Getting to my feet, I smoothed my hand over my chest, over the healed sword wound. I retreated into the shadows of the cage until I reached the back door. Pushing it open, I descended the stone steps to my chambers.
I wanted to see her again. I wanted to breathe her in. I wanted to touch Miranda’s skin and feel her warmth. No, fuck that. I wanted her hot and out of control.
I meant what I said. I would be happy to school Miranda in fun, in exchange for her deadly services. That is, if I weren’t worried I’d go crazy and kill her.
I shoved down my pants, kicking them away as I grew hard. I followed one of the rocky paths to the pool of water. Slowly, I stepped into the cool water, immersing myself. As soon as I touched it, the water bubbled, heating up from my energy. I sunk in until it reached my chin. My hand fisted around my cock and I groaned.
The fantasy of Miranda falling apart under me played over in my mind as I stroked myself. Could I fuck away her worries, the inner workings of her mind? Could I make her eyes glaze over, and kiss her with such bruising force her already full lips would turn swollen from my abuse? I wanted her screaming and begging, mindless with need.
She’d fight me on it. She’d fight me every step of the way, vying for control and the upper hand. It was her nature. My hand moved faster along my straining, rigid flesh. Pleasure rippled through my spine, gathering in my balls.
Again, I had to question if I was reacting to her because I’d been trapped in solitude for so long. Was this about any morsel of flesh I could get my hands on?
No. I’d seen Grim and the other gods through the years. I’d even met Grim’s firecracker of a woman. But next to my angel of death, the sekhor was a mere muted spark.
Miranda was delectable in her own unique way. She shimmered and shone like a diamond and was even stronger than the precious gem.
An orgasm built at the base of my spine as I furiously pumped my engorged flesh. My pleasure wove in with my anger and bitterness. Two fires fueling each other. Dueling for release in my body and release from this existence. And now I felt imprisoned by my need for Miranda. She trapped me in a way I hadn’t expected. I wanted her. I wanted her all to myself. A monster taking his maiden back to his lair where I would treat her like a queen. But it would still be a prison and I would still be the beast.
Something crackled at the back of my mind, my senses overloading with power. The water glowed blue from my energy.
I panted as images tumbled through my fractured mind. Tying her up, making her feel as trapped as I was. Before touching, kissing every inch of her soft, luxurious skin. Tasting the bitterness of her scowl, until I coaxed out her sweetness, her screams for more. The world would splinter around us as I thrust home into her inviting body. I’d be surrounded by her strength, grounding her even as her foundation shook to pieces.
A rock shaking roar exploded from me when my release reached its precipice. The lights flickered. I released myself over the edge of the boiling spring.
As soon as I was spent, the vision swirling in my head shifted into a nightmare. Under me, Miranda was no longer a willing participant. Her face was a mask of horror, terrified I would hurt her.
The lights continued flickering, as if scared for her.
This time, another roar, more powerful yet mournful ruptured from my throat. I longed for death more than ever before if only to escape the visions of Miranda’s fear and disgust that circled my brain.
I burst from the spring, water surging up with me in a powerful blast. My rational side disappeared as pain engulfed me. Rage and agony pulsated like a pack of clawed demons gleeful to torment.
Then my agony folded over like a piece of paper, again and again, thickening with layers of Miranda’s fear, her revulsion of me.
Her sword carved through my flesh over and over again as the landscape shifted into sun baked black sands, then into the searing yellow light of the cradle of life. Tumbling, flying in agony until there was no beginning or end.
But it did finally end. Eventually, I found myself blinking on the floor. My muscles were stiff and frozen. I hadn’t died, but I was trapped in a body struck by rigor mortis.
Getting up slowly with great deliberation, I grunted through the pain to stand. I pushed the hair back from my face, taking everything in.
Fuck. My chambers were destroyed.
Usually I could make it to the cage before losing all control, but the episode had come on so quick. I hadn’t the wherewithal to get to the barred room. I’d found Miranda carved enough power off me that I couldn’t turn berserker even if I wanted to for hours. But the desire I had for her, along with the fear-fueled hallucinations, pushed me over the edge. The thought of hurting her was unbearable.
I limped over to the wall with a control panel. I pressed the button Timothy referred to as “room service.”
This is when I would normally wallow in the broken mess I’d created, let myself stew in it. The shadow images of Miranda in pain haunted me like dancing demons, refusing to give me relief. I needed to see her. I needed to know she was okay. That my craziness hadn’t somehow stretched out beyond these bars and hurt her.
Miranda would be back tomorrow. I might be on my way out with every thrust of her blade, and I was determined to die like a man, not a beast.
ChapterNine
THE BADASS
In the elevator, my heart quickened, and a hot flash of excitement possessed me. Our verbal sparring yesterday had opened up something in me. I wanted more. I wanted to talk to Xander more, fight with him more. All day, I’d been thinking about the scarred, broken god and his sharp tongue.
He illustrated a little too well what other things that tongue could do. I dreamt of the image he painted, waking up with a sheen of perspiration on me, and an insistent ache between my thighs. But I didn’t have time to give myself any relief.
