Dirty Angel (Sainted Sinners #1)

by Vivian Wood

  Rhys shifted and lowered his mouth to her breast, building the anticipation for both of them as he explored the valley between her breasts with his lips. Echo squirmed, and Rhys caught a hint of her excitement despite her remaining clothing.

  Unable to wait another moment, Rhys closed his lips over her nipple, tonguing it slowly. Echo’s throaty cry of pleasure nearly killed him. Rhys didn’t stop for a second, tormenting both her breasts with his lips, tongue, and teeth until she begged him for more.

  “Rhys, please…” Echo said, her fingers clutching at his t-shirt.

  “Please, what?” he asked, releasing her nipple.

  Echo pulled back a few inches and practically ripped his shirt off, which made him grin. His smile only grew wider when he saw her blatant admiration of his body. She bit her lip and explored his shoulders, chest, and stomach with gentle touches.

  When her fingers trailed down his abs toward the waistband of his jeans, his body clenched involuntarily, muscles flexing. Echo licked her lips again, and Rhys lost his patience.

  “Lick your lips again while you’re staring at my cock,” Rhys challenged. “I dare you, lass.”

  Echo’s gaze jumped up to his and she went completely red.

  “I—” she started, but Rhys had no patience for it now. He got to his feet and swept Echo up in his arms, carrying her through the living room and into his bedroom.

  Tossing Echo to his bed, he unzipped his jeans but left them on. He’d never quite got the hang of underwear, finding them too restrictive, and he didn’t think Echo was ready for the full show just yet.

  Her jeans, on the other hand, were unzipped and removed immediately. True to his fantasy, she wore a tiny scrap of pink gossamer underneath. Rhys rubbed his hand over his abs and groaned to himself, trying to emblazon the image in his memory.

  “Turn over,” he said, twirling his finger in the air. “I think I need to see the whole thing.”

  Echo’s brows shot up, her chest rising and falling a couple of times. After a moment, she rolled over onto her stomach, instantly giving Rhys a lifetime’s worth of fantasy material.

  Her rear was broadly formed, her legs long and lush, and a tiny strip of pink silk peeked out from between the twin globes of her ass.

  “Fuck, woman. You’re killing me,” Rhys said.

  He knelt on the bed, trapping her legs between his knees. Running his hands up the backs of her inner thighs, he noticed that she trembled under his attentions. He cupped and squeezed her buttocks, spreading them a little to admire her lingerie once more.

  He plucked at the band of her panties where they nestled near the top of her buttocks.

  “I’m going to take these off,” he told Echo.

  She turned her head for a moment to glance at him, then nodded. She’d gone quiet at his display of dominance, but the fevered longing in her eyes was crystal clear. As was the dampness of her panties as Rhys peeled them from her body.

  Finally Echo was naked before him, spread out on his bed, ready for his touch. Rhys leaned down and kissed her upper back, then the side of her buttock, suppressing a little smile when she tensed, unsure of his intentions.

  He moved back for a moment, releasing her legs.

  “Roll over, lass. I want to see your face,” he told her.

  Echo rolled over, watching him closely. Rhys guided her to move as he wished, raising her knees off the bed. He nudged her knees apart, giving a little smirk when she resisted, looking abashed.

  “Rhys…” she said, looking uncomfortable for the first time since he’d met her.

  “I want to see you, Echo. All of you,” Rhys said. “I want to make you feel very, very good.”

  Echo’s mouth pressed into a firm line, but she let him spread her knees wide, her thighs parting to reveal her glistening pink sex. Rhys admired her for several long moments before stretching out beside her. He lay on his side, facing Echo, and hooked her knee over his hip to give himself full access to her body.

  “You are exquisite,” Rhys murmured to Echo. “I hope you know that.”

  He trailed his fingertips from her navel to her hip, down to her knee, then traced a line back up her inner thigh. She tensed a little, but Rhys took his time, building up the moment, teasing her dark blonde curls, running touch his over her mons in light strokes.

