He wanted this. Giving him what he wanted was part of the seduction, right? She was chained and helpless and she couldn’t be blamed if she did whatever it took to get free and protect Kynan. Besides, Lore was Primori, and she couldn’t betray the Memitim/Primori relationship by denying something her charge wanted.

The reasonings were pathetically weak, but it was all she had and she was starving for this and she barked out a desperate, “Yes!”

His smile was one of primal male triumph. His fingers began a furious, deep pumping rhythm, and his thumb circled and swept. It had been so long since she’d experienced this that it all felt new and wondrous, and she was absolutely certain that the best full-on sex she’d had hadn’t been this good.

Lore added another finger, increased the pressure with his thumb, and her body went wild, thrashing as she detonated. Colors swirled behind her eyelids like a kaleidoscope, carrying her through the ecstasy as his hand worked its magic. He brought her down with gradually lighter strokes, until finally she could breathe—and see—again.

“Beautiful,” he whispered. His half-lidded gaze was intent, awed, and so full of hunger that her body instantly sparked to life again. “God, you’re—” He broke off with a wince. Tiny pinpoints of crimson peppered his dark eyes as he glanced at the bathroom.

“I… I have to—” He swallowed, and when he spoke again, his voice was so deep and gravelly that she felt it inside, almost as though that tone was meant to prepare a woman for penetration. “Need… privacy.” He shoved to his hands and knees above her.

“No. Please. Stay.” Shockingly, he halted. “I want… I want to watch.” I don’t want to be alone. Alone meant time to think. And regret.

A low growl of approval dredged up from his chest as he unzipped his pants.

* * *

Lore couldn’t believe he was about to do this. He’d never had any sexual hangups—well, other than the fact that sex tended to kill his partners, but still. He’d never jerked off in front of anyone before. And though Idess’s request had been a massive turn-on, his hand was shaking as he undid his fly.

So maybe he did have hangups.

“Shit,” he growled. “I can’t.” He started to climb off the bed.

“Please?” Idess lay there, all sprawled out, relaxed, sated, the scent of sex coming off her and wreaking havoc on his libido.

He wanted to be inside her, not touching himself in a dark bathroom like some sort of pervert, while she was just feet away. But he also had no experience being so… sexual… in front of a female. Oh, he had arrogance in spades and overactive male instincts roaring through him, but he also wasn’t sure stroking himself while a bound female watched was something he could do.

“You’re embarrassed?” The surprise in her voice lashed at his already shredded control.

“I’m not a f**king virgin.”

“You haven’t been with many females, though, have you?”

Now that was just insulting. He’d been with some. He just hadn’t been with any more than once. And those he had been with were all about instant gratification—get in and out with no playtime. No real touching.

No connection.

This… this would be a connection. He didn’t know why or how, but it would. He just felt it. And feeling anything for this woman would be bad. That he did know.

“It’s okay,” she said softly. “You don’t have to answer. And you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

The fact that she was being so nice to him, was so concerned about his feelings, pissed him off. He’d just turned the tables on her, chained her up, could do anything he wanted to her… Biting back a nasty curse, he adjusted his erection, even as the pressure built under his skin and in his balls. “Why? Why do you want to watch?”

“Because,” she said in a husky voice, “you’re beautiful, too.”

His heart tripped over her words, and warmth spread through him. No one had ever complimented him like that, with such… reverence.

Ruthlessly shoving his reservations aside, he gripped his shaft with his bare hand. He heard her soft intake of breath, the little hitch that somehow turned him on more than anything ever had. His stomach tightened and he had trouble breathing, and holy shit, having her watch… a total turn-on he hadn’t anticipated. Now that his power was no longer contained by the Bracken Cuffs, all he had to worry about was keeping his right arm away from her when he came.

“See?” Her voice was hoarse. “Not so hard, is it?”

“Oh, it’s hard,” he ground out, and her lips quirked in a smile.

“And big.”

