Now she scolded him. “Again,” she gritted out. “You’ll make me come again before you receive your own pleasure. And perhaps next time you’ll heed my orders to the letter.”

There won’t be a next time.

The thought almost chilled her desire. Almost. But too much did she crave him just then.

“Sorry. Sorry,” he babbled, which meant he wasn’t sorry at all.

A second finger joined the first, sinking in and out of her. All the while Gideon’s thumb played with that little bundle of nerves. Double stimulation, so good, so good, so damned good. More shadows, more screams.

“Don’t come, devil, don’t come.” His hips moved in sync with his words, rubbing against her, electrifying her enjoyment.

Just like that, Scarlet was propelled back to the sky, twirling, free, so overcome she might never be the same. Might? Ha.

“Don’t let me have you, please, don’t let me have you. Please.”

A plea he’d probably never uttered to another. And that he didn’t take her yet, that he waited for permission, spoke more of his intense need to relinquish control than his hesitant confession had.

That was why she didn’t give him what he craved. Not yet.

“Rip my panties the rest of the way off, but don’t enter me.”

The blue scrap of cloth was torn from her and resting beside her bra in less than a second. Gideon gripped her hips, fingers wrapping around to her ass. He pressed so determinedly, she knew she would have bruises. Bruises she welcomed.

“Not now?” Lines of tension branched from his eyes, and he was worrying his bottom lip so forcefully with his teeth, there was a trickle of blood running down his chin. He was on edge, desperate, but still he waited.

That roused her yet another degree, as if she hadn’t already climaxed twice.

“What have you fantasized about doing to other girls?” she asked him.

“Other girls? I remember all the other girls.” A broken admission. Strained. “I can think of everyone but you.”

He thought only of her. My darling. She couldn’t make him wait anymore.

“Inside,” she said, and he was lifting her, thrusting deep, roaring loud and long before the last syllable left her mouth.

Scarlet climaxed instantly, shuddering, her roar blending with his. Gods, he stretched her, hit her just right, and the orgasm was far more intense than any she’d ever experienced before. Even the screams and shadows shuddered. Even Nightmares bellowed.

Gideon, too, climaxed instantly, shouting her name, jetting hot seed inside her. Branding her, claiming her. Owning her. She could have basked in the sensations forever, could have remained one being, a part of Gideon, for eternity.

Or at least until his bedroom door crashed open and two angry Lords clomped inside the bedroom, weapons drawn.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

GIDEON HEARD the split of wood against metal, and knew his door had just been kicked down. Next he heard angry footsteps, a muttered, “What the hell?” from his friend Kane, and a growled, “Shit,” from Lucien.

They had to be confused. Scarlet’s shadows filled the room from one corner to the other, thick and dark and writhing. Worse, the screams that accompanied those shadows were louder than a bullhorn and more menacing than a war cry.“What should we do?” Kane demanded.

Clearly, neither warrior could see through the gloom. Shit, neither could Gideon. But he didn’t want either one of them shooting now and asking questions later.

“It’s not me,” he shouted above the noise, rolling Scarlet beneath him and jerking the covers over her naked body. Thankfully, she didn’t resist, and his urge to blind anyone who might see her so resplendent receded.

If he had his way, no one would see her bare but himself. And godsdamn, he was going to do everything in his power to have his way.

“Who’s there?” Lucien demanded.

“It’s not Gid. I’m not fine.”

“Gideon?” Kane’s shock was clear. “Strider told us you’d left.”

“Didn’t return.”

“What the hell’s going on in here?” Lucien again.

“Don’t give me a minute, and I won’t take care of things. Oh, and don’t stay put.” Gideon raised an expectant eyebrow at Scarlet. Much as he wanted to keep her hidden, he couldn’t. His friends needed to see her (covered), see how he looked at her, and know beyond any doubt that she belonged with him. That to harm her was to die. That simple.

“What?” Dragging the sheet with her, she squirmed out from under him and propped herself against the cracked headboard. Her expression was blank, though her color was high. Dark hair tangled around her beautiful face and she smoothed several strands away with a steady hand. Steady.

He didn’t like that. Not when he felt like an earthquake was even now raging through him. “As if you don’t know.”

“Fine. You want an audience for our afterglow, you’ll get an audience.” She closed her eyes, features hardening with her determination. A moment later, the shadows thinned and the screams quieted, both seeming to vapor-lock around her before being sucked completely inside her.

