She dried off slowly, hoping that by some miracle he’d grown tired of waiting for her. But when she opened the bathroom door, her heart leaped into her throat at the sight of him stretched out on the bed, shirtless, hands behind his head, an expectant gleam in his half-lidded eyes.
Good God, he was gorgeous.
She was in so much trouble.
She stepped out of the bathroom, her legs wobbly, her fist wound tightly in the towel around her.
Than’s lips quirked. “Waste of time to cover up, when you’ll be losing the towel in a minute.”
An awkward kind of terror seized her. “I-I don’t think this is a good idea.” No, she didn’t think it. She knew it.
“Are we really going to do this again?” Thanatos shifted slightly, making the tattoos on his bare chest writhe. They were amazing … layered on top of each other and yet each distinct. They’d been taken from his thoughts by a demon who imbued each with emotions so powerful that Regan hardly needed to use her psychometric gift to read them. Although when she’d used her tongue on them that once, all she’d felt was lust, and the memory dried her mouth so thoroughly she might as well have gargled with sand. “I told you what was going to happen.”
She had to clear her throat to speak. “Because I owe you.”
“Yes.”
That he was right sat like a stain on her soul, and there was nothing she could do about it but snag the maternity nightgown out of the bag of clothes Limos had brought her, return to the bathroom, and throw it on. When she emerged, Than was in the same position, his eyes predatory, tracking her as she flipped off the light and used the dim glow of the embers in the hearth to guide her to the bed. The moment she climbed onto the mattress, his fingers circled her wrist.
“You ready? Not that it matters.” His voice, sensual and as rich as dark chocolate, made her stomach clench with hunger that had nothing to do with food.
“You really aren’t going to give up on this, are you?”
“One thing you might as well learn about me now, considering you’ll be here for a while, is that I’m stubborn as hell and I never give up. In a contest of wills, I’ll win every time, Regan.”
“Why?” she asked bitterly. “Because you’re a man and I’m a mere woman?”
His fingers tightened on her wrist. “Have I ever given you the impression that I’m misogynistic?”
Actually, no, he hadn’t. The whole “males must be better than females” shit was Regan’s issue, not Than’s. She’d had to fight for everything she got in The Aegis, including her spot in the Sigil, which had been a Males Only club for most of its existence.
“I’ll take your silence as a no,” Than said. “So ask me again why I’ll win a battle of wills.”
“Fine.” She jammed her feet under the covers. “Why?”
“Because I’m immortal and you’re a mere human. I have an eternity to out-stubborn you.”
“Oh, good. So it’s not the fact that I’m a woman that makes you feel superior—it’s the fact that I’m a human. I knew something mere would come into play.”
She felt his amusement more than saw it. “You’re stalling.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He dragged her hand across the space between them and laid it on his crotch. “I’ll give you an out, Regan. All you have to do is ask me not to do this.”
“Don’t do this.”
“That was a demand,” he said, his voice rough and dark. “I said ask. Very nicely.”
A chill settled over her skin despite the roaring fire. “Beg, you mean.”
When he didn’t reply, her first instinct was to yank her hand away, but her second, stronger instinct was to leave it there.
He wasn’t hard.
The realization… bothered her. Why would he want this so badly if he wasn’t turned on? Was it truly only to punish her? To get even? To have the satisfaction of hearing her plead?
Following her first inclination, she started to pull away. Than’s grip loosened and his amusement washed over her again. He’d expected her to refuse, and by refusing, she’d play right into his hand—or her hand, as it were. He’d have more ammo to use against her, more reasons to make jabs about her sleeping with him only because it had been her job.
No way. It was time for an injection of steel into her spine, and it was time for this Horseman to learn a little about expectations.
She cupped him firmly, and to her amusement, his air of amusement left him. And when she began a slow, sensual massage, his entire body stiffened. Beneath her palm, his c*ck swelled.
Ha! She supposed she shouldn’t feel too victorious—what man wouldn’t get hard if a woman was stroking him like this?
Shifting onto one elbow, she unzipped his fly, and as his erection sprang out, he snared her wrist.
“What are you doing?”
She gripped him, and he hissed a breath through his teeth. “What you want me to do.” Feeling a measure of control she’d so badly needed, she slid her hand down his length, loving the velvety smoothness of his skin. “Seems to me you gave me a choice. Pleasure you or beg. I don’t beg.”
