Her Angel: Eternal Warriors Complete Series Box Set

by Heaton, Felicity

  “You are still drunk.” She kissed the tip of his nose. “If you weren’t drunk, you wouldn’t be so forward about this or so relaxed.”

  “I would not?” He edged his hands down to the small of her back, inching towards her bottom.

  She shook her head. “Nope. Not a chance, Buster. You blew it.”

  “You blew me.” He grinned.

  “Mother Earth! See, this is why I know you’re drunk. You’re vulgar and crass. Like every other male in the world.”

  Asmodeus scowled. “Not like every man.”

  She didn’t agree with him. She walked her fingers across his chest and then pressed her palms against it and pushed. She was getting up. Asmodeus tightened his grip, pinning her against him.

  “Stay.” He held her even when she wriggled and frowned. “Stay, sweet little Liora.”

  “It’s not very comfortable.” A reasonable rejoinder.

  “Then I will take you somewhere more comfortable and we can lie together.”

  She didn’t look as though she was going to go along with that one. “I’m still hungry. Someone got drunk and raucous, and got himself into trouble with his woman, and that woman is still hungry.”

  Asmodeus relented and loosened his grip on her. She wriggled out of his arms, the action brushing her breasts across his chest in the most tormenting way.

  Remus whined and gave him a sympathetic look. Asmodeus spoke to him in the demon tongue, wishing him better fortune when he found a female of his own. They were complicated, temperamental creatures.

  He hauled himself onto his feet, straightened his wings and tore his wrecked shirt off. Liora glanced at him and then her eyes drifted back to him, lingering on his bare chest. Not that complicated at times. His female liked his body and the way she was staring told him that she would reconsider her refusal of his advances if he remained this way for long enough.

  He was feeling like a spoilsport today though.

  He called another item of clothing to him, a shirt he had altered, focusing so it fitted perfectly over his wings. He considered buttoning it but liked the way Liora’s gaze kept zipping to the slice of bare chest and stomach she could see between the two open sides of the black shirt.

  She bit into an apple in a way that left him feeling she wanted to take a bite out of him.

  He moved to the table, sat on it, crossed his legs, and picked up a small black sketchbook he had acquired in the supermarket. He took up a pencil stub and studied Liora as she picked through the food, sketching her in a moment when she tucked her long chestnut hair behind her ear and her lips parted, her gaze cast down at something on the table. Beautiful. His fingers made swift work of capturing her and by the time she had selected her next item of food, he had finished the sketch.

  She looked over at him, frowned and tiptoed, attempting to peer at the drawing. He held it against his chest.

  “Private,” he said and peeked at it, teasing her.

  She sidled closer, rolling another apple along the table beside her, and her dire attempt to look casual and uninterested brought a smile to his lips. She was a terrible actor.

  Liora lunged for the small book with her free hand but he saw the attempt coming before it had even formed as an idea in her head. He beat his wings and shot backwards, far beyond her reach, and landed in the corner of the room.

  He leisurely perused the drawing, going so far as to hold it out before him, comparing it to her.

  She planted her hands on her hips and glared daggers at him.

  “I will let you see it,” he said and she brightened. “If you pay me.”

  “Pay you how?” Her glare turned suspicious but darkened with unmistakable desire at the same time. Wicked girl. He wasn’t asking her to offer that much in return for the drawing.

  “A kiss.” He held it out to her.

  “That all?”

  “Feel free to bargain for a higher price.” He waggled the book. “If you want to pay more, I could be convinced.”

  “A kiss it is.” She crossed the room to him and he held the book above his head, not convinced that she wouldn’t try to steal it and leave him down a kiss.

  She sighed, grabbed the collar of his shirt in both hands, dragged him down and captured his mouth with her own. It was more than a kiss. The way her lips danced against his and her tongue teased, flicking over and swiping at his lower lip, luring him into wanting to taste her in a similar fashion, intoxicated him more than the vodka had. He groaned and closed his eyes and claimed her mouth, kissing her harder and eliciting a moan from her that burned through him, making him forget what they were doing. The only thing that mattered was this kiss.

