The Darkest Night

hands tangled in his hair, gripping, pulling him closer. Their teeth banged together; the kiss continued…never stopped…lasted forever…a kiss of sorcery and dreams and fire.

Yes, fire. There was so much fire. White-hot. Blistering. An inferno inside of him. He bit her lower lip, couldn't have stopped himself even if he'd wanted to, which he no longer did. A bead of blood leaked onto his tongue. He savored the metallic taste.

Good, so good.

She moaned and bit him back, returning the darkness of his passion with a fervor that surprised him. Gentle, calm. He gripped her cheeks and forced—gently, calmly—her head to the side. Licking and nipping his way down her jaw, her collarbone, was almost his undoing. Her skin was like a drug and one little taste beckoned him to take more, do more. Experience all.

She arched against him, panting. She pulled back, panting still. She arched against him again. His erection probed between her legs, desperate to enter.

No, not yet. Innocent, remember? She is innocent.

Her teeth sank into his collarbone, and he almost came. Almost spilled then and there. She was wild, frantic for release. Her fingers moved to his back and squeezed, kneaded. Her nails scored his skin.

He didn't think she was aware of her actions. Her head was thrashing from side to side and her eyes were closed. 'I'll make you come,' he told her, fighting for his own control.

'Yes. Come.' She released him to grip her own breasts, to pinch the nipples between her fingers.

He'd never seen a more erotic sight.

'Just touch me,' she commanded roughly. 'Don't stop touching me.'

'Will. Need…a moment.' He closed his fingers over his erection, knowing he'd spread her and take her if he didn't. He pumped once, twice. Hissed in a breath.

'Maddox. Hurry!'

'With my hands or mouth?' he asked, the words barely audible. The water was beating against her, slipping and sliding down her abdomen, daring him to follow and drink.

'Wh-what?' She pried open her eyes, looking at him, looking at herself. When she realized what she was doing with her hands, she dropped her arms to her sides and blushed.

'Should I touch you with my hands or my mouth?' He continued pumping his own hand down his swollen length, wishing it were her hand. Or her mouth. Her body.

'Hands?'

He didn't know a lot about humans, but he recognized her true desire. She wanted his mouth to finish her. He wanted it, too. The need probably embarrassed her; well, he would conquer that soon enough.

He dropped to his knees a second time.

'What are you doing?' she whispered, scandalized. In the undercurrents of her voice, however, were tendrils of excitement.

Rather than answer, he licked her right where she needed him. It was something he'd wanted to do to a woman for years but hadn't dared risk, too afraid of Violence's reaction. In that moment, he was too enthralled to be afraid, and suddenly he was glad that he had waited. Ashlyn tasted of pure, innocent female. She tasted of honey. Passion and slick heat. Drugging, addicting. His.

'Mouth,' she gasped out. 'Mouth. Changed my mind.'

He licked her again and her belly quivered. She flattened her palms on the tile beside her, holding herself up. Her hips arched forward, seeking more of his tongue. He gave it to her. Spreading her with one hand and pumping his shaft with the other, he sucked on her hot center. She moaned, she undulated, she writhed.

'More?' he asked.

'More. Yes. Please.'

She was close, so close. He could feel her rushing toward release, could taste the abundance of sweetness. Bite. The urge scared him. He stopped moving. She screamed in frustration, and he clamped his jaw in aroused pain.

Droplets of water fell from his eyelashes onto his chin. He wanted to brush them away, to see her more clearly, but didn't want to move either of his hands. Air burned his throat, his lungs. 'Tell me you want me.' While I calm down.

'I want you,' Ashlyn all but shouted. She stared down at him, as if she couldn't believe they were having this conversation here and now.

'Tell me you need me.'

'I need you.'

'Tell me you'll never betray me.'

'I'll never betray you.'

At least she hadn't hesitated. Something inside him softened, melted. 'Where do you want to be?' he asked, the words almost a plea. Need me as much as I need you.

Maybe it was the water. Maybe it was the steam. Her eyes seemed to mist over, a curtain of vulnerability falling over her face. 'With you,' she replied. 'Only with you.'

Both man and spirit were staggered by the magic of her words. Humbled. Maddox again buried his face between her legs, tongue burrowing deeper than before. She sighed in ecstasy, one of her legs curling around his back. Her heel dug into his shoulder, but he didn't care. Even liked it.

Her desire flowed down his throat as he nibbled on her. Couldn't stop himself now. Was helpless against his actions. He didn't want to hurt her, and neither did the spirit. For once in accord, both wanted only to pleasure her.

She reached the edge. Fell. The orgasm rocked her entire body. Her inner walls clamped down on his tongue, holding him captive in those gates to heaven. And when she shouted his name, he came. Hot seed spurted from him and onto the tub. His body jerked, muscles gripping bone in an iron clasp. Nothing had ever felt so right. Nothing had ever felt so perfect.

Seconds—minutes? hours?—passed. In that timeless eternity he became Pleasure. He wasn't a being ruled by Violence. He was simply a man who craved this woman. A man who lived in a world where light always stamped out darkness and good always conquered evil.

If only…

When he opened his eyes, he was once again Maddox. Once again a man ruled by darkness, living in a world  where midnight always triumphed and evil laughed in the face of good.

He was still on his knees. Ashlyn was still in front of him. He could hear her panting rasps and realized he was panting himself. He stood, disconcerted to note his legs hadn't stopped shaking.

Neither had Ashlyn's. Her eyelids were closed, lashes in wet spikes. There was a blissful, satisfied aura surrounding her, but he couldn't dislodge the sudden thought that he'd been too rough, that he could have been gentler. Tried harder.

'Please look at me,' he said.

Like butterfly wings, her lashes fluttered open. Those amber orbs gazed up at him, and she nibbled on her bottom lip, expression uncertain. 'Yes?'

'Did I hurt you?' Worse, 'Do you regret?'

'No and no.' She smiled that radiant smile of hers, sunshine in the tenebrous recesses of night.

'How are you still a virgin?' he asked, dazed.

Slowly, her smile faded. Embarrassment clouded her eyes, darkening the brown to a churning black tempest. 'I don't want to talk about it.'

'Please.'

She peered down at her feet, hiding the emotion, the storm. 'I never should have told you to ask rather than demand. It's irresistible!'

He would have to remember that.

'Maybe I should have told you earlier, before we… But…'

His stomach pitched. Should he want to hear her confession, whatever it was? Yes. Did he? No. Not now. He turned the water off and crowded her against the tile. He couldn't predict the spirit's reaction to being told this lushly beautiful creature had conspired against him. 'Ashlyn—'

'No,' she said with a shake of her head. 'Hear me out. Just promise not to hate me, okay, and try to