She also didn’t know how far she could take this. If he wanted her to mount him the way she had that night… she suddenly couldn’t breathe. And yet, her hand was still moving, more evidence that her mind was very much divorced from her body when it came to this man.
His groan rumbled through the darkness. “Regan…” His voice was tortured, the sound so deep and male that it eased her anxiety about full-on sex. Maybe this would be enough for him for now. She hoped so, because she couldn’t go any further, not with those memories lurking so painfully in her mind.
He was so hot in her palm, steel and silk, and she took her time sliding her grip from the thick base to the broad head. Each stroke brought a raspy breath and a slow, seeking churn of his hips. Maybe this would be a step in the right direction for them. There had been so much hurt between them, and they could both use a positive encounter to begin to balance the negatives.
She stole a glance at him, and in the fading halo of orange firelight, he was magnificent. Shadows created hard lines along his jaw and cheekbones while the light accented his full, lush lips as they parted to release a harsh breath. His lust-glazed eyes watched her with such intensity that heat licked her everywhere his fevered gaze came to rest on her body.
A bead of moisture formed at the slit in his penis, and when she swiped her thumb through it and smoothed it over the cap, his lips parted more, revealing hints of glinting teeth. A sound escaped him—a low, desperate gasp that brought a thrill of excitement to her heart.
Gently, she squeezed his shaft, eliciting another gasp of pleasure. More. She wanted more from him. This might have started as a power play between them, but now … oh, this was delicious.
She pumped her fist down the length of him, to the broad base where the edge of her hand hit his zipper, then back up to the firm tip of the head. When she moved her hand down again, she worked her fingers to caress his sac, and he groaned. The sound of a male in ecstasy sent a visceral ache straight to her core, and wetness bloomed between her legs.
She brought her hand back up, squeezing firmly and using her thumb to rub slow circles on the sensitive skin just under the head.
“Stop.” Than caught her forearm and stilled her movements. “I’m going to come.”
“Isn’t that the point of this?”
He reached out, and she could have sworn his hand trembled as he lightly touched her face. “What do you want?”
Was this a trick question? Would he refuse whatever she said? If that was his game, she supposed she could play.
“I want to finish you,” she said, daring him to refuse this. “I always finish what I start.”
His yellow eyes drilled into her, and he dropped his hand from her cheek. “Yes, you do, don’t you. No matter the consequences.”
Ouch. Again. He was full of venom tonight. Unexpectedly stung, she averted her gaze, refusing to let him see how his words affected her. More roughly than she intended, she went back to stroking him. As if she’d struck a match to gasoline, he let out a hoarse cry and arched into her grip.
His head punched back and his entire body strained with leashed power as she took the cue and pumped her fist harder, faster. He liked it rough, she thought, and for some reason, that knowledge made her dizzy with want. She crowded closer to him, desperate for more contact.
“Regan,” he gasped. “I’m going to—” He broke off with a guttural shout as his body convulsed and wet, hot spurts splashed over her hand and onto his stomach.
She kept up the hand action until he stopped her by putting his hand over hers. For several heartbeats, he lay there, eyes closed and his fingers stroking her skin. The darkness between them settled into a comfortable calm, even though her heart was beating a mile a minute and her feminine parts coiled tight with unquenched desire.
An odd pang in her gut unnerved her, coming so quickly on top of the arousal. The pang intensified, and the desire coursing through her shifted. Her stomach churned, and a burning sensation spread up her torso. She sat up with a wince as a massive cramp tore through her midsection.
“Oh, no.” Thanatos grabbed her wrist as an oily, malevolent agony swamped her body, locking her muscles and turning every nerve ending into a live wire. “You aren’t running away from me again. I didn’t threaten to break your neck this time. Not until the eight and a half months are over, anyway.”
There was a teasing note in his voice, but now was definitely not the time for that. Nausea bubbled up in her throat and icy sweat broke out over her skin.
“Let me go,” she whispered. Blades of molten steel stabbed her in the eyes, blurring her vision so badly that Thanatos’s face became nothing but a smudge.
“Why?”
Bile soured her mouth. “Because I think…” She cried out as a lightning bolt of searing, twisting pain shot through her spine. “Oh, God, I think I’m dying.”