  He wrapped his arms around her and she was gone, twirled from his embrace, her high giggle ringing around him.

  Asmodeus huffed.

  Tricked.

  “Witch,” he muttered and she mimicked him, waggling the book as she danced back across the room to her food stash.

  She opened the book and her laughter died, her actions ceasing. She stared down at the drawing with a blank expression on her face and his heart beat hard against his chest, uncertainty creeping through his veins and taking hold of him, leaving him with a head full of doubts. Did she not like it?

  She had admired his other drawings and paintings. She had to admire this one too. He had drawn it for her. He had never drawn anything for anyone before, had kept his passion a secret, something private and for his eyes only. Her praise had given him the courage to draw for her, to show what was a rough sketch rather than a finished perfected drawing to her because he thought she might like it.

  He stepped towards her, intent on taking it back and cursing her, and she looked up at him and blinked.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “This is really how you see me?”

  He shook his head. “It is how you are, not how I see you. You are beautiful. I am afraid my skill does not do you justice.”

  She smiled. “Flattery like that might earn you another kiss.”

  Asmodeus rounded the table to her and picked up the apple she had discarded. He rolled it between his palms, careful not to damage it with his strength, and studied her as she alternated between looking over the food and looking at the picture he had drawn. Sometimes she glanced at him too, a blush touching her cheeks. At least she was no longer angry with him.

  And he was no longer drunk.

  Liora opened a different drink and swigged from the bottle between bites of apple, biscuits and other savoury items he had brought her. She offered him a strip of dark chocolate. He had no need to eat right now, didn’t feel hunger as she did, but he wanted to taste the food with her. He stepped up to her and she held the chocolate higher, closer to his mouth. Asmodeus bit the strip in half and savoured the slightly bitter yet sweet taste.

  He sampled the other items she had opened. Something she explained was a fried potato chip that tasted salty, various nuts that all tasted vaguely the same to him, and more biscuits. He decided he liked sweet things. Like Liora.

  He stood behind her, slipped his arms beneath hers and settled them around her waist, holding her with her back pressing against his front. She continued eating, working her way through most of a packet of pale creamy biscuits and finishing her apple and a bottle of water.

  Asmodeus leaned down and rested his chin on her shoulder. She fed him a strawberry and made a click of chastisement when he took her fingers into his mouth with it.

  “You’re still in the doghouse.” She pulled her fingers from his lips and poked his nose. “Besides, I’m full and now I’m tired.”

  He had no idea how mortal bodies worked. It didn’t make sense that she had eaten her fill and now she was more tired than before, when she had been hungry. He also wasn’t sure how long a mortal could live without sleep before their body began to shut down and became useless to them.

  Liora had been awake for what mortals perceived as days, and she had been through much in that short span of time. It had likely taken its t
oll on her and now that he was close to her and was aware of her tiredness, he could sense her weakening.

  “You really don’t sleep?” She tilted her head and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He shook his head. She sighed. “I can’t imagine what it would be like to never sleep… never dream.”

  Asmodeus felt as though he was dreaming now, with her in his arms like this, trusting him to keep her safe. He felt extremely protective of her and it had been one hell of a long few days. He couldn’t imagine what would happen next. Whatever happened, he needed to think before he spoke. He needed to take more care or she would end up smashing the heart he had given to her.

  “Do you have a bedroom?” she whispered and his body ached, growing hard at the thought of laying her down on a sumptuous bed and sending her off into good dreams by worshipping every inch of her.

  “No.” Not anything he could definitely call a bedroom anyway.

  “All these rooms and no bedroom?” She sounded as if she was teasing him again now.

