by Larissa Ione
She was mate material, pure and simple. The fantasies that had kept him sane during the torture came back to him in stark detail, and the rage that had been building inside him was replaced by a primal urge to mate. To make her his.
“An angel who cooks.” His voice was rough with the effort he was expending to not jump on her. “Who knew you had it in you?”
She moved away from him to turn off the TV, which was blaring news about the neverending trouble in the Middle East. “I’ve never really cooked for anyone but myself, but I think I do okay.”
That was the understatement of the century, and the bread turned to lead in his gut. She was so perfect, so decent, and so wrong for him, and while it was nice to fantasize about having her, these little slices of a white-picket-fence life were temporary.
“Hey,” Idess’s voice was a soft prompt from the living room. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Yes.” He swore. “I mean, no. You didn’t do anything wrong.” You did everything right, damn you. “Cookie, we have a huge new problem.” Food forgotten, bodily urges temporarily overridden, he turned to her. She stood there, hands clasped in front of her, watching him with concern. He wished she’d stop doing that, because he didn’t want it, didn’t deserve it.
“What now?” She’d changed clothes at some point while he was gone, was now wearing a pair of khaki BDU pants, combat boots, and a black, button-down blouse tied just below her breasts, revealing that flat belly he wanted to kiss every time he saw it.
She looked sweet and sexy and once again, he threw wood like a teenager who’d just picked up his first nudie mag.
He casually adjusted his erection and got back on track. “Shade’s mate was attacked, and one of his sons kidnapped. Rade’s being held as ransom for Kynan.”
Every drop of color drained from her face. “Shade’s mate? Where?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
She hooked her thumbs in her pockets and looked down at the floor. “First… do you know who attacked her and took the child?”
“Sin saw Rade with some demon named Rariel.”
Frowning, Idess looked up again. “Rariel?”
Hope sparked. “Do you know him?”
“No… but that sounds like an angel name. He might be fallen.”
It was Lore’s turn to frown. “If he’s a fallen angel, why wouldn’t he go after Kynan himself?”
“I don’t know,” Idess said, “but the reason I asked about Shade is that I may have another piece of the puzzle. Your brother, Roag, haunts the hospital.”
Lore froze. “How do you know?”
“I’ve seen him. Angels are capable of seeing those who exist in dimensions your limited eyesight can’t pick up. I helped him out of the hospital,” she said thickly. “I didn’t know who he was, and apparently, I took him to Shade’s old apartment. I searched for him after Eidolon told me, but…” She shook her head. “What if he had something to do with the attack?”
Shock made Lore’s mind sluggish as it played back the last few days from the beginning. The Rariel guy had been hanging with Deth… and he had Rade, wanting to trade for Ky. But if he was a fallen angel, why would he set up Lore to take the fall? Wait…
“Angel.”
“Yes?”
“Not you.” Lore smiled a little at that, but sobered quickly. “Bear with me, here. I met Rariel when Roag hired me. They know each other. If Rariel is a fallen angel—”
“He could see Roag like I can,” she breathed.
“Exactly. What if they’re working together so Roag can get his revenge on our brothers? Rariel could have contracted me to kill Kynan as well as set me up as Rade’s kidnapper. Roag gets what he wants, and Rariel gets Kynan’s special necklace.” He frowned. “What’s with that, anyway?”
“Necklace? I don’t know.” She was lying, and she changed the subject before he could call her on it. “But why would Rariel also hire Sin to kill my other Primori?”
Yeah, that was still a missing piece of puzzle, but right now, his primary concern was getting Rade back.
“Sin’s trying to get a bead on Rariel. She’ll be here in an hour. But if he hurts that child…” It would be Lore’s fault. Idess squeezed his hand, and fire shot up his arm. He hissed and backed away so fast he bumped into the wall. “Don’t!”
She followed him, worry putting delicate lines in her forehead. “Lore? Hey, are you okay?”
“No,” he ground out. “I’m not okay.”
