Eternal Rider - Larissa Ione [115]
“Do not touch her!”
Pestilence shot Ares a glance dripping with false innocence. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is she yours? You don’t want to share? After all we’ve been through?”
Ares’s mind clicked through his options, and came up with pretty much nothing. Pestilence had the wheel right now, and Ares was the jackass who’d been shoved in the trunk.
Ripping open his pants, Pestilence stalked over to Cara, and Ares’s cool evaporated and turned to scalding steam. He went crazy, kicking, jerking. Either the ceiling was coming down, or his arms were ripping from their sockets. Didn’t matter. He had to get to Cara.
“Human.” Pestilence’s fangs punched down violently. “Did Ares ever tell you how he was forced to watch what happened to his wife?” He grabbed Cara by the throat and lifted her. She struggled in his grip, clawing at his hands. “Violated, tortured, killed. Right in front of him.”
“Shut up,” Cara croaked. Her knee came up, catching Pestilence in the thigh, but he didn’t even flinch. Still, fierce pride welled up in Ares.
“Protective of Ares, aren’t we?” Pestilence murmured, and for a split-second, maybe less, Ares could have sworn he glimpsed yearning in his brother’s expression. Then the fucker flicked a fingernail against her cheek, drawing blood, and Ares knew he’d been mistaken, had allowed sentimentality and the brotherly bond to color his thoughts.
Never again. “If you do this, brother, I will find a way to torture you for eternity.”
Pestilence shrugged. “After your Seal breaks, you won’t care. I’ll leave her corpse intact enough that you can get one last fuck out of her before we find Limos and Thanatos. Once we force our blood between their lips, their Seals will break, and we’ll ride together again.”
Helplessness would have brought Ares to his knees if he’d been standing. Plan. He needed a fucking plan. There would be no appealing to Reseph… he was clearly gone. Cara’s terrified gaze caught his, and he did his damnedest to convey a message. Fight him.
Pestilence slammed her against the wall and squeezed her chin roughly. “How talented is that mouth? Ares?”
This was the break they needed. Ares hoped she’d play along. “Very. You’ll not find a more clever tongue.”
Pestilence swiveled his head around, eyes narrowed. “And you’re telling me this, why? You want her to blow me?”
Hell no. Rage fogged his vision as that particular image burned into his brain. Through the growing fear that this might be a contest he wouldn’t win, he forced himself to relax, but he couldn’t clear the gravel out of his voice. “I would battle Satan himself to prevent it,” he admitted, because his brother wouldn’t buy anything less. “But I have no power. You’re going to kill her. My hope is that if she pleases you, you’ll make her death an easy one.”
“I’ll consider it.” He shoved Cara to her knees in front of him. “Take it out. And if you do anything stupid, I’ll cut off Ares’s dick and make you eat it, do you understand?”
She paled, making her bruises and scrapes stand out starkly. Her hands shook as she reached into Pestilence’s pants and removed his cock. The son of a bitch was hard already. Ares broke out in a fevered sweat.
Come on, baby. Use your gift. Rip his fucking balls off.
Her palm circled Pestilence’s shaft and slid down. He cuffed her in the head. “Your mouth, bitch. Use your mouth.”
Ares’s chest cramped, his heart jackhammered, and fuck, he wouldn’t survive this. Cara’s lips parted, and he knew his brother could feel her warm breath on him. The demon in him went crazy. Hold it together…
Cara slid her hands around Pestilence’s muscular thighs and pulled down his pants so the waistband circled his legs. Pestilence watched her, blue eyes glittering with anticipation and lust as she cupped