  “I can make one for you, but it will take me time. I will need to return to the mortal realm and acquire necessary items.” He didn’t mind the challenge of hunting for a good bed and comfortable mattress for his Liora, but he didn’t want to leave her when she was tired and vulnerable, weak from fatigue.

  What else could he do though? She needed to rest and he had no comfortable bed to offer her.

  “How comfy is your throne?” She looked towards it where it lay toppled on the black stone floor.

  “Moderately.”

  She yawned. “Could you sit in it for a few hours?”

  He arched an eyebrow, unsure where she was going with her questions. Was she meaning to sleep in his throne? It was not that comfortable. She was petite and soft, unaccustomed to the firm seat.

  “Possibly.” He had sat in it for hours before with no negative effect on him.

  “Good.” Liora twisted out of his arms, took hold of his hand and led him to the throne. He righted it for her so she could sit on it. She moved around in front of him and pushed him backwards, towards the seat. “Sit.”

  Asmodeus obeyed, settling himself in the chair, ensuring his wings were comfortable.

  Liora surprised him by sitting down on his thighs and curling up against him, pulling her knees close to her chest.

  He liked this.

  He wrapped his arms around her and then his wings, tucking her in and ensuring she would be warm and would feel safe enough to sleep. He would watch over her. The fire crackled in the grate. Remus shifted restlessly and poked one paw in Romulus’s right eye. Romulus growled sleepily.

  Liora was sound asleep.

  Asmodeus watched her, studying her face as she slumbered. She was beautiful in sleep, her features soft and dainty and her long chestnut hair curling around her black silk robe covered shoulders. He couldn’t believe how much she trusted him, giving him the honour of protecting her when she was at her most vulnerable.

  He had never protected anyone before Liora had come into his life, turning his world upside down, shaking his carefully constructed image to reveal the side of himself he had always hidden because he had believed it made him weak and would make others turn on him.

  It had drawn Liora to him.

  A familiar tug yanked his chest and Asmodeus held Liora closer to him. Her head settled against his chest, her warm breath skating over his skin. He refused to heed his master’s command. The Devil had never been able to break his will as he could with his Hell’s angels, easily forcing them to do something against their desire.

  He looked down at his sleeping beauty, focusing everything on her, shutting out the Devil.

  She couldn’t be very comfortable in his arms, in his home, in his realm of demons.

  Demons like the ones who had killed her parents.

  The sliver of good in him said to take her back to her cousin, where she could be with what remained of her family and sleep in a soft warm bed. He crushed it. She wasn’t safe in the mortal world. Serenity and Apollyon weren’t strong enough to protect her there, where Hell’s angels could easily reach them.

  Asmodeus drew her even closer, closed his eyes and pressed a long kiss to her brow, breathing in her subtle yet sweet fragrance.

  With her like this, he didn’t feel that the good in him was a weakness. He felt that the emotions he harboured that were born of that side of him, the way he felt about this willowy, challenging and beautiful female, made him strong and gave him the strength to do whatever it took to protect her.

  He would never let the Devil have her.

  Because she was his.

  CHAPTER 14

  Asmodeus wasn’t sure how long a male resided in the doghouse before their female decided to let them out to play again.

  Liora had been her normal teasing and amusing self around him for the past two mortal days in his castle. They had finished all of the food he had acquired for her on the first day and she had given him a list of other foods that she liked and had sent him on a mission. He had inquired whether she had wanted to come with him, a small part of him fearing she would want to and would then prefer to remain in the mortal realm where she truly belonged. Liora had kissed him and had told him that she had no intention of leaving his castle for the time being because she was enjoying being alone with him.

  He had taken that as a good omen, one that said if he returned from his mission with the bounty she desired, they could perhaps spend a few hours being intimate.

  He had returned with everything she wanted, and she had kissed him as a reward, but nothing more. When he had tried to take things further, she had poked him in the chest and told him he had to do better than that to get out of the doghouse with her.

