When her tremors faded, he set in again, bringing her to another climax. And another and another, each one stretching longer than the last. He wavered between agony and ecstasy, nothing and everything in between.

  She squeezed his length as he slid his fingers free of her. “No, not done.” Her eyelids popped open, revealing glazed irises. “More, Astra.”

  “Much more.” He sucked her sublime taste from his skin. His need...oh, his need. Too much? He didn’t care.

  Will have all of her.

  “But first.” He flattened each palm against the rock and dug his claws deep, caging her in. Anchored like this, he was an unmovable tower. “I’m ready to reopen our discussion.”

  “Ohhhh. Are you now?” Holding his gaze, grazing his slit, she nipped his lower lip. “Is my Astra ready for his reciprocation?”

  He gave her the truth. “I’m dying for it, nymph.”

  * * *

  With her free hand, Ophelia glided her nails along Halo’s washboard abs and glorious happy trail. As his lips parted, she grew as vulnerable as she was aroused. This male was destroying her defenses with only his fingers and a claim of ownership.

  He can satisfy me. I know he can. But would he claim her?

  “I’ve thought it over,” she said, releasing his length to run her fingers up his arms. “I’ve decided to hire you as my concubine. On a trial basis, of course.”

  He arched a brow, seemingly fighting a groan or a smile or both. “Oh, you wish to command me, do you?”

  Yes. No. Yes? Mostly, she wanted a reason to never stop touching him. “You’ll be highly interested in my benefits package, I promise you. Talk about mind-blowing.”

  “Will I find it satisfactory then?”

  “Again and again and again.”

  He pressed a soft kiss into her lips. “Do you want to know what I’ll give you for this?”

  She licked her lips, nodded. Her heart thudded.

  Eyes fierce, he said, “Elia, I will give you worlds.”

  The words—the emotions behind them—jolted her. Thoughts tangled as he bent his head to brush the tip of his nose against hers, then press his forehead to hers. As if they were two puzzle pieces fitting together, his jagged edges complementing hers.

  Walls she hadn’t known she’d built around her heart cracked, threatening to crumble. Panic bloomed in the aftermath, but she stuffed it in a box, to be unpacked later. Right now, she wanted to taste this male more than anything else in the world.

  “I’m going to love sucking you off, Halo.” Eyes hooding, she asked, “Do you want me to?”

  His nostrils flared. He popped his claws free of the stone and gripped her hips. “Yes! Suck me off, Elia. Love it.”

  He was so eager, as if everything they did was a revelation. Did he know how intoxicating that was to someone like her? The fact that he was the coldest, hottest male forged in the depths of her deepest fantasies, well, that was the icing on the cake. He wasn’t cold right now, though. No, every part of him burned. Even the alevala. The images had gone still again, every gaze hot on her, searing her skin.

  Another crack of thunder boomed as lightning split the darkness. Cold raindrops fell, splashing all around. Though she was naked, the breeze chilled, she only continued to heat. Halo the Furnace looked as wild as the terrain around them; he was shirtless, his chest littered with scratches. Wearing only a pair of gaping leathers, he made her desperate to be filled.

  Splattered with droplets, Ophelia eased to her knees.

  He heaved his breaths. Pleasure and strain warred for control of his face, leaving his features set in an agonized mask.

  His body was strung as tight as a bow, his massive erection stretched before her. How her poor Astra must ache.

  “Do not tease me, Elia.” He tangled his fingers in her hair. “I need your lips. Suckle the tip. Slide to the base. Suck hard and harder. Need this, need this.” He chanted the words as if he could no longer think of anything else.

  He needed it. Needed her. The knowledge made her hungry...

  Wanting him to see the eagerness in her eyes, she flicked her gaze back to his. Tendons pulled taut in his neck as she licked from root to tip.

  “Yes, Elia!” His breathing quickened, his chest seeming to rise and fall with great effort. “More. Do it.”