Something dark and primal vibrated through Lore, as though all of the lust that had built up over the last couple of days was tired of waiting. It wanted out. And it wanted Idess.
She reached for him. “I want to help you—”
He moved without thinking, his body heading down the backstretch before his brain even got out of the gate, and the next thing he knew, he was on her, sandwiching her between the wall and his body. He gripped her hip with his bare hand and the nape of her neck with his gloved one as he dipped his head so his lips brushed her ear.
“Help me? You know what would help me? Stripping you naked so I can dive between your legs and lick you until you scream.”
“Oh, Lore.” She brought her hands up to his waist and whispered against his cheek, “I wouldn’t fight you.”
It was totally the wrong thing to say. A groan rattled in his chest as he ground his erection against her. “You need to fight me, angel. Because I wouldn’t stop there.” He inhaled deeply, taking in her naturally spicy scent that was now mingled with an even more savory scent of arousal. “Before you caught your breath, I’d be inside you, fucking you until I filled you with so much of me that you’d feel me for weeks.”
Her whimper of need put a crack in his restraint. Some deep, elemental urge came over him, and he sank his teeth into the gentle curve between her shoulder and neck to hold her as he thrust against her, wishing they were skin on skin. Idess cried out, but she arched into him to meet each roll of his hips.
“Lore…” Her breasts rubbed against his chest and her fingers bit into his waist and he was going to tear off her clothes with his teeth.
Mindless with need, he skimmed his gloved hand up her rib cage. Her heat practically melted the leather, and then he found her breasts, and… and dammit, he couldn’t do this.
With a roar, he tore away from her. His cock throbbed and his balls ached, and in his veins, lava flowed instead of blood. She reached for him, and he rounded on her with a demonic growl. “Touch me, and the last of my control will shatter, Idess. I will have you. And angel or not, you won’t survive it.”
Inside, the demon half of him howled with pain and grief. It wanted Idess like it had never wanted anyone else. It demanded her. The human half screamed at him to run.
The part of him that was wholly male wanted to mark her as his and never let her go. The thought made him break out in an icy sweat, because if he didn’t get away from her, the only thing he’d be marking would be her grave.
Twenty
Every cell in Idess’s body was on fire. It was as if they were rubbing together, the friction creating maddening heat that nearly had her flashing home just so she could take a cold shower. Which was what she was pretty sure Lore was doing.
Either that, or he was…
The images of what he might be doing assaulted her brain and added to the inferno burning in her body. She saw him stroking himself the way he had when she’d been chained to her bed, and she went utterly wet between her legs.
Before you caught your breath, I’d be inside you, fucking you until I filled you with so much of me that you’d feel me for weeks.
More images. More heat. More liquid arousal.
She couldn’t have intercourse, but she could join him in the shower. Right now. Replace his hand with hers. His hand with her mouth. And he’d let her. He’d been on the brink, but his fear of what might happen if she touched his dermoire had driven him back. But she knew his touch wouldn’t kill her. Few demons could. Fallen angels, though
… that was another story.
The thud of something hitting the living room window yanked her out of her thoughts. When she peeked outside, her heart stuttered. A mourning dove lay on the deck, his little wings fluttering and legs kicking.
“Hey, little one,” she murmured, as she gently scooped it into her hands. Blood bubbled from one nostril, and its beak opened and closed on silent gasps. Its aura wasn’t gray yet—she still had time.
Closing her eyes, Idess summoned her mother’s powers, tapping deep into her well of healing and life. Power filled her, and though she didn’t open her eyes, she knew her body was glowing with a vibrant, white light. In her hand, the bird trembled.
So did she. She had no way of knowing if she’d be healing the bird or killing it, but either way, its pain would end.
She opened her eyes. The blood was gone from the bird’s beak, and it cocked its head to look at her with what she swore was gratitude. And then it flew away, disappearing into the canopy of trees.
