Unearthed (41 page)

“The only thing I want is for you to stay with me. Just try.” She knew she sounded like a needy high school girlfriend, but this wasn’t about the prom. What happened here would change their lives—one way or another.

Without stopping, she looked up at his face and watched him struggle with the pleasure. He’d been so careful not to let her touch him, she expected something awful to happen with every brush of her lips, every stroke of her fist. Since when did anything happen when she expected it—good or bad? But this moment was singular, and she needed to live in it.

He let out a disappointed breath when she let go of his cock.

“I’m not going too far, promise.”

He blinked, trying to focus. “Souls are nothing but pains in the ass. Why would I give up my life for one?”

“I’m not taking your life. I’m giving you a better one. A better forever.” They stared at each other as she nibbled along his hipbone and used her tongue to trace the lines of the tribal markings on his belly. “Do you remember what we did together? The airplane ride maybe?”

He flinched, his abs contracting under her lips. His skin was hot, but he shivered as she caressed him the way she’d always wanted.

“You remember, don’t you?” she asked. “Flying above the clouds. You said it was the best day you’d ever had. Ever.”

“You must have heard me wrong.” He avoided looking at her, trying to pretend her touch didn’t affect him. “My best day ever was April 18, 1906. My next nine favorites all happened in the eighties—now
that
was a good decade.” His voice was airy, his bravado so much weaker than usual. “But none of them included any flying, clingy humans, or—”

“Kissing me because it’s what you wanted, not just to release your heat? Touching me until nothing else existed?” Now she could finally return the favor. “Sleeping next to me? Hunting together, as equals, partners.”

“Demons don’t have partners. You were bait. Remember?”

“I remember lots of things.” She traced her fingertips up his arm towards his hand, still too wary to try touch it. If he got hold of her, this would all be over in a very bad way. She leaned closer to his mouth, wanting to feel his lips, how warm they were, how expressive.
Not now.
He’d hurt her now. “Like when you saved me, or…” A deep breath helped her hold back a torrent of frustration. “You told me if there was a way for us to be together, you’d take it. This is the way, Davyn. The only way.”

His glare softened slightly, but his jaw clenched even tighter.

“I’m going to let you into my mind now. Drop my shield and let you inside me.” He’d never been inside her—mind or body. It was time to let him into both. There was nothing he could use against her now. She wasn’t tempted to let him go, and he could only use what already existed. What she was currently thinking about and wanted.

Him. The person he was supposed to be. The person he’d wished he could remain. Her mind filled with thoughts of how his body called to hers, its strength and beauty. The way her own responded with so much want. So much need. So much temptation.

She’d never felt more ready, not to give up but to give
in
. To him.

She slid her shield down slowly, feeling his power push into her. The initial sting turned into an overwhelming sense of relief, satisfaction. The pleasurable side effect of letting someone take over and not being responsible for your actions anymore. No wonder so many people gave in to temptation.

Then the sensation was gone, and Davyn turned towards the window. “You’re as useless as the rest of them. Nothing in there but drivel and sap. Except for the heaping spoonful of stupid, of course. Falling for a demon has got to be the dumbest thing a human could ever do, and they do a lot of really dumb shit.” He seemed frustrated, disappointed maybe, but he wasn’t yelling or fighting. That seemed like a good sign.

“Do me if you’re going to do me, puppet. I don’t have all day. But I want you to understand something first.” His voice dropped so low, she felt the vibration through her entire body. “I’m not going to tell you I love you. I’m not going to moan your name. And you’re fucking insane if you think I’m going to wait for you to come first. So, if you’re here looking for flowers or fireworks, get ready to be severely disappointed.”

“I just want you to come back.” The Davyn she knew. The one who liked who he was and was happy. She straddled his hips, ran her core along his cock, and let her body take over from her mind. Her body knew what to do and what it wanted, just like his did.

His abs clenched and released with every stroke, and his groans were muffled by the tension in his jaw and lips.

They’d never touched like this—heat to heat—and it was long overdue.