  Shivering, she fit her lips over the crown and laved his slit with slow strokes of her tongue. Animal sounds rumbled from him as he bowed up.

  His potent reaction to her every touch ratcheted her desires. Down she went, taking as much of him as possible. Up. His fingers flexed against her scalp. A lick of the head. Mmm. If ever passion had a taste, it was this man, dotted in rain.

  “That’s the way, Elia. You’re making me feel so good.” He growled the last. More and more tension roiled from his body.

  Up, down. Up, down. Hoarse bellows left him. Despite his great need, the fingers he kept in her hair remained gentle. Her own pleasure intensified.

  “Killing me so sweetly,” he told her between sawing breaths. The torrent of rain softened to a light patter.

  Thrumming, aching, she reached between her legs and pressed. Yes! She moaned around his length, wrenching another groan from him. He rocked just a bit...a little more...pumping his hips, tightening his grip on her hair, pulling the strands, giving and taking and Ophelia could not get enough.

  “Going to...not ready...but my nymph is forcing me. Elia!” With a shout, Halo shot his seed down her throat.

  Ophelia swallowed, greedy for every drop. Need more...more...more... A brutal climax broke free inside her. Releasing him, she screamed and whimpered. As she came down from the highest of highs, she entered a near-euphoric state, both needier and more sated than she’d ever been in her life.

  “The things you make me feel, nymph.” He sank to his knees before her. “Hearing you come...knowing you loved tasting me... I am undone.”

  The rain shower dissipated completely. With his hair plastered to his scalp, droplets wetting his lashes, he appeared as wild as the landscape. He sat and pulled her close, those glowing eyes issuing a thousand commands and even more promises.

  All she could do was sag against him, breathing, “By the way, I liked everything.” Except, he still hadn’t claimed her. No stardust, no gravita. But that was a worry for tomorrow. Here, now, she felt too good.

  He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her. In this position, her cheek pressed against his shoulder and, oh wow, okay, this wasn’t exactly a comfortable fit. Ophelia wiggled to politely but obviously point out that his less than stellar after-hold needed major tweaking.

  “Now then,” he said with a calm, businesslike tone. “We will be discussing what happened between us—and what will happen between us in the future. You will not run from me.”

  Whoa, whoa, whoa. “Discuss it? Out loud?” Before she’d figured out her own feelings on the matter? “You let me go this instance, Halo. I mean it.”

  “We climax, we cuddle, we talk. That is your life now. Best make your peace with the notion, harpy.”

  “Astra! I mean it. There will be no discussion about anything.” She beat her fists against his shoulders. “You are so lucky I don’t dislike you enough to hate you right now.”

  “You feel some affection for me. Admit it.”

  He just had to dive straight into the deep end, didn’t he? “I admit nothing.”

  “Then you owe me another kiss.” Without a pause, he said, “I want to keep you. Do you want to keep me?”

  “I. Admit. Nothing.”

  “Another kiss.” He didn’t loosen his grip, but he didn’t tense up, either.

  “Just...give me time to think, okay?”

  “That, I can do. As long as you are in my arms.”

  They lapsed into silence, leaving her to ruminate, cuddle, and stew.

  Affection. For Halo. The overprotective warlord with no heart now clinging to her as if she were a lifeline. Well, maybe he owned a tiny sliver of a heart. It wasn’t like he was awful all the time. There were moments he was downright adorable.

  Oh...crap. She did feel affection for him, and a lot of it—she felt it without the promise of stardust.

  A kernel of fear settled deep in her chest. Guilt wasn’t far behind. She was falling for the domineering male, while also setting herself up for a terrible splat. Every moment she retained her secrets, she created more of a no-win situation for herself.

  But nothing had changed. If she caved and told him the truth about the beasts, he would fight to bench her. Might think she was working with Erebus, then deem her an enemy, unnecessarily dividing his focus. But if she kept her secret until the end, he might not forgive her. On the other hand, she might not require his forgiveness. Couples broke up all the time. Or he might not be upset at all. For all she knew, he would thank her for helping him win. And she would help him. The deep-seated assurance of victory had only grown stronger.

