Dark Before Dawn (The Protector Guild Book 7), page 39
I moaned in pleasure as his lips met mine, his tongue tangling with mine at the pace of each thrust.
At first, the movements were hurried and urgent—the kind of explosion that only came from months of repression, like if we didn’t take each other now, we never would. It was the same hurried thrusts as the first and only other time we’d fucked.
But I felt the shift as he slowed down, as he pressed his forehead against mine, his hand cupping my face as he rolled his hips against mine.
His other hand massaged and teased my nipple, going lower and lower with delicious restraint, until he circled my clit.
His tongue followed the path, down my neck, my chest, my belly.
I grunted in frustration, wanting his dick back inside of me, but he kept going, nipped playfully at my hip bone, until he found my clit with his tongue—turning my protests into pleas for more.
He swept his tongue inside of me, his scraggly beard doing delicious things against the sensitive flesh there. He held me still, kept me from full-on humping his face with a lean forearm pressed across my stomach.
The resistance, the denial of movement, only amplified every sensation, made me crave every touch, every breath that he bestowed.
His groan vibrated against me as he ate me out like a starving man.
“This,” he rasped, dark eyes darting to the abandoned plates of food on his bedside table, “is the only meal I’ve been hungry for.” He swirled his tongue over my clit, eyes watching my every reaction with a ravenous hunger that bordered on wonder—on obsession. “The only taste I’ve wanted on my tongue for months.” Teeth scraped against me, until I squealed and squirmed against him, on the edge of ecstasy, my lungs offering me nothing but breathy, needy pants. “The only sounds I’ve wanted to hear.” Two fingers slipped inside of me, the sound loud and slick as he worked me. “Let me feast on you, Max, let me taste my own surrender on your lips.”
His lips closed over me again and sucked until I couldn’t find the edge any more—there was only falling.
My vision blurred from the force of my orgasm, every inch of my flesh his as I turned to jelly.
But he wasn’t done.
He worked me, reading the waves of pleasure that pulsed through me, until the first orgasm rolled into a second, even more powerful one.
“Fuck,” he whispered, licking up every ounce of liquid I gave him, “I could come just from watching you.”
The walls of my pussy throbbed, begging for more.
A feral need took over.
Like hell was he coming anywhere but inside of me.
Clawing at his shoulders, I pulled him up, shoving his shoulders down and rolling until he lay where my head had rested only a moment before.
I speared myself on him, my body craving the fill of him as my fingers dug into his chest.
His breathing picked up, eyes filled with rapture as he watched me ride him.
“How do you usually like it?” I asked, every inch of me flaring to life with the energy of his lust. I wanted him to feel as high on this moment as I felt.
His hand gripped my thigh, kneading into it with a punishing force as he sat up, lips hot against my neck. “Anything I’ve ever liked pales in comparison to this.” His fingers dug into me, as he pulled me as far down onto him as I could go, like even that wasn’t enough. “Pales in comparison to you.” He rolled me back for a moment, only to pull me back down with more force. My fingers dug into his shoulder blades, carved trenches down his back. “There is only you, Max. That’s the only thing I want. Whenever, however you’ll have me.”
I clenched around him, the openness in his face, the honesty in his eyes almost as hot as the feeling of his dick hard and demanding inside of me. “I’m yours, Atlas. I’ve always been yours.”
Something shifted in him at my words. And for all of the initial softness, Atlas was no gentle lover—the feral edges of his nature seeped into our union like vines. The dark black of his eyes cut through with a thin streak of gold, and my breath stilted with happiness.
They’d taken a lot from him, but they hadn’t managed to take the wolf, his inner fight, after all.
We clung to each other with a wild desperation as we fucked, our bodies slick with heat and sweat and need that controlled us both—one we’d fought for months. No more. When we kissed, I tasted blood, our mouths a battle of tongue and teeth as we pushed each other to the edge, both vying for ownership of the other— for submission.
There was a loud crack, then a crash, then we rolled from the now lopsided mattress—the bed frame broken and forgotten.
That was fine; the floor, messy and sturdy, was more suited to our war than any bed could be.
I bit down on his shoulder as my orgasm tore through me, my pussy spasming around him, still vying for control, for his surrender. And she received it. With a roar, he followed me over, his teeth buried into me as we pulsed together.