  Asmodeus had upped his game then, leaving her while she played with Romulus and Remus, and returning to the mortal world to hunt for a bed. She had caught him constructing it in one of the larger rooms that had a balcony overlooking the courtyard of his castle and her smile had been brilliant.

  That night, when she had grown tired, she had asked him to come and sleep with her in the bed. He had held her close to him, her head resting on his chest and warm body pressing against his side. Neither of them had been nude but it had been wonderful. He hadn’t bothered trying to sleep. He had spent hours focused on Liora and thinking over everything, wrestling with himself.

  Whenever she slept, he slipped and his darker emotions gained ground again, driving out the good. His fears easily took hold of him in those long hours, filling his head with doubts about what would happen if he fought the Devil again and what was in store for them. With each minute that passed, he grew more restless, his fears increasing their grasp, tightening icy claws around his heart. The threat of the Devil hung over his head, invisible but oppressing, marring his time with Liora.

  She sat on the long black stone table, dressed in her crimson top and black jeans, thumbing through a magic book. She had explained that contact with them boosted her power even if she couldn’t understand the words on the pages. He had helped her translate a few spells written in dead languages, gaining more kisses as his reward.

  Asmodeus shifted his wings behind him, so they cleared the arms of his throne and lay more comfortably, and crossed his black jeans-clad legs. The dark stone seat was cool against his bare back and arms. He petted Remus, stroking him between his ears, and studied Liora in silence.

  She flicked a page, bit into another strawberry, and then wrinkled her nose. She reached over, picked up a dark plastic bottle, flipped open the cap and squeezed the equally dark rich syrupy contents onto another strawberry.

  Liora paused and looked at him with wide eyes, her eyebrows high on her forehead.

  “Want some?” She offered the strawberry coated with the dark sauce.

  “What is it?” Asmodeus stood, furled his black wings against his back, and crossed the room to her. Remus stuck close to his heels.

  Romulus was already beside Liora, resting his head on the table, his ears back and ey
es constantly following the food she held. A pool of drool covered the table surface around his jaw. Both of the hellhounds had discovered a love of mortal food and had taken to sampling it all with him and Liora, but then Liora had told him that chocolate was poisonous to canines.

  Asmodeus had immediately removed it from the list of food they were allowed, gaining him angry red glares from the twins.

  “Chocolate sauce and strawberry. Very decadent.” She waggled it and some of the sauce ran down her finger.

  “Very wicked?” he asked and a blush coloured her cheeks.

  She nodded, her pupils dilating.

  Asmodeus stopped before her and opened his mouth, accustomed to her habit of feeding him now. She seemed to enjoy it.

  She placed the strawberry in his mouth and he sucked her fingers in with it, swirling his tongue around to capture every molecule of chocolate sauce.

  Her hazel gaze darkened, locked on his lips. She pulled her fingers free, her eyes lingering, burning into him. Her breathing accelerated, driving his to do the same, anticipation making his pulse rise until his heart slammed hard against his chest.

  Liora’s lips parted.

  Asmodeus swooped on them.

  She met him halfway, grabbing him around the back of his neck and dragging him down to her. She pulled him off balance and he crashed into her, knocking her backwards onto the table. Her legs were around his waist in an instant, her feet locking them together behind his backside, and she pulled him on top of her.

  Asmodeus growled and kissed her harder, slanting his head and taking her with his tongue. She moaned and arched beneath him, pressing her breasts against his chest. He snarled and swept his hand across the table, shoving all of the books onto the floor and clearing some room.

  Liora wriggled backwards and he mounted the table, kneeling between her thighs, his groin pressing against the heat of hers.

  He moaned and kissed her again, tasting strawberry and chocolate. Decadent. Wicked.

  Romulus and Remus whined and trotted out of the room.

  Liora moved beneath him, undulating her hips in a maddening way that had him as hard as steel and straining to be inside her. Her delicious heat stroked him through his own jeans. He needed her closer. Needed to feel her skin-to-skin, feel her rocking her wet core against him.