Page 41 of Immortal Throne

Not the way I expected, either, because I lunged at him. Mouth first.

I rose on my tiptoes to capture those plump, delicious lips with my own, grinding against his steel body. Sliding my hands up to his neck to tangle my fingers in his hair, I kept him in place.

Once again, Ryker refused to back down.

And this time I was so glad for it.

He growled, his arms becoming a cage around me as his tongue darted out to tangle with my own. His dream kiss had been divine. This was even better. The heat inside of me ignited into a full inferno.

I wanted more.

I wanted everything.

His touch was like a drug, increasing in intensity with each lick.

He pushed away.

We scrambled back from each other and I panted, blinking at him. My chest heaved, hands curling at my sides to keep from touching him again.

But I wasn’t done with him.

From the fire flicking in his emerald gaze and his scar visibly glowing red, he wasn’t done with me either.

We lunged together in unison, his hand squeezing my ass to pull me tight to his body. On a mountain ledge, in front of everyone waiting for the trial to begin, we made out like two drunk college freshmen at a frat party. I was ready to jump and wrap my legs around his waist to relieve the ache inside of me, to hell with the audience. To hell with hating him.

A distant part of my mind remembered he controlled people by touch. He was definitely touching me, but it wasn’t his power that made me want him.

His kisses were passion and light. They were searing and possessive and what I’d been missing in this life. Our mutual dislike of each other didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered because I lost myself in him.

Well, damn.

When we broke apart the second time, I didn’t try to grab him again. Something about his body language changed from open and aggressive to just pure aggressive.

Any lingering desire fled as he visibly shut down.

“I’m going to beat you today, Sloane,” he told me. “I’m going to beat you because you don’t deserve the throne and I do.”

I swiped a hand over my still pulsing lips. “That is a matter of personal opinion.”

“No, it’s not. My great-grandfather used to hold the title of Lucifer until your grandfather betrayed him and took the throne.”

I winced at the harshness of his voice.

Ryker continued, his face pulled into a dark grimace. “When that happened, my entire family was cursed. Reduced to scrubs, the lowest of the low. I’ve hated your family since birth. I’ve hated everything your bloodline stands for because of what it cost me and mine.”

Shoulders hunched, he stomped past me toward the portals.

“I didn’t have anything to do with what happened to your family,” I said when his shoulder brushed mine.

He paused, only a step or two past me. “I worked my way up because I’m a smooth talker, and I was able to become a guardian of the gates, monitoring travel in and out of the Underworld. Hell’s butler, some called me. But it’s not enough. I plan to take back what rightfully belongs to my family. Either get the fuck out of my way…or die.”

The low timbre of a loud gong interrupted my plans to cut Ryker down a notch or two. Give up or die? Who did he think he was?

I shouldered past him and stood with the group of contending demons. Ryker followed, stopping close enough behind me to breathe down my neck.

Doing my best to ignore him, I straightened to try to peer over the demons in front of me. The Council of Six now stood in front of the first portal with the royal guards, including Zane, forming a line on each side with their spears pointed at the group.

Zane must’ve walked away sometime during my make-out session with the enemy. Our gazes met and his lips quirked. I’d hear about the whole kissing thing later.

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