We lay like that, framed in a haze of our lust, no sound but our uneven breaths, as we clung to one another.
I felt fuller than I had, maybe ever.
More right.
Complete.
27
MAX
It was dark, the air filled with the briny freshness of the sea. Soft waves trickled to the shore, breaking at my feet before the sea pulled them back, out of reach.
I bent down, my hand hovering a few inches above the water.
“I wouldn’t.” The voice was cold, dark. Familiar.
Craning my neck around, I got a look at him. Tall, ominous as always, dark eyes glittering in the night, like they owned it. “Lucifer? Where are we? Did you pull me back here already?”
His dark brow arched as he studied me. “Interesting. You have enough power to pull me into a dreamscape—something that no demon has had the strength to do in decades, mind you—yet you’re weak enough not to recognize that you’re doing it. You’re a girl full of contradictions, aren’t you?”
I fell back on my ass, rested my forearms on my knees as I studied the lake in front of us. It reminded me of the Styx, but the waves were a crystal blue-green—the vibrant color somehow visible even in the dark.
“How could I pull you to a dreamscape? I thought that was supposed to be almost impossible across the realms.” I’d only been able to manifest dreams with Wade because of our connection.
For a long moment, he said nothing, just stared out across the sea, no land on the horizon in sight.
A soft wind blew through his dark hair, disrupting the usually rigid style he wore. The dark cloak was wrapped around him.
“I’m not entirely sure.” His eyes narrowed, frustration evident in their depths. Lucifer didn’t like being in the dark on anything. “You must be near a portal, some kind of magical juncture. That, or your power has grown immensely since we last met.” He shrugged, studying me. “Perhaps both.”
I closed my eyes, focused on the power coursing through me. “I feel more powerful. More alive than I have in a long time.”
My skin tingled, power and connection flowing through every vein, every bone.
He studied the ground for a moment, considering, then sat down on the rocky shoreline next to me. “Your bonds have strengthened. Considerably, if I had to guess. Seems you and your team have finally found a way past the childish will-they-won’t-they you’ve been exhausting me with since the moment I met you.” A small almost-grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “Unfortunately, that means Samael won our bet.”
I physically had to restrain my eyes from rolling. “Yes, well, not all of us are as freely giving of our love as you are, unfortunately.”
He snorted, the sound startling a small jump from me. It was so human-sounding that, for a moment, his hard edges softened into something else, a ghost of who he used to be, maybe.
There was an ease about him in this dream realm, the hard, intimidating mask he so often wore abandoned in sleep. Or perhaps with a realm between us, he didn’t see the need to wear it.
Did we all do this? Hide ourselves from each other? Erect walls to protect us from pain, from love?
“Touché.” He picked up a pile of small, uneven rocks, studying them with interest as the sandy stones tumbled from one hand to the other. “I’d almost forgotten how real these dreams could feel, how intricate.”
I didn’t say anything, just watched the usually hard lines of his back relax a fraction.
“You remind me of her,” he whispered, eyes still focused on the gravel in his hands, “a lot. She,” he cleared his throat, straightened his spine again, “she would be proud of you, I think. I’m sorry that you never got to know her.”
A wave of emotion got stuck in my throat. I sniffed, stared out at the water until my vision cleared.
I didn’t know how to have this kind of conversation with him. There were moments when I could forget entirely that he was my father, that I had this whole family history that didn’t involve Cy or Ro.
Remembering felt almost like a betrayal to the home I loved.
“You’re different here,” was all I managed to shape into words.
He sniffed, nodding. “The magic of this realm, the power you wield, makes it difficult to keep guards up. It’s one of the greatest strengths dream demons possess. Some think it’s about lust, sex. But there is real power in rendering your enemies vulnerable in this way.”
I studied him. “Is that what you are? My enemy?”
A shadow fell over his expression, a flash of something that looked almost like pain. “I am not your friend.”
A strange knowing churned deep in my gut, a suspicion I’d been wrestling with for months hardening into a truth.
“The ritual,” I started, clearing my throat, “the nexus, the abraxas stone, my power. Once we have your three things, what will happen?”
His jawline sharpened, his eyes not meeting mine as he dropped the gravel back to the ground and wiped his hands along his pants, dispelling the finer remnants. “You will act as a catalyst, a filter for the barrier to sift through. The final anchor.”
