Page 33 of The Darkest Hour

The throbbing pain in my crotch was a brutal reminder of just how vulnerable I truly was, despite all my training and experience.

But beyond the pain, something else gnawed at me—a realization that no matter how strong, how ruthless, how prepared a man might be, there would always be a massive weakness.

And that weakness, more often than not, came in the form of a beautiful woman.

I wish she were a damn man. I would have killed her the moment I jumped out of the bed. I would have been out of here by now.

Beautiful women would always be the undoing of men, and Onyx was no exception.

She was a lethal combination of beauty and danger, her every move a deadly tango that both ensnared and repelled. Her soft curves, the way her body moved with such grace and power, her defiant brown eyes that sparkled with both fury and a hint of something more—it was all so goddamned intoxicating.

Fuck.

I tried to twist away from her, but she just clamped me right there.

The more I moved, the tighter her grip became until I couldn’t even turn or lift my arm. It was like fighting in a straightjacket made of steel.

Good-smelling steel.

Soft and sensual steel but hard and stubborn, just the same.

It didn’t help that I was naked and her clothed.

Our bodies warmed against each other.

And there was no space for escape, not that my cock wanted her off of us.

She was too well-trained for me to get out of it.

Is this how I will truly die? Never did I imagine it would be this way.

I gave up and simply let out a delirious chuckle at the ridiculous moment.

It was wrong that men like me, trained to kill without hesitation, could be brought to their knees by the allure of a woman like Onyx.

My heart pounded as I lay beneath her, my body still writhing from the pain.

Yet, amidst the agony, there was an undeniable thrill.

So fucking sexy.

The danger, the unpredictability, the raw intensity of it all—it stirred something deep within me.

I caught my breath. “Who sent you?”

Her legs clamped onto mine tighter. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Why doesn’t it matter?” I moved my hands to touch her.

She smacked them away and held my right arm above my head, and my left between our bodies. “My boss is on the way to get you.”

“And who is your boss?”

“You’ll see soon.” She leaned forward and kept her face inches from mine as she wrapped me into a compliant package under her. “Do you really want to know why I took your clothes off?”

I lifted my head and pressed the tip of my nose against hers. “I already know. You wanted to see if my cock was big.”

For the first time in that moment, a very wicked smile spread across her face. “And it is big.”