  The air filled with her scent, an intoxicating musk that had Rhys’s bear clawing wildly for escape. He ignored the filthy images streaming through his mind, images of him filling and fucking his mate in every imaginable position, and focused on coaxing her release first.

  Rhys traced her outer lips with two fingertips, watching Echo’s hunger build, noticing when a fine sheen of perspiration broke out over her skin. He longed to have her stroke him in the same manner, but when her searching fingers found his waistband, he gently pushed her hand away.

  Echo shot him a look of utter frustration, but Rhys only smiled and ran a single fingertip up and down her slick slit, keeping the pressure too light for any real stimulation.

  When Echo’s body began to dampen the sheets below, when she was breathing hard and groaning with frustration, only then did Rhys find and circle her clit with his thumb.

  “Ah!” Echo cried, her hips jerking up to meet his touch.

  “Easy,” Rhys chided, moving her leg and shifting to kneel between her legs.

  He hadn’t done this before, but he’d watched plenty of modern pornography. He hadn’t understood the desire until about five minutes ago, but he suddenly needed to taste his mate… intimately.

  Echo shot him a look that was somewhere between wild desire and utter fear, and Rhys was shocked to realize that this might actually be an important moment between them. Echo had surrendered control to him, and in exchange, he must fulfill his promise to bring her to climax.

  To his surprise, exploring Echo with his mouth came naturally. He buried his face in the juncture of her thigh, inhaling a deep dose of her scent, dropping teasing kisses on her sensitive skin.

  When he spread her lips wide with two fingers, she was already soaked for him. He exposed the small bud at the very top of her sex, tracing the delicate folds with the tip of his tongue. Echo nearly shot off the bed, her back arching as she cried out. One of her hands cradled the side of Rhys’s head, the other clutched the sheets.

  Rhys let his eyes close as he swirled his tongue around her most tender flesh. He kept his pace slow, his touch soft. He knew precisely how he wanted her to finish, and he didn’t want to rush to get there.

  As he tongued her clit, he slowly pressed one thick finger into her core. Her body was slick with need, accepting first one and then two fingers with ease, her muscles fluttering and gripping him in a way that made his cock throb with need.

  When he finally had his mate, she would be incredible; in all likelihood, she would unman him in moments unless he kept himself tightly controlled.

  Rhys had never tasted a woman like this before, but pleasing one with his hands was nothing new to him. As he kissed and lapped at her clit, he rotated his hand just so, fingertips curling up toward her navel, seeking…

  “AH!” Echo cried, writhing against his hand. “Rhys, yes! Oh, oh…”

  Rhys closed his lips over her clit and sucked gently, tapping an insistent tattoo with his fingertips, working his fingers in and out of her tightness. Echo lasted less than a minute more before she exploded, a sob escaping her lips as her body tensed and gushed against Rhys’s mouth and fingers. Her release went on and on, and Rhys helped her ride and crest the wave, drawing out her pleasure until she finally dragged him away.

  Echo wrapped herself around Rhys and kissed him deeply, taking control for the moment, and Rhys didn’t mind. The sensation of kissing her with her musk clinging to his lips and tongue was erotic, and the feel of a sated mate in his arms was unbeatable.

  When Echo’s kiss turned heated once more, her hand crawling down his stomach, he trapped her seeking fingers and brought them up to his lips for a kiss.

 
“Tomorrow,” he said, not wanting to spoil the moment. Tonight had been about Echo, about showing her what he could offer as her mate, showing her why she would return to his bed night after night. Why she would gladly refuse all others, just as Rhys would do.

  Unfortunately, Echo didn’t seem pleased with his answer. Her disappointment was evident.

  “You think I’ll hurt you,” she said, looking hurt.

  “What?” Rhys asked.

  “You think I’ll do what I did to that… that creature at Tee-Elle’s house.” She wiggled her fingers to indicate vanishing, and Rhys puzzled over that for a moment.

  “The succubus,” he said at last.

  “Yeah. You think… I mean, I can’t control my powers very well,” Echo said.

  “Lass, I don’t think that,” Rhys reached for her, but Echo drew away.

