The Darkest Surrender

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

STRIDER HAULED KAIA through thickening mist and across a rushing river. When he’d first come here, the trees had tried to eat him alive and he’d had to hack his way to safety every few minutes. Now, those same trees remained perfectly still, not a single leaf dancing in the swirling breeze. What was that about?

The question ceased to matter when he reached the cave he’d discovered while tracking Kaia. Would serve her right to be thrown inside, a boulder shoved in front of the only exit. She could spend a few years in solitary confinement, thinking about her mistakes.

He meant to yell at her, he really did—for leaving him behind, for almost walking into that bastard Lazarus’s seductive trap, which Strider would punish him for setting, by the way—but as he backed her against the crystal wall, he was given his first full-length glimpse of her since tackling her fine ass to the ground. Her gorgeous red hair was damp at the ends and dripping little water beads onto her bare stomach.

The river had washed away the makeup that always coated her skin, leaving her glimmering like a diamond in blazing sunlight. Not as brightly as before, though. And she was shivering. He frowned. Why was she shivering? It was as hot as hell in here.

That did nothing to diminish her appeal. Nothing could. Maybe because she wore a tiny half top and a pair of shorts. Both were white, now see-through, and he saw. Blushing, beaded nipples, and then, between the long, lithe length of her legs, a delicious patch of red in the center, and if he didn’t look away soon his erection would bust through the zipper on his pants.

He studied the rest of her. She was injured, he realized. The angry wounds in her side and on her thigh caused fury to well inside him, replacing the lust. No wonder her skin lacked its most brilliant sheen and her body couldn’t stop trembling.

He bit into his wrist and held the wound to her mouth. “Drink.”

Moaning in ecstasy, she obeyed. Such exquisite suction, he thought, such warmth. Her eyes closed in surrender. When he saw the torn muscle and then the flesh weaving back together, he nodded in satisfaction and removed his arm.

He was the one to groan this time. Of course, lack of injury left her beautiful skin bare and unmarred, allowing him to eat her back up with his eyes. The lust returned full force.

Gaze…up… Her lips were pouty, moist. Higher. Because, damn. He was throbbing. Her silver-gold eyes were luminous with all kinds of emotion. Upset, relief, arousal of her own, hurt. He wanted to wipe away the bad and magnify the good. And the only way to do that, he told himself, was to have her. Finally. All the way, nothing held back.

Yeah, baby. He liked the thought of that. Felt as if he were thinking clearly for the first time in his life. He needed what she offered. Wanted to stake his claim, warn every other man away.

There would be consequences, he was sure, but he couldn’t make that matter. Not here, not now. She’d left him and struck out on her own, and the separation had nearly driven him to the brink of insanity.

He pressed his body against hers and she gasped. Such a lovely sound, needy and wanton.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice low and sultry. “You have no idea how much I needed that.”

“Welcome.”

“Do you still want to gag me? Because I recommend using a racket ball and duct tape if you do.”

“No need for a gag. I can handle you.” If he couldn’t, well, there was no better way to go.

Her breath hitched. “Really?” Now her tone was verging on the edge of hope.

He nodded. “Really. So let’s figure out what I need to do to hit this one out of the park.”

“O-okay.”

“You once told me Paris had given you a bazillion orgasms. Your words, not mine. So exactly how many is a bazillion?”

Her cheeks pinkened and she was adorable, all the sexier, in her embarrassment. “I don’t know. I didn’t count. And I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Think back. Count. And you’re going to talk about him, once and only once. After this conversation you will forget him. Forever.”

“Why?” She flattened her palms on his chest. “Why make me think back, I mean, when I only want to think about you?”

“My demon. Why else?” He traced a fingertip along her jaw. “So do it. Please.”

Win.

Shocking, he thought dryly. I will. He hoped.

Understanding dawned in her expression, and with it, fear. She’d just realized Strider had to give her more orgasms than Paris had. That even sex was to be a challenge to him. Was she wondering if they’d ever have any peace? If there’d ever be a moment just for them, no games, no winner, no loser?

“You knew that’s how it would be before you accepted me as your consort,” he said stiffly. “Don’t even consider tossing me aside now. So do it. Think back and tell me.”

