The strength of will such an act required… Haidee knew she would have crumbled long before now.

“What am I going to do with you, Amun?” she muttered. She hated that he hurt himself that way, that his only means of purging the darkness inside him came at such a high price. For him, for those he loved.

Sighing, she grabbed the backpack and gathered the supplies necessary to clean and bandage him, then herself. Then she ate a turkey sandwich and an apple and drained a bottle of water. Several more hours passed, but Amun didn’t awaken.

Had she caused permanent damage?

Concern rocked her, and she paced the spacious cavern. Soon a sense of déjà vu overtook her. The enclosure looked exactly like the one the angel, Zacharel, had brought them to that first night: rocky walls splattered with red, bones in every corner. Had they made no progress?

This was hell. Maybe every cavern looked like this.

As she paced, her heart ached and swelled, any resistance she still might have harbored toward Amun vanishing. He gave her what no one else had ever been able to give. A past to cherish. A present to enjoy. A future to anticipate.

And he wanted her, too. She knew he did. When he had pushed that image inside her head, the one of her in front of him, on her knees, his pants at his ankles and his hands in her hair, her mouth swallowing every inch of his massive erection, her own hands tugging at his testicles, she had nearly melted. She’d felt the raw need pulsing from him, the consuming hunger…the primal satisfaction.

She’d also felt his reasons for resisting her so steadfastly. Guilt, fear and remorse. Guilt for having inadvertently helped to kill her that first time—she’d known that already. Fear that he would hurt her again—that had been a surprise—and remorse for giving her up, even though it was for her own good. That wasn’t going to be tolerated.

He didn’t want her to regret what happened between them. Didn’t want her to later hate him. He would learn. She wouldn’t, couldn’t hate him. Not for any reason.

There had to be some way to prove how wrong he was. That the only way he could hurt her was by giving her up. That she would never regret being with him.

Amazed, she ground to a halt. It was true, she realized. She would never regret being with him. The Hunters would view her as a traitor, and they would target her as they targeted the Lords, but she didn’t care. And Micah, well, he would turn on her, too.

He would feel betrayed, personally and emotionally, but maybe one day, when he finally experienced the sizzle for himself, he would realize their split was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Now that she’d experienced it, she only wanted more. Would do whatever was needed to have more. Even seduce Amun within an inch of his life.

No more waiting to move forward until she broke things off with Micah. Yes, she still planned to call him, to tell him they were finished, but their relationship was already over, done. Amun had her loyalty now. Demon, immortal, whatever, he had her loyalty. He deserved her everything.

And really, she was operating under a limited amount of time. If she couldn’t reach him before they left these caverns—if they ever left these caverns—he would dump her somewhere and take off. For her own good. That, she knew, as well. Somehow, some way, she had to prove they could make a relationship work before then.

Turning his vision into a reality would be a good start.

She gave herself a once-over. Her clothes were ripped, caked in dirt and dried blood, and she probably smelled like dead piranha. She could clean up with wet wipes from the pack, she supposed, but tiny towelettes could only do so much. And yeah, she could summon another angel robe and that would magically wash away every unwanted speck, but mentally, she would still feel dirty.

“I need a bath,” she murmured to the backpack. “A real bath. Can you fit a tub in there? Huh?”

A whoosh at her side had her twisting and reaching for the blade she’d dropped. Though there had been a rocky wall beside her only a few seconds ago, there was now a wide, bubbling spring of water.

Haidee’s eyes widened with shock. How had…why…the backpack could manipulate the earth? Seriously? Then she thought, who the hell cared? The urge to soak and scrub overwhelmed her and left her trembling with anticipation.

“Soap, shampoo, conditioner,” she said giddily.

The backpack plumped at the sides, signaling it had filled with everything she had requested. After lining the items along the edge of the spring—a real freaking spring!—she stripped herself, stripped Amun, and then shook him until his eyelids cracked open. His spirits needed this. Besides, she was still concerned about him, fearing she had struck him too hard, and if he’d just wake up for a few minutes, she could relax.

He moaned, the sound broken, his throat obviously tender. At least he was rousing.

“Shh,” she said, covering his mouth with her hand. “Don’t talk out loud, baby. Okay?” Neither one of them was strong enough to deal with the consequences just yet.