  Halo wasn’t the type to back down, though. No, he was more likely to double down. There was no male more stubborn. A fact that answered a burning question for her.

  No, Ophelia Falconcrest could not have it all.

  19

  Deserve this. I really do.

  The little temptress certainly loved to keep Halo in agony after they exchanged pleasures. He ground his teeth as he redirected her slight weight and flashed her to his bedroom.

  She wore her pensive face, the world forgotten as she debated something inside her head. Halo had watched her do this a thousand times the past week. The outcome usually never skewed in his favor.

  He laid her on the bed and stripped out of his wet leathers, then settled in beside her and gathered her close, luxuriating in the utter rightness. Having never met a woman like Ophelia—having never even entertained the notion of such feminine perfection—he hadn’t understood why other males wasted time with cuddling. Now? He understood the appeal all too well.

  Beyond my wildest imaginations. She was teaching him to crave every carnal indulgence. I will win her. Nothing will stop me.

  During their briefings with the Commander and the General, Halo had gathered much information about Ophelia. She was defensive but vulnerable. Secretive, and always in survival mode. Soft and hard. Eager to laugh or argue, and sometimes both at the same time. Playful. Impish. Relentless.

  The conclusion? He coveted both her mind and her body—and he would have them.

  Every complaint she’d voiced had revolved around the task. She wished to participate and “pad her résumé.” Though it was clear her sights were no longer set on becoming General, she sought more power. Despite the dangers to her life, he thought he could get on board with the quest—after the completion of the task. To keep her, he would have to. He was wise enough to reason out that much. But then, he would be taking extreme measures to ensure her safety.

  Erebus and his phantoms would not be taking the harpymph from Halo. Guard what’s yours or lose it.

  She didn’t seem to understand that he wished to partake in her joy, not leach it from her.

  As he recalled her hoarse bellows and screams, he grinned up at the ceiling. He loved the way her scent fused with his, becoming theirs. Loved how her breaths fanned his sensitive skin. Loved so many things about their time together.

  Why hadn’t he produced stardust?

  “I’m not taking a nap with you, so don’t even think about it,” she muttered, reminding him of warm honey slowly poured over a hot cake as she roused from her musings and melted into him. “But, to thank you for services rendered, I’m willing to stay for a short chat about nothing. Your heat is my kryptonite.” A grumble.

  He kissed her brow. “Other females would kill to use me as a scratchpad and discuss their day. My first and second concubines tried, and they lost their positions.”

  “Yes, and I’m sure they cried buckets of tears when you fired them.” Ophelia rolled her eyes. “By the way, you’re about to get fired from the same position for the same reason. Mistress O No prefers her men less talky.”

  He remembered her defense of her nicknames the day they’d met. Knowing her better now, he thought she might have been embarrassed of them. “Do you desire a new moniker, Ophelia? If so, we will get you a new moniker. Whatever you wish.”

  “Uh, not likely. Other people get to pick our nicknames for us, always. It’s an unwritten rule. Isn’t it?” She dug her claws into his pectoral and gasped out, “Halo, can we pick nicknames for ourselves?”

  “Harpy, we can do whatever we want. When we tell someone to use a certain title, they will use a certain title. There will be no exceptions.”

  She rewarded his honesty with an infectious laugh as earth-shattering as her touch. “From now on, I’m Ophelia the...something. I need a moment.”

  “Our deal still stands. As long as you are in my arms, you may take as much time as you require.”

  As she muttered ideas under her breath, Halo cast his gaze over the room. A candlelit lunch—attempt two—had been prepared by Ian before the freeze. The food waited untouched on a small round table near the crackling hearth. A bottle of vodka chilled in an ice bucket. He’d noticed the twenty empty ones in her bunkroom, figured she enjoyed the beverage, and made a special request this morning.

  “Perhaps you’ll think clearer with a full stomach,” he suggested.