  Clambering off the bed, she retrieved her panties, shooting him a last glance before fleeing the room. Rhys laid back on his bed with a loud huff, wondering how Echo had gone from pleasure to anger so quickly.

  Where had he gone so wrong?

  11

  Chapter Eleven

  Echo

  Echo sighed as she tugged on an olive sundress she’d discovered in her seemingly bottomless wardrobe, wondering whose job it was to select and purchase her clothing. Somehow she couldn’t imagine Duverjay picking out dressed and panties and strappy sandals, perhaps because she’d only ever seen him in formal attire.

  “No, Echo, you can’t help find your aunt,” she said, butchering Rhys’s accent with her mimicry. “Just let us do our job, Echo. Stay in the house, Echo.”

  Echo sized herself up in the mirror, biting her lip. The dress clung to her body in all the right places, the neckline cut a little low to show off Echo’s cleavage. She’d picked out a pair of low wedge heels and pinned her hair up with a flower.

  All part of her scheme to torment Rhys, who was being awkward as hell around her and demanding that she take no part in rescuing her own kidnapped family member.

  “No way, buster,” Echo muttered, though Rhys wasn’t around to hear her. “You don’t get to stay away from me and still be all possessive. One or the other.”

  To be fair, most of the awkwardness was Echo’s doing. She was researching her abilities, trying to figure out how to keep herself from turning Rhys into a piece of werebear toast if and when she ever got close to hooking up with him again.

  And oh, did she ever want that. The lure of Rhys was stronger than ever, seemingly growing by the moment. It was partially her curiosity, partially the magical cosmic chemistry between them… and maybe just a teeny, tiny part pure lust on Echo’s account.

  But none of that meant that she should risk his well-being, of course.

  Echo sighed and headed downstairs, but this time she sought not Rhys but Aeric. Since she’d had a decent amount of free time while Rhys made himself scarce, Echo had come up with a good plan to find Tee-Elle, a plan that she was fairly certain would actually work.

  The problem was that she needed a scrying mirror to find Tee-Elle, and someone to watch her back. She was still uncertain of her magical abilities. She didn’t want to make some tiny mistake that might have catastrophic repercussions, so she needed someone more experienced to stay with her while she used the mirror.

  After a bit of consideration, she’d chosen Aeric. Of the three Guardians, Aeric seemed the most likely to help Echo without feeling the need to tell Rhys every little thing. Gabriel and Rhys were too chummy, but Aeric didn’t seem like anyone’s buddy.

  Echo found Aeric alone in the living area on the first floor, sitting at the big conference table. He was studying a massive book bound in cracked brown leather, lips moving silently as he read. She watched him from a distance, realizing that his perpetual expression of anger masked just how handsome he was.

  His ash blond hair was immaculately groomed, just long enough to look amazing parted on one side and brushed back from his face. He was just as tall as Rhys and even more solidly built, his torso resembling nothing so much as a tree trunk.

  Echo grabbed a bottle of water out of the kitchen fridge and then sauntered over to him, trying to appear casual.

  Her nervousness ruined any attempt at being suave when she dropped the unopened bottle of water on the table. It bounced and landed right on the book, making Aeric scowl and swat the bottle away.

  “What are you doing?” he growled. “This book is over six hundred years old.”

  Echo’s lips parted in surprise, but she didn’t quite know how to respond to that. In the face of Aeric’s relentlessly sullen attitude, her momentary attraction to him withered.

  “Sorry,” she said, snatching her water bottle from the table. “It was an accident.”

  When she sat down at the table across from him, Aeric arched a brow.

  You have a lot of nerve, sitting by me, he seemed to say.

  Echo struggled to keep from rolling her eyes. Maybe every time Rhys frustrated her, she should just think of what it would be like to be paired with Aeric for the rest of her days. That ought to make her appreciate the big, bossy man who’d taken over her life.

  “I need to talk to you,” Echo said, ignoring Aeric’s continued glare. “I can’t just stay here in the Manor forever, no matter what Rhys thinks. I have a job and a life that I want to get back to.”

  Well, at least the job part was true, Echo mused. The social life part… not so much.