His c**k pulsed as though happy with the compliment. Damned thing was too stupid to realize she was doing what he’d done—toss out niceties to get on the captor’s good side. Not that what she’d said wasn’t true.

“You say the nicest things.”

Completely at ease now, he ran his bare hand up and down, loving how altering the speed or the length of the strokes made her eyelids grow heavy, or how, when he changed it up even more and twisted his fist around the head, her mouth would fall all the way open. And Jesus, when he rubbed the cap with the flat of his palm, she actually licked her lips.

Emboldened, he moved closer, teasing her with the sight of his cock. “You like this, don’t you?” Her eyes flew up to his. “Tell me what you want me to do.” When her mouth worked but nothing came out, he smiled and stopped stroking. “What’s the matter? You embarrassed?”

Anger sparked in those amazing rum-colored depths, and along with it, the light of battle. Freaking hot.

“Stroke.” The command might have been more effective if there hadn’t been a slight quaver in her voice, but he did as she’d ordered. Slowly.

“How’s that?”

“Faster.”

Suppressing a groan, he increased the speed, but not by much.

“I said, faster. And… and do that twisty thing you do when your hand is at the top.”

He would have laughed at the cute fierceness in her voice, if he wasn’t too busy holding back his orgasm. Perspiration beaded on his forehead as he clenched his teeth and panted through the growing pressure.

“Stop,” she said, and damn her, he barely had the control to obey. “Slide your hand down. To your… your balls.” Splotches of pink colored her cheeks. She was powerful and sexy, yet the word “balls” made her blush.

Lore loved that.

He let his palm ride slowly down his shaft. By the time he reached his sac, his c**k was aching. “Now what?”

“Rub them,” she said breathlessly. “Pretend I—a female was doing it.”

Closing his eyes, he cursed, because it was so easy to pretend it was her warm palm cupping him, rolling his balls gently between her fingers as she’d done before. She made him play for a minute, and just as he was about to beg her to let him do more, she said, “Now. Make yourself come.” Her voice lowered dangerously. Seductively. “On me.”

Surprise shot through him and the cl**ax came on its heels, her words sparking a chain reaction that went nuclear. He barely had time to fall forward to brace himself on his right arm, keeping it well out of the range of her touch as he pumped his seed onto her hard, flat abs. His vision went completely offline as pleasure short-circuited a couple of his senses, including his hearing, because he heard Idess talking but had no idea what she was saying. He just wanted her to keep saying it, because her voice was an aphrodisiac, and his orgasm went on and on…

Finally, as his trembling arm threatened to collapse under his weight, it ended. His head swam and his breath felt like fire in his throat. He opened his eyes and met Idess’s.

“I’m so jealous,” she whispered, and he blinked.

“Of what?”

Her head fell back on the pillow, and she stared up at the ceiling with the saddest eyes he’d ever seen. “You’re so alive, Lore. There’s fire in you. A will to live, when all I want is to be done with this life.”

An unfamiliar emotion clogged Lore’s throat, cutting off his breath. A will to live? He couldn’t care less about his own life. What he did care about was Sin, and making sure she never had to be owned again. Until that happened, he had to hang on. She was one of the reasons he’d hoped his brothers didn’t turn out to be total shits, and that she’d get to know them. She needed someone to take care of her. Someone better than Lore.

“Don’t be jealous of me,” he croaked. “There is nothing about me you should envy. I’m a terrible person.”

A smile trembled on her lips. “Your choices are terrible, but a terrible person wouldn’t love your sister the way you do.”

He didn’t buy that, not by a long shot. But strangely, Idess was right about one thing. He was alive—at least, now he was. For the first time since going through the transition that had turned him into a cold killer, he felt a spark. The banter with Idess energized him. Their battles challenged him. The sex excited him. Sure, none of that had happened under ideal conditions, but he had to wonder what things would be like between them if they weren’t going head to head over Kynan.

And if she wasn’t chained up.