While she’d straddled him, while he’d thrust his shaft deep inside her, he’d forgotten that they were there. Hell, he’d forgotten everything. Except pleasure, that is.

And gods, had she given him pleasure. Nothing like that had ever happened to him before. But he’d dreamed of it. Dreamed of being at a woman’s mercy while she took what she wanted from him. That probably wasn’t something most warriors dreamed about, but over the years he’d disappointed too many women to count and that had been hell on his ego.

He’d say something like, “Don’t tell me what you want, I don’t want to know,” so the women wouldn’t tell him and he’d have to guess and of course, he’d sometimes—most times—get it wrong. Tonight, he hadn’t wanted to think about his next move. He hadn’t wanted to wonder if he was doing it right.

Scarlet had taken care of everything. Exquisitely.

Yeah, he’d shot like a fucking virgin the moment he’d entered her and was embarrassed as hell about that, but that only proved how much she’d aroused him. He’d known she was enjoying herself, that she was taking exactly what she needed, and that had increased his own enjoyment. Actually, everything about her had increased his enjoyment.

Her body fit his like a puzzle piece. Her scent was like nose candy and better than any ambrosia he’d ever snorted. Yeah, he’d been there, done that. Her skin was smooth, the perfect contrast to his callused hands, and her hair was perfect for fisting. Inside, she’d been wet and warm and tight enough to squeeze him.

But next time, he was going to be in control. He was going to demand, in his way, that she tell him exactly what she craved. She would know what he meant, and she would tell him the truth. Tell him what she really wanted him to do to her. And he would do it. Every damn thing. Nothing would be taboo. The dirtier the better.

Kane cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably from one booted foot to the other, and Gideon realized he’d been quietly staring at Scarlet, who was still watching him with that blank expression. He tried not to blush like a pussy but failed.

“Who’s she?” Hazel eyes brightening with amusement, Kane sheathed the two Sigs in his hands. He must not have seen Scarlet in the dungeon.

Gideon studied the warrior. His mix of brown, gold and black hair was shorter than when Gideon had last seen it. No doubt his friend had caught the strands on fire. Again. The man’s demon, Disaster, fed off catastrophes, purposely drawing them. In fact, one of the wooden shards that had flown from the busted door was lodged in Kane’s side, blood seeping from the wound and soaking his shirt.

“She’s my wife,” Gideon said, and even though the words were a lie, he liked saying them. Could hear the pride in his tone.

“Actually, I’m no one,” Scarlet stated baldly. “I’m nothing.”

Like hell, he thought, tossing her a glare. She was…everything.

Everything? His brow puckered. Surely that was an overstatement. He liked being with her, enjoyed her, had contemplated marrying her for real, felt married to her, and would even kill to protect her. But was she everything to him?

He could think of nothing he valued as much as he valued her. Not his war, not his weapons. Not even his friends. So, yeah. Maybe.

“She’s Nightmares,” Lucien said, his blades steadily pointed in Scarlet’s direction. “Aka one of the few prisoners who’s ever left our dungeons alive.” Unlike Kane, his eyes weren’t gleaming with amusement. His eyes—one blue that saw in the spiritual world, one brown that saw into the earthly realm—were calm and determined. He was possessed by Death, and could shred a soul in a single heartbeat of time. The blades were kind of overkill.

“I don’t suggest you lower your weapons. I’m sure you’d love for me to threaten Annie that way, just as I love how you’re threatening Scar.”

Annie, real name Anya. Lucien’s fiancée. The warrior’s face was terribly scarred, and as he ran his tongue over his teeth, those scars seemed all the more puckered. He was iron-willed, loved rules and took no risks when it came to the safety of his loved ones. Especially Anya.

“You could be making the suggestion under duress,” Lucien said. “So, I’ll keep my weapons where they are, thanks.”

“You’re right. I’m under duress.” Now put those godsdamn weapons away, before I’m forced to do something we’ll both regret, he wanted to shout. Lucien was his friend, and Gideon didn’t want to hurt him. But he would attack, no hesitation, to protect Scarlet. She’d been hurt enough.

Finally, the blades were sheathed. Reluctantly.

“Why aren’t you here? Feel free not to tell me and then stay as long as you want.” Which meant: Tell me and get your ass out! They’d seen Scarlet, knew she was important to him. Mission accomplished. He was ready to be alone with her.