“I don’t want to toss you aside. I don’t want you hurt, either.” She chewed on her bottom lip, a nervous action he recognized. “He gave me f-four, I think.”

That stutter… “You think or you know?”

A pause. More chewing. “I, uh, know. Yes, I know. Four. It was four. For sure.”

Win.

Shut it. I will. He would give her (at least) five orgasms before he came. And he would blow her mind with every single one of them. But he’d have to deliver them while she was still clothed. Moment he stripped her, he would be inside her, filling her up, losing the control he needed.

“I have to say, I’m a little surprised you consider four a bazillion, but to each his own. Just prepare yourself for a quadrillion.” He reached between their bodies and un-snapped her shorts.

Her eyes widened. “We’re having sex now?”

“Yes.” Unziiip. He arched a brow. “After your assembly line of orgasms. Is that a problem?”

“No. It’s just…do you remember when I said I didn’t want you hurt? Well, I meant, I didn’t want to accidentally hurt you. So you’ll just…damn it, you’ll need a safe word.” Her chest heaved with the force of her breathing. “I’m sorry.”

Baffled, he paused. “Me? I’ll need a safe word?” And she hadn’t been afraid he’d fail, only that she’d injure him. He nearly grinned. Already this was the best sexual experience of his life.

She nodded, unsure. “Are you okay with that?”

Delectable female. His gaze lowered to the gap in her shorts. White panties. Lace. Nice. “How about a safe phrase? Mine will be ‘someone’s out there.’” He didn’t wait for her reply, but dropped to his knees.

“Oh, gods.” Her belly quivered. “Okay, yes, okay. Gods, I’m repeating myself, but that works.”

His gaze locked on the shadow of red beneath the lace and his mouth watered. He leaned in and nuzzled her with his nose, inhaling the sweet scent of female.

“Oh, gods,” she said again. “You—you’ll be the best, Strider, you don’t have to worry. Okay? I know it.”

Just then he wasn’t worried about anything; his mind was locked on her and only her. On learning her taste, hearing her beg for more, feeling her clutching at him, maybe pulling at his hair.

He forced her legs to part as far as they could with the shorts restricting her movements. Unmindful of her panties, he pressed the tip of his tongue against the heart of her, the heat. Pressed harder. Gods, he could already taste her and he’d never liked anything more.

The ache in his cock intensified, nearly unbearable. Damn. How good would it feel if he reached down, curled his fingers around his shaft, stroked up and down while burying his face between her legs?

He was reaching down before he realized he’d moved. Damn it. He gripped her thighs. He’d have to blank his mind, perform but remain distanced. Only when he’d beaten Paris could he consider his own pleasure.

Strider flicked his tongue over the tight bud of her clitoris.

“Oh, gods, yes,” she gasped out.

No need to force his mind to blank. Her pleasured cry short-circuited his thoughts. Satisfied, he wanted her satisfied. Damp, her panties were damp, but he wanted them soaking.

Next his tongue traced lazy circles around her heated center, swiped back and forth, up and down, hitting her from every possible angle. When she began arching her hips to meet him, he caressed his hands up and down her calves, her thighs, then under her shorts. Such soft, smooth skin…so damn warm.

Though he wanted to tunnel his hands up, higher, thrust his fingers inside her, he merely teased her with the possibility, his tongue never ceasing its assault, and finally, sweetly, she gripped the back of his head and held his mouth firmly against her. She was panting, sheened with perspiration.

“I need…I have to have…” She ground him where she needed him most. “Strider!” she screamed as she came.

One down, four to go.

He stood to shaky legs. Without a word, he spun her, forcing her to face the wall. His cock rubbed against her ass and he sucked in a ragged breath. His fingers glided around, sliding under her shorts, inside her panties. Contact. Skin to hot, wet female core, and oh, sweet heaven, she felt exquisite.

A groan slipped from her. Her back arched. Her arms lifted and then her nails were scraping through his hair. He rubbed her swollen little clitoris before inserting one finger deep inside her inner sheath, moving it in and out, in and out, inserting a second finger, moving them in and out, in and out, until she once again writhed against him, desperate for release.

“Strider, I need, I need…”

“I know, baby doll.” He gave her a third finger, stretching her. With his free hand, he reached up and cupped one of her breasts. A perfect handful. Her nipple was beaded, probably aching. He pinched. She gasped. The sound affected him, drove his own need higher. “How am I doing?”