His black eyes were glassy as he focused on her. Something wrong?

“Something’s right. Can you stand? We’re going to take a bath.”

A bath?

“That’s what I said,” she told him with a grin. And just then she knew; he was going to be all right. “Come on. On your feet, big boy.”

He lumbered to a stand and tripped his way to the edge. Then he just sort of fell over the side, splashing headfirst into the water. Haidee jumped in after him and dragged him to the surface before he drowned. His eyes had closed again, his head lolling to the side.

She chuckled as she settled against the rock and anchored him against her, chest to back. “You still awake, baby?”

Yes. He uttered a soft sigh. Just barely.

“I’m going to scrub us both. Tell me if I hurt you.”

You couldn’t hurt me.

“You’re injured and—”

And I’m in your arms. I’ll be fine, I promise.

Darling man. She tried to be impersonal, she really did. He wasn’t ready for the seduction she had planned. Yet.

Still, as her hands lathered the soap and spread the bubbles over his big arms, his corded chest, his strong thighs, her blood heated with desire, a reaction only he could cause.

His silky skin covered a body built for war, and she marveled. He made her desperate, hungry, mindless of anything except pleasure. Maybe because, when she was with him, she didn’t belong to herself. She belonged to him. And that probably should have frightened her. Instead, it only made her trust him more. Amun would die before he hurt her—as he’d proven time and time again.

“Amun?”

He gave no response. Poor baby must have fallen asleep again.

“I love your body,” she admitted, bold because he couldn’t hear her. “Did you know that? Everything about you seems custom-made for me. I mean, it’s almost like I ordered you from a catalog. And I wouldn’t change anything about you. You’ll probably never believe that, but it’s the truth.”

One day, she hoped he would feel the same about her.

After she shampooed his hair, breathing in the scent of sandalwood, she tilted him backward and rinsed every strand. When she finished with him, she gently shook him awake. Or maybe he’d been awake the entire time. His eyes were no longer glassy; they were blazing.

Her cheeks flushed. “Can you get out on your own?”

Yes. He climbed out and settled back on the floor, lying on his side to peer over at her. Your turn to scrub up.

The flush spread as she washed herself from top to bottom. Despite her embarrassment, the water soothed the little aches and pains that continuous walking and sporadic fighting—and nearly being eaten alive—had left.

Haidee? Amun said after she’d rinsed her hair.

The water splashed as she straightened. She leaned over the edge and stared down at her mighty warrior. His eyes were closed again, lines of tension branching from them. “Yes?”

Come here and hold me.

For a heartbeat of time, she could only gape at him. He had just requested her touch? No, not requested. Demanded. Such sweet progress already, and his true seduction hadn’t even begun.

“Anything you want,” she rushed out before he could change his mind. Naked and dripping, she moved out of the water. She didn’t bother drying off but curled into his side, spooning him, resting her cheek on his outstretched arm.

He didn’t draw her closer.

She didn’t let that irk her. Much. She linked their fingers, and though the action wasn’t meant to arouse either of them, it did exactly that. His penis grew and hardened against the crease of her bottom, and liquid need pooled between her legs. God, she wanted to arch back, grind into him, beg him to grind into her, but she didn’t. Not even when his heat wrapped around her, far headier than it had been in the water, the force of it causing her to tremble.

Not yet, girl. Not yet. He wasn’t ready for her seduction to begin. That tension… Soon, though. Please, God, soon. “You’re not mad at me for bashing your skull in, are you?”

She didn’t expect an answer, but a soft chuckle wafted through her mind. I’m grateful. I’m just too weak to show you how much.

Show her, he’d said. How? “I’m glad,” she said, suddenly breathless. “Now go to sleep and rebuild your strength.” You’re going to need it. She kissed the inside of his wrist. “I’ll be here when you wake up.” And by that time, she would be doing things to his body that he would never be able to forget—things he wouldn’t want her to stop doing.

Unaware of the sensual assault he would soon experience, he obeyed her, his breathing evening out as he drifted back to sleep.

AMUN’S MIND JOLTED into sudden awareness, three things instantly, absolutely certain to him. His body was on fire, his cock was being iced and he was loving the hell out of both. He jerked upright, panting, wondering if he’d had an erotic dream and embarrassed himself.

