“You told me you loved him.”
“I told you I loved how he worked my body.” She swiped her thumb over the head of his erection, spreading the glistening drop and lubricating her strokes. “But sex and lust are not the same as love.”
Arawn unleashed a single sharpened nail and slit the silver gown she wore. With a smile on her lips, she released his shaft long enough for him to yank off the lacy fabric. The swell of her breasts lured him. He didn’t fight the urge to touch her. Her body was his to enjoy, just as his belonged to her.
He bent and latched on to her breast. With flicks of his tongue and nips of his teeth, he teased her until she squirmed in his embrace.
The scent of her arousal grew. He inhaled deeply, and the evidence of her desire filled his lungs, drugging and enflaming him.
He wanted to devour her.
He eased back, ready to make the thought a reality, but she fisted his hair, stopping him and holding him inches from her breasts.
“More, my mate.”
Not on her terms. After a century together, he knew what she craved, and he’d give it to her.
He shook his head and straightened, forcing her to either release him or rip his hair from his scalp. She loosened her hold but didn’t let him go. She stood on her tiptoes and curled her hand around the back of his neck.
“Arawn.”
A demand. A plea. He heard both in her tone. The compulsion to satisfy her needs took hold, a consequence of their mate bond and his love.
“Not yet, my mate. Let me look upon you.”
He grasped her wrist and tugged her hand off him. A resigned sigh fell from her lips as if being the center of his world was a burden she was forced to bear, yet her eyes darkened with lust and a pleased smile flitted across her sultry mouth.
“Then, look”—she stepped back and dropped her arms, putting herself on display for him—“and yearn.”
He did. Every moment of every day, he craved her presence. If he had the choice, he’d stay within arm’s reach of her for eternity. His obligations forced him to distance himself from her healing touch. He couldn’t punish the multitude of sinners who entered his realm if he couldn’t hear the pleas of their victims. Only Minerva silenced their screams, giving him relief from the constant onslaught.
“Yearn for you as you long for me?” he asked.
“Yes.” Minerva swept her gaze over him in a slow visual worship that set him on fire. His cock thickened more under her study. She focused on his hard length and licked her lips. “You know I do. You’ve healed parts of me I hadn’t known were damaged.”
Which was why she stayed. They complemented each other in ways neither of them had expected.
Hands clenched at his sides to stop himself from pulling her into his embrace, he motioned toward her with a jerk of his chin. “Turn. I want to see all of you.”
The order he’d given to her all those years ago brought back the memory of their first time together. He embraced the recollection, allowing it to guide him into what might be their final night together.
She raised a brow.
He growled. “If you have not realized where you are, this is Hell. I rule here, and my commands are to be obeyed immediately. Now, turn.”
With her lower lip caught between her teeth, she dropped her gaze and complied with his demand, slowly spinning on her heel. The ends of her silver hair swayed. A tinkling sound accompanied the move, and the flickering lights from the candles illuminating the room reflected on the strands, making her appear as if she carried her own inner light. The sight entranced him. He allowed the spell she wove to mesmerize him for another moment before shifting his focused stare to her rounded bottom. The ends of her hair caressed her ass cheeks. Soft yet firm, she was made for loving.
Made for him.
She wasn’t. He knew that. It didn’t stop the wonder he experienced in her presence from seizing him.
He closed the distance between them but didn’t touch her. He curled his hands until his nails dug into his palm. Head bent, he buried his nose in the fall of her hair. A deep inhale satisfied his craving for her scent. She smelled of life and goodness.
Everything he was not.
With his mouth at her ear, he whispered, “You tempt me, goddess.”
“How? I have not spoken.” She repeated the response she’d given him all those years ago.
Pleased she picked up on his prompting, he captured her earlobe between his teeth and nibbled on her tender flesh until her air escaped on a slow exhale, and her body relaxed against his.
He released her lobe, then pressed his lips to her neck. “You stand before me naked and aroused.”
“You too are naked and aroused, my dark lord. The fact that I am should please you.”
“It does not.”
She turned her head, and her glowing gray eyes filled his vision. “And why not?”
He ran his hand over her hair. His fingers itched with the desire to wrap her shimmering locks around his palm. He dropped his arm.
“You make me want things I shouldn’t.”
She dragged the tip of her tongue across her upper lip. “Do I?”
“Yes.”
“Then take me.” Minerva leaned closer, her mouth a hairbreadth from his. “My body is yours to use. I will not stop you.”
He stepped around her and walked to the foot of the bed. The mirrored wall opposite him offered a perfect view of the goddess behind him. He caught and held her reflected gaze. “I am the Lord of the Underworld. I was created for one purpose—to punish the damned. Your presence distracts me from my duty.”
“Distracts?” She approached him,
