The Darkest Fire Read Online Free PDF

know.”
    One hesitant step, two. At that pace, he would never reach her. Sighing, she closed the rest of the distance herself, twined their fingers—experienced a powerful jolt, gasped—and led him to the rocks. “Sit. Please.”
    As he obeyed, he tugged his hand from her and rubbed where they’d been connected. Had the same jolt pierced him? She hoped it had, for she did not want to be alone in this…attraction. Yes, attraction, she realized. Physical, erotic. The kind that prompted a woman to leave her inhibitions and invite a man into her bed.
    Whether that invitation was accepted or not was a different story.
    Reluctant as Geryon was, she was positive he would turn her down. And perhaps that was for the best. Her lovemaking tended to scare men away. Because when the pleasure hit her, she could not control her nature. The chains she’d erected broke, unleashing her will with a vengeance.
    Physically, her lovers became her slaves. Mentally, they cursed her, knowing she had stolen their freedom of choice, unwitting though it had been. She had never bedded the same man twice, and, after three tries, had stopped altogether. One she had considered bad luck. Two, a coincidence. Three, undeniably her fault.
    How would Geryon respond? Would he hate her? Probably. Already he knew the horrors of being bound to someone else’s will. She would not doubt if freedom was the most precious commodity in his life.
    Sighing, she tore several strips of cloth from the bottom of her robe and knelt in front of him, between his legs. His shaft was hidden by a short skirt of leather and metal filigree. A warrior’s cloth. Perhaps it was wanton of her, but she wanted to see him there . She licked her lips, thinking maybe, perhaps, what if she–
    As if he could read her mind, he sucked in a breath. “Don’t,” he said.
    â€œI’m sorry. I—”
    â€œDon’t stop.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    Don’t stop . Did he mean for her to move his armor out of the way? Or simply to clean him as she’d promised? Already he was nervous, on edge, and had resisted even the slightest of handling. Afraid to risk a mistake, she leaned in, reached up and mopped the blood from his face with one of the strips of cloth. Acting the coward again, are we?
    His delectable scent filled her nose, a midnight breeze that inexplicably reminded her of home. A sprawling, opulent home she had not been able to visit since reluctantly agreeing to oversee the fortification of hell. How she missed it.
    â€œIn all the years I have known you,” she said, carefully avoiding the deepest gash, “you have never left your post at the gate. Do you eat?” At first contact, he had jumped. But she maintained a steady, casual rhythm and he gradually relaxed.
    Perhaps one day he would allow her to do more. Would she enslave him, though, as she had the others?
    â€œNo. There’s no need.”
    â€œReally?” Even she, a goddess, needed food. She could survive without it, yes, but she would waste away, becoming a mere shell of herself. “How, then, do you survive?”
    â€œI’m not sure. I know only that I stopped needing food the day I was brought here. Perhaps the fire and smoke sustain me.”
    â€œSo you don’t miss it? The tastes and textures, I mean?”
    â€œIt’s been so long since I’ve seen even a crumb that I rarely think of food anymore.”
    She wanted to feed him, she thought. Wanted to sweep him out of this nightmare and into a banquet hall with tables piled high, food of every kind gracing their surfaces. She wanted to watch his face light in ecstasy as he sampled one of everything. No one should be forced to go without such nourishment.
    When his face was clean, she switched her attentions to his right arm. Angry claw marks glared at her, and she knew they had to be hurting him. Not by word or deed did he betray it, though. No, he actually