Bonds of Hercules (Villains of Lore, #2)(44)
When I was satisfied he was clean and I dry, I carried him back to the bed. He looked up at me, black eyes wide and trusting, as I raised the corner of the blanket up for him.
He snuggled under the covers, chittering with contentment as he wrapped his little black hands around Alexis’s neck.
I tucked him in with only his little gray ears peeking out, just like he preferred.
Satisfied that everyone was taken care of, I quickly stripped off my clothes and scrubbed myself clean as fast as possible.
Rushing, I pulled on a pair of sweatpants stashed in the bedside table, then I dug through my discarded clothes, found the two loaded Spartan guns, and tucked a sheathed dagger into my waistband.
With guns in both of my hands, I leaned back against the front door. Eyes wide, mind alert. If anyone tried to mess with the lock, I’d feel it immediately.
No one was getting inside.
Not under my watch.
I stood guard as Alexis, Kharon, and Poco slept peacefully in the bed. Head fuzzy with exhaustion, I ignored the aches in my body.
On the floor, the hellhounds were curled together around Fluffy Jr., the lump on his back quivering.
Some beasts underwent molting transformations, but none looked remotely like he did. Another mystery.
One, two, three, four, five, six.
I counted the rise and fall of Alexis’s chest, watching every breath she took as the candles burned low.
As the hours passed, calm descended, the kind that only occurred when purpose met passion.
Duty was melting away into something new.
Alexis was going to be okay, because there was no other option.
I was going to make sure of it.
Warmth filled my chest, and for the first time since it painfully settled into place, the marriage bond hummed with contentment.
“Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo,” I whispered into the shadows. “For you, my carus. Always.”
It was a promise.
If I cannot move Heaven, I will raise hell.
15
SATAN’S TOUCH
ALEXIS: THREE DAYS LATER (POST-HEALING COMA) “I watch you.” Satan’s breath whispered tantalizingly against the shell of my ear. “Every … single … night.”
The sleep world was fading into reality, but I kept my eyes shut.
“That’s,” I whispered, “not healthy.” I squirmed deeper into the cozy warmth.
Fingers tangled in the curls at the base of my skull, pulling my head back.
“Fuck healthy,” the guttural voice rasped. “I fantasize about—” lips pressed against my jaw “—ruining you so thoroughly that you forget your own name.”
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach.
“I want to chain you to my side. I want to punish you for driving me crazy. I want to show you just how much you mean to me … body and soul. Do you know what that’s like?”
I do.
One hand yanked my head back further as his other wrapped around my hip, pinning me in place.
A masculine groan vibrated, desperate and needy, the tortured sound of a ravenous man.
Goose bumps pebbled, heat pooling between my legs.
“You’re going to obey me,” Satan ordered as he kissed my jaw.
“I won’t,” I whispered back, eyes still squeezed shut.
The hand in my hair tugged. “You will obey.” The hot mouth trailed lower to my neck.
I shivered with delight.
“No,” I panted.
Satan sucked against the column of my throat, just hard enough to leave marks.
My face flushed. The fever was spreading.
He held me tighter, breathing roughly, like he was losing all control, and the scent of a rainstorm filled my nose.
A silky-smooth male voice echoed from across the room. “Fuck, she likes that. Don’t stop.”
My stomach dipped with heat.
Satan lifted his hips, rigid heat pressing flush against me.
He kissed my neck hard, sucking my skin between his teeth, then gently peppering the abused flesh with delicate kisses, as if in apology.
I fisted the sheets, back bowing with pleasure.
You’re in grave danger.
Sticky warmth dribbled as velvety hardness pressed against my upper thigh.
“Mine,” he whispered hoarsely as he kissed my collarbone.
The fever stoked higher as fingernails trailed across my stomach, flesh burning in their wake.
“Wake up, carissima,” Satan ordered harshly as he sucked my nipple into his mouth. I shifted—there were bandages wrapped around my entire torso, everywhere but my breasts.
Pain twinged in my back, but I ignored it as heat streaked straight to my core. I peeked through my lashes.
Muted candlelight highlighted his strikingly refined features, as Kharon hovered above me, glacier eyes hooded, ink rippling as he swallowed.
His hips rolled, the length of his hardness pressing against me like a brand.
I whimpered.
“Hello, princess.” Kharon tangled his hand deeper into my curls, pulling my head back.
“Hello.” I tangled my hands in his short silky hair. “Karen.”
He stilled, blue veins standing out against his pale skin.
Skeleton-tattooed fingers reached up and gripped my chin—Kharon slammed his mouth against mine, tongue diving deep.