The Darkest Seduction

“Paris,” Sienna breathed.

A needy plea for more? That’s what his demon heard in her tremulous tone. Paris found himself leaning down, the rest of the world forgotten, his nose in her hair as he sniffed the heavy waves. He scented the wildflowers and the coconut, now mixed with something rare, a bloom found only at night.

Oh, hell, yes. That was her arousal.

Sex liked it, too, tossing out his own special fragrance. The two combined, the most wondrous bouquet enveloping Paris. Wondrous—and torturous. Instantly he was revved up, more than primed, more than ready, desperate to sink inside this woman and thrust his way to orgasm. All he had to do was rip open both their pants and kick her legs apart. He’d drill her deep and sure. She would be hot, dripping and so tight around him.

Sharp little nails burrowed past his shirt and into his skin, as if to hold him in place. He could feel the heat of her, pulsing, seeping into him, blending with his own and lancing straight to his cock. He ached unbearably. Before he even registered that he’d moved, he’d edged her legs apart with his foot and arched into her, fitting his erection against her feminine core.

Hello, sweet damnation. Either he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life, or the best. They fit together like matching puzzle pieces. He rubbed against her, slowly at first, just enough to tease and tantalize them both. The pleasure built, right alongside the pressure. Yeah, he definitely should have taken her earlier. His demon was ready to burst free of his skin.

Paris couldn’t gauge Sienna’s reaction through sound because of the surrounding screams, so he moved one of his hands to her throat, keeping his touch gentle. Nothing could stop him from feeling her moans, and the vibrations were so damn gorgeous.

“Paris.” Her lips pressed against his ear. Definitely not a plea this time, but not a warning, either. “You can’t want me.”

He circled his hips, pressing, retreating, pressing. “What is this, then?”

“A treat for the only available woman in the room.”

The words were like a slap across the face, and his volatile inner darkness responded poorly, rampaging through him and demanding he hurt the one who’d harmed him. He bit back the urge and snapped, “So a guy like me can only want what’s available?”

“You didn’t want me before, in the room. So maybe this is punishment.” Anger threaded her tone.

Punishment? His hands clenched in reflex, his own anger becoming an echo of hers.

Sadly, she wasn’t done. “Believe me, I understand the concept far better than I ever did. Maybe you didn’t come here to save me, after all, but to wound me the same way I once wounded you.”

He hadn’t trusted her, couldn’t, no matter how badly he’d wanted to, and even told himself he did, and now he saw that she couldn’t, wouldn’t, trust him, either. Not really. He’d suspected this would happen. That hadn’t bothered him (much) before, but it bothered him now. He hated that there were so many barriers between them. Clothes, reservations, doubts and worries.

“I’m nothing like the women you’re used to,” she went on. “I know that. I know that I’m not pretty.”

“You’re right. You’re beyond gorgeous.”

A gasp. “A-and my lips are ridiculous.”

“If ridiculous is the new word for a wet dream.”

Her little fists hammered at his chest. “Stop! Just stop. You need sex and you’re trying to make a sale. I did the same to you earlier, wanting to be with you one last time. I shouldn’t have thrown myself at you like that.”

His back straightened. She had offered herself to him, not because she had felt guilty, but because she had wanted him. She should not have admitted that. There would be no stopping him now. He would have her, one way or another.

He licked at her lips, saying, “Baby, I’ve never had to try. I breathe, and the women offer.”

The abuse stopped, a mewling sound leaving her. “You’re—you’re trying to put me in my place, then. Trying to tease me with what I can never fully have.”

Oh, you can have it, all right. “You know that’s not true. Not because you trust me, but because of your demon.” Wrath would have been all over any deception on Paris’s part.

A pause the agonizing length of three heartbeats. “You’re…right. How odd,” she said, both awed and hopeful. Her nails once again found purchase in his chest. “I hated the fact that a demon was placed inside me, wanted to be free of him, ranted and railed and even planned to give him back, and yet I’ve begun to count on his ability to read other people’s intentions.”

Once possessed, always possessed. For the most part, anyway. So give Wrath back to Aeron? That would be a big fat hell, no. That would kill her. Again. “You can believe me when I say that I do want you, Sienna. You’re all I’ve thought about for months. Resisting you in that room was one of the toughest things I’ve ever done.”

A vibration in her throat signaled her moan. “You’re really attracted to me, despite everything?” Wonder saturated her voice, dripping over him like warm honey.

He had a thing for warm honey.

“Yes.” Backward, forward he arched, renewing the decadent contact. He wanted to push for more still, but didn’t. Not yet. He wanted her focused only on the pleasure, all her fears about ulterior motives assuaged. “Let there be no doubt on that score.”

Another vibration, this one reaching a deeper part of him. “Why me?” Her nails plucked free of his chest, her hands smoothing over him. “I mean, you could have anyone.”

“Exactly. I could, and I chose you. For so many reasons. You’re smart.”

“Debatable.”

“You’re witty.”

“No more than a thousand others.”

“You’re argumentative and can’t accept a compliment.”

“Hey!” She reached up and tugged at his hair.

Despite the grimness of their surroundings and circumstances, he found himself grinning. “You’re beautiful.”

Her fingers slid to his scalp, massaging. “Not just beyond gorgeous?” she asked dryly.

“You’re exquisite, and I don’t want to hear you put yourself down again. Do you understand?” He had killed others for doing so. Her, he would simply spank. “You may or may not be happy with the results.”

“Why? Are you thinking paddling? Because I’m getting a few images in my head.”

“Well, well. There’s something else to like about you. You understand me.”

A snort. One he relished, because he had caused the humor behind it. “You must be blinded by horny demon-colored glasses,” she said.

And she thought there were thousands of others just as stubborn as she was. He’d just issued an order alongside a threat, yet she had ignored both and continued on her merry way.

“Has your demon ever let you be with the same woman twice?” she asked, the words layered with a husky edge of arousal, as well as a note of nervousness. “I’d heard you— Never mind.”

She had gotten a lot of her info from the Hunters. He stiffened, hating the reminder of her past, but that didn’t stop him from admitting, “No one but you.”

The warmth of her breath trekked over his neck as she angled her head, placing them cheek to cheek. “Why me?”

“Don’t know. Sex doesn’t know, either. I’ve asked.”

“Well, he should have picked someone else. I have small breasts,” she whispered, as though ashamed.

He cupped the pint-size morsels in question. They. Were. Perfect. His hands were big, her nipples beading against the centers of his palms, and damn if that wasn’t the most exquisite sensation in the world. He fit his lips against her ear, nibbled on the lobe.

“I want them in my mouth,” he rasped.

A groan of approval. Nails in his scalp now, digging deeper and deeper.

Paris kissed and licked his way to her lips. They were parted, warm, the sweetness of her breath sawing in and out, scented with the spice of coconut. He hovered there, still not taking what he wanted. What they both wanted. If he started this, he was going to have a hard time stopping. A very hard time. He’d been without a female for too long, and his demon was too needy, but…