His eyes darted to mine briefly, then cut back to the water. It was long enough for me to see the sharp sting of regret in their depths.
“I won’t survive it, will I?” My voice was hollow, but somehow, even though I was certain that I knew the answer to my question, I didn’t fear it.
“I’ve tried. I’ve been looking for a way, another solution—” he took a slow, deep breath, then shook his head. “No, I don’t think that you will.”
My throat tightened as I nodded.
Was this what he’d been doing?
All those times he’d left on some mysterious mission?
Trying to find a way, a magical deus ex machina that would allow me to survive this war I’d been thrust into the middle of?
Strangely, my chest squeezed at the sentiment.
His distance made so much more sense now. Why allow yourself to get close to a daughter, to become invested in her life, if you knew that she was destined to die?
“The blood oath,” I said, with a small chuckle, knowing with a vicious certainty that this was the real reason he wanted control over my will. It wasn’t to bring me to hell for training at his every whim. It was to ensure that when it came time to sacrifice myself, I wouldn’t back down.
I’d broken the oath, I’d have no choice when it came time for the ritual. No way to refuse, even if I wanted to. He ultimately controlled my actions, until he relinquished that power.
I wouldn’t though—I couldn’t. Not if my survival would mean everyone else’s demise. It was a failsafe he didn’t need.
Both of us sat there in silence as the heaviness of the moment fell over us. His hand wrapped around mine, surprisingly soft—gentle, even.
But he wouldn’t look at me, wouldn’t meet my eyes.
Instead, we just lingered in the loud silence, the waves a soft, mournful battle cry.
I felt dizzy, armed with this knowledge, but also oddly calm.
If the alternative was the realms collapsing into each other, everyone in hell and everyone in the human realm dying? Well, my death seemed like a bargain.
My toes slipped into the water, an arctic chill slicing through me.
I heard Lucifer’s voice, but couldn’t make out the words. Instead, the water engulfed me, pulled me under.
My lungs fought for air as the cold numbed my limbs. I searched for light, for a way to the surface, my mind wrestling with the possibility of simply sinking to the bottom, letting myself drift like an anchor to the hidden depths below.
Something sharp tugged at my chest, a sudden urge to fight ringing strong through every bone in my body. I clawed my way to the surface, my vision blacking at the edges as I fought to stay conscious.
But it was too far, too hard.
A hand closed around me, then another, tugging me forward.
I gasped with my whole body as my face broke the surface.
Darius dragged me to the beach, where the others were swimming to meet us—all of them soaked, eyes wide with panic.
The dreamscape was gone, replaced by the crystal calm of the lake, of the forest surrounding it—beautiful.
“What the hell happened?” Wade asked, as Darius, dripping wet, picked me up and cradled me in his arms, tugging me against his chest.
He was trembling, but not from the chill, his eyes wild with fear as they scanned every inch of me.
The full moon beat down on them all like a spotlight—Declan, Atlas, Wade, Eli, and Darius.
All of them strong, all of them mesmerizing.
Something must have called to them, pulled them to me.
I felt their panic, felt their fear radiate through me, clawing and demanding.
“It was a dream,” I said, my voice wobbly as my body fought for the oxygen it had been denied. “Just a dream. I must’ve sleep-walked out here by accident.” I met each of their eyes, willing them to believe it, to feel it. “I’m okay.”
And for now, surrounded by them all, I was.
Even if I knew now that it couldn’t last.
THANK YOU FOR READING
This book was the culmination of so many aspects of Max’s journey that I set out to explore in this series, and I can’t wait to continue writing and living in this world.
If you loved hanging with Max and the members of Team Six, don’t miss out on the final installment of their story. Grab a copy of The World Undone.
In the meantime, want inside of Darius’s head? Sign up for my newsletter for a special bonus chapter detailing his thoughts when first meeting Max.
SAVING THE PROTECTOR
Interested in learning more about the history between Charlie, Bishop, Dani, and Darius?
Check out Saving the Protector, a standalone prequel novella.
ABOUT GRAY
I’m a teacher by day and a writer by night (and, occasionally, I moonlight as a bartender as well). Most of my time is happily spent hanging out with my cartoonish dogs (who are spoiled to the core, as they should be), going for meandering walks around the city, and reading everything I can get my hands on.
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Gray Holborn, Dark Before Dawn (The Protector Guild Book 7)