Keira closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing, wondering if she should suggest he do the same. They hadn’t even started, and both of them were practically panting.

“Look at me.” His tone demanded compliance and, for the first time with him, she did. “I want to see the look on your face when you finally realize that you’ve caused your own destruction.”

She clenched her lips together, unable to say anything that wouldn’t give her away, how horrible it was to see hate fill the eyes and mouth of the person she trusted and loved.

Doesn’t matter.
She knew what she had to do, how to make things the way they were, maybe even better. So fuck the Devil and everything that had turned Davyn into someone he didn’t want to be anymore.

She lowered her hands to the mattress on either side of his neck. “The look you see on my face is trust and respect and love. So stare at me all you want because it’ll never go away.” She slid down his body, bringing him inside her until he couldn’t be any deeper.

In that moment, everything stopped—his complaining and her nervousness, his anger and her frustration, their breath and their hearts. They moaned in unison, feeling each other for the first time. Feeling perfection for the first time. Why did either of them ever doubt this was meant to happen? All they needed to do was get out of their own way.

After the initial shock, both of them started to move, rocking against each other at exactly the same moment and exactly the same pace. He cursed and looked at the ceiling as if that’s where he’d find an answer to what was happening. She sat up and rested her hands on his chest, their hips moving faster, pressing down harder to feel them become part of one another.

Heaven couldn’t possibly be as good as this. All those great feelings faded when her vision warped, as if a film had dropped over her corneas. Not rose-colored.

Red. The color of blood and hell.

“Can you see that?” She shivered when the temperature of the room changed. “Can you feel that?”

His response was an unearthly cry, the most primal sound she’d ever heard. His back bowed off the bed, the tendons in his neck tightening painfully. Keira grabbed onto him, afraid she’d fall or lose him somehow. And then he collapsed as if all the life had left his body.

“Davyn?” When she shook him, nothing happened, his head just flopped from side to side.
Not like this. Please, it can’t end like this.
“Davyn? Wake up.” Maybe he couldn’t hear her because her jaw was shaking so badly. She wiped her eyes and then leaned closer to him so she could see…something, anything. She wanted his eyes to pop open, and it to be a big joke. To see his cocky grin and hear one of his terrible jokes.

Instead, when she squinted, she saw his wrists bleeding, skin torn from pulling so hard on the ropes, arms laying limp while his blood dripped onto the pillow.

She remembered it, hated it—the sharp metallic scent of blood. And then more…different…the stench.

No
.
No, not here.
It’s not real, not possible here. The memory overwhelmed her, confusing her even more because when she’d gone back to Lamere’s dungeon, she’d only smelled the portal. Now she could remember the scent of something worse. Until she’d been trapped in that prison she hadn’t known that cold and empty even
had
smells. Dank, moldy, stale—those things had odors—but not cold.

For three horrible years, every breath she took was filled with that stench—the lack of anything true, anything alive, or sweet, or warm. Now this room reeked of it too. A different room with a different man, one who had taken care of her, made her feel safe.

This is how she paid him back? By ruining it. All of it. Everything. She’d killed all the good. She would always kill the good. She whimpered, touching Davyn’s face, feeling her tears rain down her cheeks.

“I didn’t mean to.” But that’s not what mattered. She’d taken away his choice and his freedom while telling herself the opposite was true. “Davyn, I’m…” Her shame weighed so heavily on her, she fell forward and caught herself by punching her fists into the mattress on either side of him.

Moving was impossible. Retreat was impossible. Regret was…immeasurable. She’d made a mistake that would cost both of them everything.

“Finish it.” His voice was flat, dead sounding. “Can’t you feel it? The bond.”

Was that what it was? Her soul being dislodged, pulling out memories of her prison along with it.

“Damn it, hunter, it’s already started. If you stop now, we’re both screwed.”

She wanted to cry. No, she already was. Because she recognized his tone, the defeat in it. It sounded like her voice every time Lamere brought her back, demanded she thank him and tell him how lucky she felt to have him. That’s what she heard in Davyn’s voice. It was worse than death. Only then did she understand the full impact of what she’d done.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t say that. Just make me come. I need to finish inside you. End this.”