“That was amazing.” Lore’s voice was impossibly deep, raw, and right behind her.
Startled, Idess whirled around. He stood just outside the doorway, the towel slung low around his hips doing nothing to hide the enormous erection beneath. His ripped fighter’s body gleamed in the sunlight, and water dripped off the hard planes of his face and streamed over the slabs of chest muscle, leaving glistening tracks on his tanned skin. She had the strangest urge to lap up every drop, working her way up from his toes.
“It was nothing,” she said, hoping he didn’t notice how winded she sounded.
“It wasn’t nothing to that bird.” He shifted his weight, and the towel slipped a fraction of an inch lower. Another centimeter and he could probably be arrested in this state for indecent exposure. Or decent exposure. “Can all Memitim do that?”
She jerked her gaze up to his, and she nearly bit her tongue at the desperation haunting his eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t done what she’d thought he’d done in the shower. “Lore? Are you okay?”
“Answer!” he barked. His hands flexed at his sides, and his dermoire writhed angrily.
She should be furious at his command, but she suspected that at this point, his control over his behavior was tentative, at best. “It depends on what kind of angel our mother is. My mother is vivificus, a restorer of life.”
He ran a trembling hand through his wet hair, leaving deep grooves. “I want to know more. But…”
She took a step toward him, but a warning growl froze her in place. “You’re on edge.”
Strikes of gold lightning splashed down in the black pools of his eyes. “I’m being set up so my brothers will slaughter me, I have to kill Kynan or my sister will die, but if I do kill him, you lose your wings, some evil asshole is doing God knows what to my nephew, and I’m in agony and on the verge of rage because of you. So yeah, I’m a little on edge.”
Agony? Rage? “Because of me?”
His chest heaved with the force of his panting breaths—the kind of breaths one took when one was trying to control pain or anger. He’d done the same before, while in the throes of rage, and even now, glints of red joined the gold in his eyes.
“Why—” she licked her suddenly dry lips, and his laser gaze fixed on them “—why aren’t you taking care of yourself?”
“I… can’t.” His cheeks flushed, as though he were ashamed. “I need you.”
“I don’t understand. You said—”
“You did something to me.” He stalked closer, and it became a struggle to breathe, not because she was afraid, but because alongside the fury in his gaze, there was a smoky possessiveness that was aimed directly at her. “You made me need you. Crave you.” He reached out with his right hand. At the last second, he snatched it back, and cursing nastily, he stumbled backward.
“Lore!” She caught his left wrist. His entire body jerked. “You won’t hurt me. Just let me touch it—”
“What?” He leaped backward so fast he hit the side of the house. “Stay away from me!”
“And then what?” she shouted. “You rage out because you’re too stubborn to let me touch you?”
“I’ll kill you!” he roared back. “Don’t you get it? I will put you in the fucking ground, and I can’t live with that!”
She threw up her arms in frustration. “Then what do you want from me? You want me to get on my knees and blow you while you do a repeat of the incident with the prostitute whose name you didn’t even know? Is that what you want?” God help her, she’d do it, wanted to put her mouth on him and taste his passion, but not until he got an earful. “Because I can invest in a quality set of knee pads. We’ll probably be doing that for years, since I’m your Memitim and I have to keep you alive, so let’s get to it, okay?” She patted the side of the house, her palm making a sound as hollow as his voice against the wood. “How do you want it? Hands here? Yeah, that’ll work.”
“Please… I’m sorry.” A sound of anguish bubbled up from deep in his chest. His entire body was trembling, and his clenched teeth were bared. His panting breaths hissed through them, and she had a feeling he was beyond being able to speak anymore. But then, somehow, he managed a raspy, “Chain… me.”
Her heart bled. She didn’t understand why or how his condition had changed so he couldn’t take care of his needs himself, but he didn’t understand it, either, and he was the one who was suffering. She was only making it worse.
