at the time had no way of knowing that there was even a chance of coming back.
Quinn hadn’t made promises. She didn’t owe Lazarus anything.
Yet, she couldn’t help the unease.
She loved to toy with him in front of others. Leave them with lingering touches. But Mazzulah was a god, one who had been playing games far longer than them.
“Why does the god of the dark realm want you?” he asked, seeming to piece together what she tried not to say.
“Everyone wants what they can’t have,” she said flippantly.
Hands nearly hot as the fire grabbed her hips and pulled her onto his lap. Her back pressed against his chest. His shaft throbbed against her backside.
“Not everyone,” he said quietly, his lips skimming the hollow of her ear.
Quinn parted her legs so that his were in between hers. Her breath quickened. This feeling . . . this heat that blazed through her . . . she never wanted it to stop.
This was what it meant to be alive, and in his arms she no longer felt so cold the dark realm would rip her away.
“Did Mazzulah touch you this way?” he asked, sliding a rough palm over her stomach and through the patch of curls at the apex of her thighs. His fingers slid between her folds, toying with her.
“No,” she breathed.
“Mmm,” he hummed, slipping two fingers in her. His palm pressed into her clit, and she threw her head back against his shoulder and groaned. Her legs opened wider on their own accord. “And this way?”
“Never,” she panted.
Lazarus used her free hand to grasp her chin and turn her face. His lips brushed over hers, and Quinn shuddered, rocking into him.
“What about these?” He ran his thumb over her lips. Quinn’s half-hooded eyes opened, and her silence spoke the truth.
Lazarus’ face hardened.
But he didn’t reprimand her. He didn’t scold her. He didn’t make outlandish claims. While he always sought to control her, he didn’t cross that line as much as she wondered he might.
Lazarus removed the hand from between her thighs, and Quinn growled. Lazarus snarled right back as he dropped both hands to her hips once more.
“Hands on my knees,” he commanded.
Curious about where this was going, Quinn obeyed.
He lifted her several inches, and it was only her hands gripped tightly on her knees that kept Quinn from careening forward. His tip brushed against her entrance.
Then her body came down.
Quinn gasped as Lazarus filled her in one go.
“I don’t care what you did with Mazzulah. You’re here now. You’re mine,” he snapped, lifting her once more to slide up and down his shaft.
“I’m no one’s,” Quinn replied harshly as they settled into a rhythm. “And that’s a lie if there ever was one.”
Their skin slapped together as Lazarus sped up, pounding into her with a brutality meant to punish.
“You’re right,” he said through gritted teeth. “I do care. I’m seething inside that you let someone else touch you. I’m furious that you contacted Draeven before me. I’m burning with the need to tie you to my bed and win this war myself—so that I don’t lose you.” His voice turned hoarse as emotion clogged it, but not something sweet or kind. This was a dark possession that sought to own.
“I’m already dead,” Quinn reminded him, breathing heavier.
“I know. Not only do I get a second chance—you won’t age or die either. I wanted five years, then I lost you and now forever is in my grasp.”
“Lazarus,” she moaned, both a reprimand and a plea.
One of his hands slid around to her front. Two blunt fingers whorled around her clit, sending Quinn into a frenzied state. Her toes touched the ground and her muscles strained as she worked herself up and down his shaft.
Pain ripped through her shoulder as Lazarus bit down there. She knew without looking that he’d drawn blood. Lazarus groaned beneath her, and Quinn let out a garbled cry as her channel trembled. Lights exploded behind her eyes as everything went black. Quinn’s body twitched and shuddered under Lazarus’ control, and those two fingers continued to stroke her even after it turned from pleasurable to painfully too much.
Lazarus wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her entirely as he stood. A few long strides and the soft mattresses pillowed her front as he positioned her on the edge of the bed.
“I should have let you go when I found you, but we’re both so far gone beyond that now. I don’t love you, Quinn. Love is too weak