“The best. No one better. Please.”

He couldn’t help himself, had to have concentrated contact. He jerked her hips backward, slamming the crease of her ass against his erection, the perfect cradle, and as she moaned, he slowed the thrust of his fingers. Within seconds, her hips began pumping harder, faster, urging him to keep the rhythm. He didn’t. He slowed a bit more.

Soon she couldn’t quite catch her breath, was panting shallowly, raggedly. Her skin heated another degree, almost burning through his clothes. It hurt, but damn, it hurt so good. Especially when her nails sank deep into his scalp, drawing blood. Then every muscle in her body clamped down, her bones vibrating. Again she screamed his name. This time, a second voice was layered over hers, raspier, almost purring, and he knew her Harpy was right there with her, enjoying.

Two down, three to go.

“Strider, let me…suck on you…you have to be…hurting.”

Damn, but he wanted to take her up on the decadent offer. He bit his tongue until he tasted blood. Yeah, he was hurting, but he’d hurt a hell of a lot more if he failed to do this right. “Not yet.”

“Please…”

Gods, she was going to kill him.

HE WAS GOING TO KILL HER.

Kaia’s legs were trembling, barely able to hold her up. Her blood had reached the point of boiling and she’d long since melted inside. And yet, she couldn’t get enough of Strider. He’d given her an orgasm and she’d immediately craved another. He’d given her another, and still she craved.

If she felt that way, how must he be feeling? On fire? Ready to burst? Damn it, she wanted him to enjoy their time together, not suffer through it.

Dizziness consumed her when he spun her back around. He didn’t give her a chance to speak or recover; he simply meshed their mouths together, his tongue thrusting inside the way she wanted his cock to do. When he cupped her ass and lifted her, she had to wind her legs around his waist for balance. The moment she did, he pressed, hard, and the long, thick length of his erection hit her dead center.

She moaned. He groaned.

He never stopped feeding her that kiss. It was sweet, it was torture; it was wonderfully debauched and erotic and affected her all the way to her soul, and oh, gods above she was coming, again, before she could work her hand between them and fist his erection.

“You’re beautiful when you climax,” he said fiercely, his voice strained. “Two more times, baby doll, okay?”

He didn’t understand. How could she make him understand? The number of orgasms didn’t matter. Not with him. The fact that Strider was kissing her, Strider was touching her, Strider was pleasing her, was enough. No experience would ever be better than this.

She had to make him understand.

Kaia’s legs were boneless as she forced them to the ground. He pressed her back into the crystal wall—so cold—and cupped her breasts, squeezing. Lines of tension branched from his mouth. His swollen, still moist mouth.

She wrapped her fingers around his wrists, applying so much pressure he would not be able to move without experiencing a twinge of pain. His gaze shot up, meeting hers. Those navy blues were glazed, hungry.

Now that she had his attention, she flung him to the side and danced in front of him, switching their positions. Her claws ripped at his jeans. The material was damp where she’d rubbed against him.

“What are—” The question ended on a hoarse moan when her fingers whispered along his flesh. His hot, needy flesh. “Kaia, don’t…you can’t—damn it, baby! Do it, please.”

She’d already moved to her knees. Now, she sucked him deep, all the way to the back of her throat. His fingers tangled in her hair. Maybe he’d meant to jerk her away from him, but as she lifted her head, sucking harder, laving her tongue over the thick vein riding the length of him, he merely massaged her scalp, gentle, tender, as if afraid to tug the strands. “Baby…sweetheart…please.” He was pumping his hips in tune with her mouth, in and out, in and out, still trying to be gentle and slow when his body clearly craved hard and fast.

Even though she enjoyed pleasuring him like this as much as he enjoyed being on the receiving end, his earlier doubts played through her mind, taking root inside her. What if the number of orgasms did, in fact, matter to his demon? Strider would be her best, hands down, no question, no matter what, but if the number mattered and she failed to have more than four before he had one, Strider would hurt. If he was hurt, he wouldn’t bed her again.

He’d remember the pain rather than the pleasure.

Oh…damn. Her point would have to be proven later.