  “Why are you telling me this?” Aeric asked, shutting his book with a snap. The gold lettering on the front caught Echo’s eye; most of it was incomprehensible, German maybe, but the word Magick was clear enough.

  “Because I can’t leave here until this Pere Mal thing is resolved. The only person outside Pere Mal’s inner circle that can give us information about what he’s up to is Tee-Elle, and he’s got her hostage. Ergo,” Echo explained, “I need to find Tee-Elle. She’s been gone for almost a week, and y’all haven’t found her yet. It’s time to try something different.”

  Aeric stared at her for a few moments before responding.

  “And you think you can find her?” he asked, taking the bait. Echo nearly squealed with excitement, but she held it in.

  “I have an idea, at least,” she said, letting her unspoken criticism of the Guardians’ scrying abilities hang in the air. “But I also have a condition.”

  Aeric snorted and crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat.

  “You need my help and you have a condition. Wonderful.”

  Echo blushed, but she refused to let Aeric’s grumpiness cow her. She leaned her elbows on the table and gave him a hard glare.

  “Your job is to protect the city,” she reasoned. “Pere Mal is a huge threat to the whole world, much less New Orleans. I would be helping you as much as you would be helping me.”

  Echo could’ve sworn she saw Aeric’s lips twitch, humor lighting his eyes. She had the distinct impression that he was currently pitying Rhys for getting stuck with someone who Aeric so clearly found to be annoying.

  “What is your condition, then?” he asked.

  “I don’t want you to tell Rhys. If this works, I want to go with you to find Tee-Elle, and I think we both know that Rhys would have a problem with that.”

  Aeric gave a disbelieving cough.

  “I’m certain he would.”

  “So?” Echo asked.

  Aeric studied her for a long moment, then shook his head. Echo thought he would refuse her, but he took her by surprise.

  “Let’s hear your idea, then,” Aeric said, pushing the book aside.

  “I’ll need the scrying mirror,” Echo said, biting her lip for a second before adding, “And somewhere private to use it.”

  Aeric narrowed his gaze before giving Echo a stiff nod.

  “Meet me on the second floor in twenty minutes,” he said. He scooped up the book and went out the back door, heading for the gym.

  When he didn’t reappear, Echo went to Rhys’s guest room and exchanged h
er wedge heels for flats. She fidgeted and flipped through a magazine for a few minutes, distracting herself until it was time to go upstairs. Before she left the guest room, she found her purse and pulled out her Swiss army knife, taking it with her.

  When she slipped down the central staircase to the first floor, she saw that Aeric had left the first door wide open. She snuck over to it and hurried inside, halting only a few feet in, mouth hanging open.

  Though Aeric’s living area had precisely the same layout as Rhys’s, the two rooms could not have looked more different. For one thing, Aeric’s living space was lined floor to ceiling with book cases crammed with books of every shape and size, covering every inch except the picture window on the far size of the room.

  For another thing, the walls and bookcases were all black, the floor was covered in black rugs. A few pieces of minimalist furniture were clustered near the window, and though Aeric had a library table identical to Rhys’s, it had been painted black. Hell, the ceiling dark, with black fabric hanging low to make the whole room seem much smaller and darker.

  The strangest part was that the lovely window was draped with blackout curtains to kill the daylight, meaning that the only light in the room came from a couple of dim lamps perched atop the library table.

  “Are you just going to stand there?” Aeric asked, giving her a bored look.

  “N… no…” Echo said, wrapping her arms around herself as she walked over to the table.

  Aeric had laid out an ornate scrying mirror on the table, a pad of paper and a pen next to it in case Echo should need to make notes.

  Echo held up her Swiss army knife, and Aeric arched a questioning brow.

  “I’m going to scry with blood,” Echo said. “I read about it yesterday, how people who are deeply connected can be sought through one another’s blood.”

  Aeric pursed his lips, then gave Echo a slow nod.

  “It can be done, if the bond goes deep enough. Usually it must be family,” he said.

  “It will work,” Echo said, her stern tone intended to bolster her own wavering faith in her plan.