“I’ll chain you,” she lied. “Just stay there, okay?” Casually, she moved to his left, so as not to spook him… and then she flashed to the other side and grabbed his arm, right over the odd swirl on his wrist that looked like a twisted sundial.
“No!” Lore threw himself away from her, but she held on, nearly getting her shoulder dislocated. He bucked and spun like a rodeo bull.
“Lore!” Her teeth clanged together so hard her skull vibrated. “Stop!”
The fact that she was touching him and not dead sank in, and he froze as suddenly as he’d exploded into action.
“See?” She could barely hear her voice through the ringing in her ears. “Nothing happened.” Except that something was happening. A strange energy buzzed beneath her palm. It focused and moved up her arm, tracing lines from her fingers to her shoulder, and she drew a sharp breath when she realized that the energy was settling into her skin in the same pattern as his dermoire.
Seductive power filled her entire body, a heady, sexual force that sent tingles into all her erogenous zones. It was as though every inch of skin was an erogenous zone, and she wanted to rub on Lore like a big, purring cat.
“Idess,” he croaked.
She melted against him, needing to feel his body on hers. His arm came around her, and oh, it felt good to be held like that. “I told you it wouldn’t kill me.”
His voice scraped gravel. “It did something to you.”
“Mmm. I can feel your dermoire on my skin. Like it’s mine.”
He studied her arm, but there was nothing there. “When I was chained, you touched my arm. Did it feel like this?”
“Sort of.” She nuzzled his chest, loving how his smooth skin felt against her cheek. “But a lot milder.”
“Because of the Bracken Cuffs.” His voice was low and rough, but much less so than before.
“You’re affected, too.”
“Your touch took the edge off, but…”
He pulled back just enough to reveal that the towel had fallen off at some point, and his thick, full erection was still demanding attention. The earthy male scent she associated with him swirled in the air, and with every breath, her body reacted and primed. Her nipples grew tight, her sex hot and wet, her breasts swollen and sensitive.
“Touch me,” she whispered. “No holding back anymore.”
He hesitated until she took his right hand and centered it on her chest. For a long, desperate moment, he did nothing. And then, in a very tentative motion, he cupped her cheek, the pressure so feather-light she barely felt it. His fingers, the same ones that
were capable of killing, were gentle as he stroked her skin, and his gaze was soft, full of wonder.
“I’ve never—” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “I’ve never felt a woman like this.”
“I’ve never been touched like this.” It was an admission she shouldn’t have made, one that left her vulnerable, but right now she couldn’t care.
Once she was sure he wouldn’t bolt, she covered his hand with hers and guided it down her throat, over her collarbone, and to her breast.
When the heel of his palm skimmed her nipple, they both groaned.
Through her shirt, he rolled the sensitive bud between two fingers, once, twice. His heated gaze snapped up to capture hers, and that fast, the smolder was over and the flames burst out of control. In a mighty surge, he ripped off her shirt and backed her up against the side of the house, his erection prodding the bare skin of her belly.
He nuzzled her throat, nipping and kissing. “Now,” he said against her skin. “I’m going to have you now.”
“Yes,” she gasped. “No. Not all the way.”
Stiffening, he pulled back, and the sorrow in his eyes nearly brought tears to hers. “I scare you. I’m so sorry, angel.”
She pressed two fingers to his lips. “It’s not that. I’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”
His eyebrows shot up, and then a very naughty smile turned up his mouth. “I’m dying to be inside you,” he said, “but we can make do with our hands.” He licked a hot path along the length of her jugular. “And our tongues.”
Lore couldn’t freaking believe this. He was touching Idess in a way he’d never touched any female. Even better, when she’d put her hand on him, she’d somehow drained some of the raging need out of him. Oh, he still needed her, but the rage had been diluted, allowing him a measure of control.
God, this was unreal. Surreal. And altogether too real. His bare hand was on her skin, caressing her breast. And her palm was rubbing up and down his arm, leaving incredible tingling wakes on his dermoire.
More. He needed more of this miracle named Idess.