He stifled an insane laugh, because all of that was a dream, and he’d never been a dreamer. Besides, once Kynan was dead, Lore figured his brothers—or Idess—would make sure he never dreamed again.

* * *

Who in their right mind built a medical facility for demons? It was a question Rariel had asked since the day he’d heard about Underworld General, and as he searched for the Harrowgate’s UGH symbol, he found he was actually curious about it.

UGH. He had to chuckle at the utter lack of forethought someone had displayed when he’d named the hospital. Moron.

This would be the sixth time he’d been there, though the first five times he hadn’t even stepped out of the Harrowgate. He’d simply opened it up, let Roag out or in, and continued. Apparently, the curse Roag’s brother had saddled him with had left the shriveled demon not only invisible to most, but without the ability to manipulate objects like the Harrowgate or doors, which made travel difficult.

Poor guy. Being betrayed by a sibling was the worst pain one could experience, and Rariel knew that first-hand.

He cast a sympathetic glance at Roag, who appeared to Rariel as a transparent specter, not nearly as solid as spirits were. And, unlike spirits, Roag’s only communication with Rariel came telepathically.

“Are you ready?” Rariel asked.

Yes.

Rariel tapped the hospital glyph with anticipation. This time, he was going to deliver his traveler and hang out. Observe. Plot.

The gate opened, and he stepped out. The emergency room was bustling, but he doubted anyone else could see that.

Most of the people milling around were ghosts, and as Roag entered the hospital, those spirits went mad. Some fled, some cowered, some stood in place and wailed until Rariel wanted to clap his hands over his ears.

Rariel’s invisible friend terrified the ghosts, and even the living beings in the emergency room became suddenly agitated.

A female vamp wearing scrubs approached him. “Do you need help?”

“No,” Rariel said, as Roag literally ripped into one of the screaming ghosts. That was the fun thing about spirits. You could tear them apart, causing unimaginable pain, and yet, they didn’t die. “I’m just here to watch.”

“Suit yourself, creep.” The vampire walked away, and he settled in beneath the Waiting Area sign. Distantly, he heard pitched, angry voices, and in another direction, something screamed. The spirits were still freaking out, wailing and beating the walls.

Nearby, between one plastic-covered couch and a sturdy stone table, two females gathered three infants closer to them. The pretty female with brown hair and striking champagne eyes let out a wolflike growl. The harder-looking female with red hair caressed the hilt of a blade in her hip scabbard, her green warrior’s eyes alert.

The moment Roag spotted them, fury blasted off him in a concussion wave that affected everyone in the emergency department. Staff and patients missed steps, dropped equipment, hugged themselves as though cold.

Roag moved toward the little group, murder in his eyes. Ah, yes… the females were Sem mates, and the triplets were Sem cubs. This was the family of the very brothers Roag wanted destroyed. And interestingly, one of the infants seemed to see him. Roag smiled… at least, the twist of his lips looked like a smile. He shifted form into a big Sem with shoulder-length, dark hair.

The little one reached out his hand toward Roag. Roag circled the family, and the baby watched, squirming in its mother’s arms as it tried to reach for Roag.

“Rade, take it easy,” the female said, hefting the baby tighter against her.

Roag shot Rariel a grin, and Rariel’s stomach twisted. He might be evil, a sick f**k in his own right, but torturing any species’ young was not something he enjoyed.

But as Roag’s thoughts melded with his, he relaxed. He wouldn’t have to torture. Just kill.

Eleven

“Kynan, please. Stay at the hospital with me. You’re safe here.”

Kynan Morgan had a hard time denying his wife anything, but he had been a soldier in the Army and for The Aegis for most of his life, and it wasn’t in his nature to hide from the enemy.

How often, though, was the enemy your best friends’ brother?

He wrapped his arms around Gem, the soft rasp of her purple scrubs against his leather jacket a comforting sound. He loved holding her, couldn’t believe that there had been a time when he’d foolishly wanted nothing to do with her.




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