When he saw a lusciously naked Haidee planted between his legs, licking his hardened shaft from root to tip, then swirling her tongue over the slit, then moaning as if she’d tasted something sweet, he realized he hadn’t been dreaming. He hadn’t embarrassed himself, either, but was probably going to.

He wanted to come. Desperately.

Secrets was eerily silent, and hiding in the back of his mind. The other demons were silent and hiding, as well. Again. That icy chill of hers must truly scare them. That, or they feared she’d start doing that tugging thing and they were trying not to draw her notice.

Sweetheart?

Haidee paused, lifting her head away from him, and every cell he possessed screamed in protest. Cool breath tickled his skin as she offered him a wicked smile, her breasts firm and taunting, her nipples hard and pouting, almost close enough to rub against his thighs.

“Yes, baby?” she asked throatily.

I—I—Shit! He didn’t know what to say to her. Except, maybe, continue. But he couldn’t allow her to do this. She would regret it, and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

“You’re awake, right? You’re not in danger of falling back asleep?”

I’m only in danger of dying.

“Too weak, then?”

No.

The huskiness of her laugh echoed between them. “Do you want me to stop?”

Yes.

“Really?”

She gave him another lick and he was rushing out, No. No, I don’t want you to stop. Oh, gods, he thought. Yes, you have to stop.

She blew on the weeping tip of his shaft. “What if I don’t want to stop?”

Oh, gods, he thought again. The torture…the pleasure…the possible repercussions…he’d never been this torn.

“Amun, darling, say the word and I’ll suck you so deep you’ll feel my throat closed around you for days.” Another chilly breath coasted over his slit. “I’ve been thinking about this, needing it. Craving it. Let me have it.”

His resistance shattered. Do it. Please, do it. You can blame me later. Hate me later, but please don’t stop. He didn’t care about later, didn’t care that he was begging. He had to have this, couldn’t exist another moment without it.

“I will, I’ll do it,” she said, fingers tracing up one side of his shaft, then down the other. “And I promise I’ll blame you later.”

He knew he should be concerned but couldn’t manage the emotion. Sweat beaded over him in an effort to purge the intensity of his hunger. She hadn’t fit her mouth back over his length, but her breath still stroked him. So good, felt so good. And then that was the only word he could say. Good. He was trembling, aching, desperate. Good, good, good.

Her voice lowered. “I’ll blame you because you’re too beautiful to resist. Because you think of my well-being even when you’re in danger yourself. Because you’re mine. My warrior. My…demon.”

The admission affected him as potently as her actions, and he found new words to give her. You’re killing me, sweetheart. You’re killing me, yes, yes, yes, please kill me. Any moment and he would start arching his hips, thrusting up, unable to stop himself.

Her wicked grin returned. “Lie back and conserve your strength, baby. Sweet little Haidee’s gonna do all the work.”

He didn’t lie back. He’d been yearning for this forever. Yearning for her forever. He wanted to see every move she made. Like this. Just like this.

“Whatever my warrior desires…” Lips of scarlet at last closed over the tip of him. She moaned in delight.

His back bowed. Her cold little tongue flicked the slit it had suckled only moments before, and he had to brace his arms behind him to remain upright. Down, down she sucked him, taking every inch, just as she’d promised, not backing off even when he hit deeper than she’d probably wanted him to go.

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 finally 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.

All the while she licked at him, she nibbled, her hips undulating over his legs, searching for something to fill 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 lollipop licks continued, he tossed another image into her mind. One of his head buried between her thighs, sampling all 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, swallow 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 kills me. And it just might. You taste so damn good.” With that, her mouth plunged, once again taking his entire length.

Amun finally let go of the gossamer threads of his control. He fell 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, allowing 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 hollowed as she swallowed, taking everything he had to give and still demanding more.

She wrung him dry, reduced him to a shell of himself, and he sagged against the ground. She didn’t pull from him right away, but licked and purred as if unwilling 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—eventually—and could have finally possessed her completely. But she wanted to call 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 fell 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 walls 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 walls, 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 collapsed on top of him, panting, eyes closed, skin sheened by a delicate layer of ice.

Amun was panting just as forcefully. What had just happened…he’d never experienced anything like it. That hadn’t been the simple fulfillment 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 willingness 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 hell, 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. Finally.

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’ll 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.