She stopped abruptly and he groaned as if agonized. He probably was. Two more, she thought. She had to have two more climaxes before she could give him one. She felt selfish and greedy, but she couldn’t risk this. Along with proving her point, she would make this up to him later. Would give him so many orgasms he wouldn’t be able to walk for a week.

Trembling more intensely, she stood, tugged his hand from her hair and moved it down her shorts, between her legs, where she was hot and drenched. At the moment of contact, a moan parted her lips.

“Kaia, please—you have to…I need…” His voice was strained, his features so taut he reminded her of a rubber band, ready to snap at any second. And his eyes…his eyes glowed with a mix of blue and red, Strider and his demon vying for dominance.

“I surrender,” she whispered, arching against him, sliding those fingers deep. “I’m yours and we’ll do this your way. However you want.”

“No, I want…need…”

“I know, darling, I know, but keep touching me like this, okay? Touch me like this until I say stop. Then, you’re going to bury this beautiful cock so deep inside me…I’ll never…be the…same.” The last emerged on another moan. The pressure…building again…taking over…

“Yes,” he growled.

“Oh, yes.” She moved his thumb to her clit and pressed. A fourth orgasm shot through her quickly, causing her to tense and spasm. She rode the waves of it, not allowing his fingers to slow their ruthless, relentless friction. Her blood, boiling before, became an inferno. Steam actually seeped from her pores, creating a mist around them. She didn’t understand, knew it was weird, wrong, but wasn’t going to worry about it now. This was too important.

“Kaia…hurry…” Sweat beaded his brow, dripped from his temples. Breath rasped in and out of his nose. “I can’t hold out much longer. Dying…”

Her undulations never ceased and the pressure built once again, coiling through her. “Just a little more…” Her nipples scraped again his chest, creating more of that decadent friction. “Please, just a little more.”

“I’m going to come the moment I’m inside you.”

“Want you to.”

“Gods, Kaia. I’ve never been this ready.”

Good, that was good. As much as he needed to be her best, she wanted to be his best. To drive away thoughts of all his others. To be his one and only. Forever.

“You’re mine,” she said.

“Yours. Never should have resisted you.” Predatory growls sprang from low in his throat. His free hand slammed into the wall behind him, right beside his thigh, cracking the crystal. He hit again. Split. Again. Shatter.

All that intensity…all for her… The steam thickened around them and she found herself climbing him as if he were another mountain, hiking her legs around his waist. He shoved his fingers deep, so deep, and finally, blessedly, she shot off. A scream ripped from her, so intense she saw silver stars winking behind her eyelids.

In the next instant, she was flying backward. She hit the floor with a thwack and lost her breath. There was no time to recover. Her clothing was ripped away. Her eyelids popped open just in time to see Strider, his expression frenzied, his control gone, looming over her. He’d just removed the last of his own clothing. He spread her legs as far as they would go and thrust deep inside her, all the way.

He roared. But he didn’t come, not yet, and she cried out as she arched up to meet him. Those predatory growls of his become savage as he pumped, stretching her. He wasn’t human or immortal, she mused. He was animal and she loved it. And really, she should have been past the point of responding. Should have simply become a receptacle for his pleasure. But as he drilled into her, consuming her, she, too, became lost to sensation, an animal herself.

Then he stopped. Stopped. He stared down at her, beads of his sweat dripping onto her. “Baby doll?” he gritted, voice rough and gravelly.

“Yes, I am. Now move!”

“No. Get you…pregnant?”

“No. I’m not fertile right now.”

He was moving an instant later and she was lost again. This was her consort, her man, and they were joined. One. The knowledge was sultry, intoxicating to her. Her claws sliced at his back, flaying his flesh. Her fangs bit at his lips, tasting his blood, and then he was kissing her, too, his tongue thrusting like his cock, branding his taste inside the hollow of her mouth. This was everything she’d ever secretly wanted and she gave herself up to Strider’s possession.

Yes, possession, she realized. His demon was a part of him, but Strider was a part of her, essential to her survival.

“Strider,” she gasped. “My Strider.”

Perhaps his name on her kiss-swollen lips pushed him over the edge, because he released another roar, the crazed sound echoing off the walls. His entire body tensed over hers. Absolute pleasure consumed his face and he pumped inside her a final time, coming…coming…shooting her straight into another climax.