She didn’t move, couldn’t, except to close her eyes. So heavy. Her eyelids, her body, her mind. So heavy and tired. So…

“Wake up, hunter! Wake up!” He jerked his hips into hers, lifting her higher, then grunting when she slid back down his cock and slammed into him. “Damn it! Don’t stop, Keira. You can do this.”

Her name registered in her mind a second later. Not puppet or anything else. Keira. She couldn’t pry her eyes open, lift herself off his chest to look at him. What if she saw his eyes—
her
Davyn’s eyes? And what if they were desperate or lost because of what she’d done? It was her fault. She’d taken away his choice, his body. Lamere had been right—she was just like him.

She felt the rumble of his groan against her cheek where it lay on his chest. Then the pulsing beat of his heart. His pounded too fast, while hers slowed, dragging her down deeper until it became too hard to even breathe. Until she wished that would stop too, just so she could sleep.

Everything stripped away, replaced with nothingness. It had been a while, but she recognized the feeling.

Death. She felt herself dying again. No coming back this time. Nothing to come back to.

He mumbled something over and over in that weird language. The chant soothed her, made her passing easier, took away some of her fear.

Then the peace disappeared, his scream taking its place, the sound burning her ears like a death knell. His body contracted so powerfully, she moved with him into the air, and then came down hard, her chin hitting his chest, her teeth slamming together.

“You shouldn’t have done this.” His breath sped, allowing him to only whisper.

“I needed you to come back,” she called to him, the inches between them more like miles.

“Then, move.” His voice was guttural, achingly deep. “Move, please.”

“I can’t.”

“I didn’t want this for you”—Davyn curled his hips, pressing deeper into her—“but you can’t stop now. I can’t feel you—at least, I think it’s you, your soul—but you gotta keep going. You can’t change your mind. Damn it, hunter, what if your soul rips? What if there’s not enough left in you?” His voice got louder until he was shouting. “Please, Keira, listen to me!”

Muttering something like sorry, or maybe it was a bunch of ‘sorrys’ all mushed together, she lifted off him. This was wrong. She had to make it stop. Her mind was still trapped in Lamere’s dungeon, reliving how impossible another minute of life seemed. How much she wanted it to end.

“No! Don’t get off me! Hey! Look at me.”

She did what he wanted, wishing that would be enough to make him forgive her.

“I want you, understand?”

No, she didn’t. His voice and eyes pleaded for something he couldn’t possibly want. Why was he lying?

“I want to be inside you. Just like this. Well, not, not
just
like this, but kind of like this. Not just now, lots and lots of times. So don’t let me out of you, not until it’s over. Please, hunter.”

Her vision was as blurry as her mind, and his words didn’t make sense. She didn’t want to hurt him, so she had to let him go. For three years, she’d wanted freedom more than life.

He bucked beneath her again, sliding deeper into her core. Over and over until along with her fear came an intense pleasure, every thrust building onto the last. This was wrong. How could she feel so good after doing something so horrible? Her body wasn’t hers to control, so he moved for her. She moaned his name, begged him for release, to find a way out for both of them.

Damn it, hunter
.
What did you do?

She was better than anything Davyn had ever touched or felt, and when they moved, it was enough to make him want to thank the powers, loudly. But he fought his body to stay absolutely still, because if he screwed this up, he’d lose her forever.

There was no turning back, no reversing what had already begun. All he knew was if their bodies separated now, something horrible would happen. Her soul could be ripped to shreds and both of them would be dragged into hell.

Whatever started when she let him inside her had also sucked her into the past. She seemed dazed, drugged, wounded beyond anything in even the demon world. He finally understood what Lamere had done—he’d killed her spirit, and that death was still inside her, fighting for a hold. Davyn had to pull her out of that hell, to connect with her again and make her remember who she really was. All while being strapped down to a fucking bed.