The Darkest Night

was Maddox used to? He was immortal, after all, and had probably been with thousands of beautiful females.

Her hands fisted. Irrational though it was, the thought of him with someone else really pissed her off.

'Ashlyn,' Maddox said, snapping her from her musings.

'What?'

'Mind on the task at hand,' he said dryly.

Her lips inched into a smile. 'Sorry. I got distracted.' She'd have to learn to control her own thoughts, now that silence was a part of her life.

'Let me help you. Please.'

Every time he uttered the word please she melted, wanting to give him all that he desired and more. She nodded.

His hands closed over hers, and there was that thrilling shock that always followed his touch. She'd expected it this time, but was still unprepared for its ripple effect. Pearled nipples, a warm rush between her legs.

He didn't wait for permission but gripped the tank and lifted.

'Wait,' she said.

Instantly, he ceased moving.

'I need to prepare you.' He was about to see her underwear—another embarrassing topic. They were plain white cotton. Granny gear, she'd once heard a man say. She never wore sexy clothing, even underclothing, while on the job. It just wasn't practical. 'I do own sexy underwear, I promise, but I'm not wearing it right now.'

'That is supposed to disgust me?' Maddox asked, sounding genuinely confused. 'That you aren't wearing sexy underwear?'

'I don't know.' She chewed on her lower lip. 'Maybe. Does it?'

'Ashlyn, whatever you're wearing will not matter to me. You will not be wearing it for long. Ready now?' he asked.

Swallowing, she nodded.

He tugged the tank over her head and tossed it on the floor beside her T-shirt. She shivered. 'W-well?'

'Well?'

'Ugly?' she asked.

'Lovely,' Maddox replied. He sucked in a—reverent?—breath and her blood caught fire. He reached out with a shaky hand and traced the plain cotton that shielded her nipples. Though already hard, they strained toward him.

Ashlyn moaned at the decadence.

He trailed his fingers down her stomach and gripped the waist of her jeans. A twist of his wrist, and they were unsnapped. She could feel the heat of his skin all the way to her bones.

He slid the jeans over her hips, past her knees and to the floor. 'Step out of them.'

Legs shaky, she did as commanded. His gaze locked on her white cotton panties. She fought the urge to cover them, wishing again that he could see her in something sexy. 'I know men like to role-play,' she told him, nervously trying to fill the silence. How many times had she heard them brag about it to their friends? 'At home I have a cop outfit, a harem girl costume and a Playboy Bunny teddy.' Not that she'd ever gotten to use them. But she loved owning them, just in case.

'That's nice.' Maddox sounded unimpressed.

'Maybe I can, I don't know, show you sometime.'

'Take the bra and panties off.' His expression was disappointingly blank as he straightened.

Maybe he didn't care what she wore.

As he waited for her to obey, he reached behind him and jerked his T-shirt over his head. She gasped in surprise, in delight, and forgot about how ugly her panties were—but she still didn't remove them. Or the bra. She was too busy staring.

Maddox was absolutely magnificent. The scabs had already disappeared, leaving only faint red lines. Rope after rope of bronzed muscle offered a feast for her eyes. He had an innie bellybutton and a faint dusting of black hair that led straight into the waist of his pants.

Never taking his eyes from her face, he unfastened his pants and shoved them down the long, solid length of his legs until they, too, pooled on the floor.

He wasn't wearing any underwear.

Her eyes widened and her mouth dried. He was huge. Long and thick and sublimely aroused. She'd seen the male penis in books, on Web sites she shouldn't have visited and movies she shouldn't have watched, but never in person. Never like this. His testicles were drawn up tight and surrounded by coarse dark hair.

'I believe I gave you a specific task,' he said, his pointed gaze between her legs making her quake deliciously.

Need flooded her, more intense than ever before. The need to touch and be touched, to taste and be tasted, consumed her. A sharp ache pounded through her. 'Are we really going to have sex?' she asked breathlessly, hopefully.

'Oh, yes,' he replied, stalking toward her. 'Oh, yes, beauty, we really are.'

CHAPTER TWELVE

Maddox gripped Ashlyn under her arms and lifted her off the floor. He tore the center of her bra apart with his teeth. The buttery material ripped easily and fell open, revealing the sexiest pair of breasts he'd ever seen.

They were a little fuller than a handful, with rosy-tipped nipples begging to be sampled. He couldn't hold back a moment longer. Everything inside him cracked, needing contact. Beyond desperate.

He sucked one hard bud into his mouth, surrounding it with hot, wet intensity. Ashlyn moaned. She threw back her head and arched toward him, a plea for more. He let his tongue dabble, flicking back and forth, then sampled the other one, giving it the same treatment.

His blood burned for more, but he set her back on her feet and pushed her toward the sink. Soon. Without a word, he handed her the toothbrush he'd acquired for her earlier and claimed his own. He wanted to be perfect for her.

She appeared dazed, wobbly, as she stared at it in confusion. Slowly her cheeks pinkened in embarrassment. Why? They brushed their teeth and used the mouthwash in silence. Afterward, Ashlyn stood in front of the mirror, gripping the sink as if she didn't know what to do next and was afraid to ask.

'Off,' he said, pinching the top of her panties. 'Please.'

She appeared nervous as she slid them over her hips and stepped out of them.

Gods. He nearly crumpled to the floor in a blubbering, thankful heap. A small triangle of honey-colored hair, deliciously rounded thighs. Nostrils flaring at the beauty of her, he once again picked her up. This time, however, he placed her inside the tub and pulled the curtain around them. She gasped when the water hit her, and then she groaned in ecstasy as the heat pounded gently at her skin. He wished he had caused that groan.

Soon, he promised himself again. Soon.

He stepped in behind her. She was already soaked, hair plastered to the elegant slope of her back. Her bottom was perfectly curved, full enough to overflow in his hands. He liked that, liked that she wasn't skin and bones.

'So lovely,' he said, but doubt suddenly filled him. Should he turn her around, or hold her like this? Should he lay her down or let her stand? His first shower with a woman, and he wasn't exactly sure of the best way to go about it.

Mine. Do… everything.

As instinct and thousands of years of fantasies took over, he closed all hint of distance between them and rubbed his erection in the crevice of her ass. She gave a shuddering gasp. He reached around her and grabbed the pine-scented bar of soap he used every morning to wash away the lingering effects of his midnight trials.

She tried to turn around, to face him, but he locked her in place by resting his chin on top of her head. At first