The Darkest Secret. Gena Showalter

legs around his waist and locked her ankles. He palmed her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers. Even through her shirt and bra, she could feel the heat of him. The fiery brand. “I need …”

      Me. You need me.

      AMUN WAS LOST.

      He’d placed his hands around Haidee’s neck ready to snap the bone in two. She’d looked over at him with those eyes of pearl-gray, lashes long and sweeping, lips soft and pouty, pink locks of hair falling over her forehead. She’d talked of saving him … then a dark emotion had claimed her expression. One he hadn’t been able to read, but one he’d hated.

      She had leaned into him, somehow innocent in a way he’d never been, apologized to him as if his pain were somehow her fault, and he’d forgotten his body’s wounds. His forgotten everything. He’d been helpless to do anything but accept her lips against his. Then he’d breathed her in and accepting hadn’t been an option, either. He’d needed to possess her. Own her. Taking everything. Giving everything.

      He hadn’t understood the desires, still didn’t understand them, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The moment their tongues intertwined, his body had become a storm, and this woman had become his only anchor.

      Now, all the demons inside him—so many voices, so many thoughts and urges—lurched frantically, unable to remain at the back of his mind. They did not like her, had tried to hide from her, but now they were desperate to stay away from her. He sensed their agitation, their fear, but they were being pulled toward her unbidden, as he had been. They resisted.

      He hadn’t resisted. He’d simply given in.

      Now he struggled to tether the demons, to keep them in place as Haidee writhed in his arms, the decadent chill of her skin teasing his palms. Soon he had trouble even remembering to do that. She was undiluted pleasure in his arms. A demon in her own right, consuming him, driving him.

      Just then, he realized he didn’t care that she was a Hunter. Didn’t care that she meant to harm his friends. That she had harmed his best friend. This was … necessary. She tasted like the Water of Life found only in the heavens. Pure, fresh, crisp. And when she bit at his lips, no longer concerned with being gentle with him, too passion-crazed to care, like him, his thoughts derailed, realigning to his first goal: possessing her. Totally, completely.

      He pried his fingers from her ass and slid his hand to the front of her. Panties. Cotton. Damp. Nice.

      Mine, he thought next and still didn’t care about the consequences. He would care later. Tomorrow, maybe. Here, now, she was his. Desperate to feel her most feminine core, he shoved those panties aside. More than damp. Slick, ready. Gods, the way she wanted him.

      A groan rose from low in his throat and rumbled out. He stiffened for a moment, fearing what might follow even so slight a sound, but his mouth remained focused on Haidee and her thrusting tongue, no words forming.

      Relaxing, he tunneled through her folds, found her clitoris and pressed with the heel of his hand. She cried out, hips shooting off the bed, nails scoring his back.

      This is good. You like this. They should have been questions; they emerged as statements of fact.

      “Yes, please. More.”

      Hearing her beg was a climax all its own. What do you want? What do you need? What else did she like?

      “You. Just you.” Her eyes were closed, her tongue swiping at her lips to find his taste. Oh, yes. She was as lost as he was.

      Has it ever been this way before? Between us? The moment he asked, he stiffened. He didn’t want to know.

      He didn’t—

      “God, no. We were terrible before.”

      He fed her another kiss to show his approval, and that surprised him. Amun wasn’t like Strider, possessive to the extreme. He’d never minded sharing anything. Had never gone caveman on a woman before. Had never claimed one as his very own. Actually, he hadn’t had a lover in hundreds of years. To always know what they were thinking, what they truly thought of him, truly wanted from him … It had gotten old fast. So he’d concentrated on the war with the Hunters and what he was good at: killing. But Haidee …

      He wanted to be her best. Her only. Didn’t want her thinking the old “Micah” was better. Didn’t want her thinking about any man but Amun.

      “You are … this is … amazing.”

      Gonna make you so happy you said that.

      Amun worked his way down her throat, nipping, licking, sucking. Until he reached her nipple. Tenderness was abandoned. He bit through the fabric of her shirt, tugging the little bud into the fiery heat of his mouth, even as he shoved a finger deep, deep into her sex.

      Another cry left her, renting the air. Every muscle in his body clenched, savoring the sensation. Holy hell, but she clasped him tight. Seed leaked from the slit in his cock; he was hungry for her, for this, for more, so hungry. He added a second finger, moving in and out, in and out. She writhed, she begged some more.

      The demons grunted hysterically as they gripped the tether he’d created, trying desperately to stay inside him as she pulled at his hair—as though she was pulling on them again. And yet, agitated as they were, they still could not overtake his mind.

      Haidee’s head thrashed left and right. “So close … just a little more … and I’ll … I have to … I need … Please!”

      He couldn’t let the beasts near her. Not that they wanted near her; they were still fighting. He should stop this, stop the madness, but he had to taste her. He needed to taste her. Life wouldn’t be worth living if he didn’t.

      She was panting, little beads of ice crystallizing over her skin as he worked his way down. An oddity he barely registered. Sweating ice? Her T-shirt was rucked up to the middle of her bra—cotton, white, pretty—the flat plane of her stomach and the dip of her navel revealed. Gorgeous. Had a woman ever been so gorgeous?

      As he ripped the crotch of her panties, paving the way for his mouth, he licked into her navel. Her belly quivered. Her knees pressed into his sides, squeezing. Had he been human, she would have cracked bone.

      He kissed his way to her zipper. Barrier. He couldn’t allow a barrier. Another rip, and the pants were gaping open just like the panties. Then he was peering down at her, at a tiny triangle of pale curls, the rest of her pink and glistening. His. Ready.

      Liiick. Holy hell, he thought again. Nothing had ever tasted this good.

      Another cry left her, this one hoarse and broken. She released him to reach behind her and grip the headboard, her back bowing. Surprisingly the demons calmed, but only slightly, the pull on them somewhat eased, allowing them to go back into hiding.

      The door handle rattled.

      Amun was dimly aware of the possible intrusion but unconcerned. Liiick. Heaven and hell wrapped in temptation, leading him straight to his downfall. Addicting him. Consuming him. Owning him.

      The door handle rattled again.

      This time, there was a flicker of rational thought in his head. Someone meant to enter his bedroom. Friend? Foe? Didn’t matter. He had to wait to finish tasting her.

      The intruder would pay for that. Painfully.

      Haidee must have sensed his growing disquiet, because she opened her eyes and said, “What are you—” Her mouth floundered open and closed as she gasped in horror. “Your eyes. They’re completely red. Glowing.”

      What she didn’t say: demon. She’d known he was possessed, no matter what she thought his name was, and had claimed she would shield him from Hunters. But this must be her first true confirmation.

      There was no time to placate her. Someone comes. He swiped the glass shard from the nightstand and whipped around. Haidee jolted upright,