  “But I’m not ready to leave the cocoon of your warmth.” She plucked her claws free and rested a palm above his heart, tentative, as if trying out the new pose.

  He wasn’t ready to leave, either. “Have you watched any memories of my alevala lately?”

  “Only the elfin goddess with the pet unicorn. You were so cold and callous to her.”

  Ah, yes. Halo had been unable to kill the elf as easily as his other targets. The powerful female had possessed the ability to blend into her surroundings with such seamlessness, he’d been unable to find her. And he could find anyone. To draw her out, he and the other Astra captured and trapped her favorite pet, creating a transparent doorway before it. The moment she had slipped through that doorway, she had entered a duplicate realm, allowing Halo to track her every movement from then on, blending in or not.

  “She stood between me and the well-being of my brothers,” he explained.

  “And all obstacles get obliterated. Yeah. I remember.” Bitterness tinged her words, confusing him.

  “Had I not defeated her, I would not be here with you.” He would have done much worse to get here.

  “Yes, but at the time, you didn’t know someone as glorious as me would ever cross your path.”

  If he wished to win this harpy, he must share something of himself. Give and get. Sow and reap. An unavoidable fact of life. “You resent my coldness. But I would not have survived the Order without it.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “The instructors used pain to teach me to shut down. To forge ahead, no matter my thoughts, feelings, or desires. That kind of training is difficult to shed.” He waggled his jaw before admitting, “If ever a hindrance kept me from reaching a goal, I lost something precious to me.”

  “That sucks. I’m sorry.” As she petted him, he decided sharing wasn’t so bad, after all. “It explains a lot. You equate punishment with emotion and fight what you feel.”

  Until you. Everything she elicited, both the good and the bad, came with rewards. Excitement and ease. Effortless pleasures. Anticipation...

  “The same can be said of you, eh?” he asked, playing with her hair.

  “I wasn’t disciplined if I messed up, but I was made to feel like the world’s biggest failure.” She steepled her hands and propped her cheek atop them. “Tell me you killed your instructors.”

  “I did. Violently.” The memory pleased him to this day. “Chaos purchased and trained me alongside the other Astra. They showed me how to rely on someone other than myself. Eventually trust grew. A bond formed. Together, we returned to the Order and gifted pieces of the instructors to their students as trophies.” He turned the spotlight on her. “What do you know of your father?”

  “Oh. Well.” She appeared startled that he’d asked. “I’ve never met him. I don’t even know his name, which is often the case for harpies born outside of a consort.”

  His chest clenched. His harpy daughters would know him; he’d make sure of it.

  Halo blinked. His daughters? As if making a family with his gravita was a done deal. As if he craved it deep, deep inside.

  Was it? Did he?

  His chest clenched harder, bones seeming to crack.

  She scooted a little closer, as if she hoped to soothe him. “As second-in-command of the entire army, you wield a ton of power. And as someone who has been on the receiving end of your authority, you wield that power well. Obviously, you love control. But do you ever want to throw your hat in the ring and fight to be the big boss man?”

  “I agreed to assume the title if necessary, but I’ve never desired to wear the Commander’s helmet. I deal with enough strain. There’s no reason to add more now that I have other endeavors.” Gaining more moments like this. Getting his woman naked and in his arms every morning, every evening. And any yearning to dominate, he could now exercise with his harpymph, who loved breaking and heeding his orders, orchestrating his sexual torment either way.

  She scooted closer still. “What do you plan to do after you ascend and kill Erebus? Find another enemy? Have fun?”

  He believed he might like to spend the next few decades in bed with his gravita. A promisingly sweet future indeed. In fact, a strange warmth spread through him at the thought. Strange, and yet he thought he might recognize it, as if remnants of it had somehow survived the ages.

  Hope.

  Rather than looking ahead and seeing eons of old and new burdens to bear between repeated trials and tribulations, he beheld a feast of pleasures and contentment, his for the taking.