I slipped a hand into my panties and dipped my fingers into my wetness. Oh, fuck that felt … Mmm. I circled my clit and then rubbed downward, hissing at the pleasurable sensations. My hips began to move into my hand. I rolled onto my back and opened my legs wider, pushing my hips up as I slid two fingers deep inside me. I should get up and grab Errol, but this felt too good to stop.
Just give in, just let it take you. Azazel’s breath on my mouth, his milky gaze on my throat, his tongue in my mouth, his lips sliding over mine, and his hands kneading my breasts. He’d suck on my nipples and then slide down my body to plant himself between my thighs and run his tongue up my slit and—I cried out as my body spasmed and rippled with a violent orgasm that had me rocking desperately into my hand as I rode the wave and crested again and again.
Fuck. I lay back, chest heaving, and then shame stung my cheeks. What the fuck was I doing? Shit. Had anyone heard? How loud was I?
I rolled onto my side and pulled the covers up over me. I’d just wanked off to Azazel, and honestly, I wasn’t even embarrassed.
I’d told Cora I was okay being single, and at the time, that was true, but my recent higher-than-usual horny drive was accompanied by the desire to be intimate, not just sexually but emotionally. I needed a man of my own. Someone to be there for me for once.
I closed my eyes, and Azazel’s face filled my vision. Urgh. Several minutes passed, but sleep refused to come.
Dammit.
I threw back the covers and pulled on some sweats. Back in Necro, there was only one cure for sleeplessness.
Some Chaos Dimensions. I’d kick some cript ass in the game and wind down that way. I needed to level my character up anyway. I hesitated outside Cora’s room. She usually kept me company while I played, but she was asleep. Really asleep, and I was loath to wake her.
I grabbed a snack from the kitchen—some crisps I’d had Mal pick up from Necro—and then made myself comfortable in the second lounge.
Unlike the main lounge, this one had cushy sofas made for comfort, not looks. It was a chill-out room with a surround-sound music system, and a huge flat-screen TV bolted to the wall. Although I rarely saw the guys in here.
My gaming system was set up on a table under the TV. The game disc was already in. I’d played a week ago with Cora to cheer me on, so it was just a matter of loading up my saved game.
The TV came on, and I entered the world of the mutated creatures called cripts and huge saber wolves and bloodbeasts. Wait, when had I gotten to this part of the map? I’d been in the marshes last I’d played … hadn’t I?
“Mind if I play?” The sofa dipped as Mal joined me.
I masked my surprise with a shrug and slid a quick glance his way. Bare torso as usual, so his abs were on display. I was still pissed at him and Conah. I opened my mouth to tell him to piss off then changed my mind.
Some company would be nice. “Only if you put on a shirt.”
“Spoilsport. Come on. Unless you’re scared I’ll beat you.”
“It’s co-op.” I kept my eyes on the screen as I cast a spell that melted a cript’s insides.
“Then let me be on your team.”
“Fine. But you’ll be level one, so don’t go running into the—”
But he was already in, appearing by my side as a tank character and charging the horde. Level forty. What the fuck?
“I may have played this before,” he said.
He’d imported his character into my game, which explained why I didn’t recognize the level.
I healed his ass when his health dropped, and we finished off the cripts in companionable silence. I snuck a look at him as we played. His profile was lit by the flickering light from the TV, and his tongue peeked out the side of his mouth as he concentrated. His hair was mussed, and he looked young and unguarded and fucking adorable.
Yeah, it was impossible to stay mad at Mal.
Chapter Twenty-One
My stomach rumbled as I headed quickly for the kitchens. It was just after dawn, but my body was wide awake and ready for whatever the day would bring despite only four hours of sleep.
I needed to check in with my team and Dayna at Deadside just as soon as I got a new comm, but right now, I needed to eat.
Cora was fast asleep, snoring softly under her duvet when I’d checked on her. Our long chat the night before and real sleep seemed to be working wonders for her. There was no sign of Cyril, though. He was probably exploring the nooks and crannies of this place, spying on the imps as they went about their duties. So far, I’d barely bumped into them. I knew Conah had one, Polyindra or something, but I hadn’t met her, and Azazel … Did he have one? There was someone who cleaned, but the only evidence was the dust-free lounge and the dish-free sink.
They didn’t cook, though, that was up to us. Eggs and toast. That was the ticket. Even though the eggs here were twice the size they were in the human world and a funny green color, they tasted fine.
I rounded the doorway to the kitchen to find Azazel sitting at the table eating what looked like porridge, except it was a light purplish color. His hair was neatly brushed and pulled back in his usual half-pony style. Most guys wouldn’t be able to pull off the look, but his wholly masculine features gave him a barbarian edge. A barbarian who’d opted for jeans and T-shirts. And what a fucking T-shirt. It molded to his shoulders and pecs like a second skin.
My heart puttered and flipped as my fantasy slid back into my mind. His mouth on my intimate place, and his tongue lapping at me. I resisted the urge to back out of the room. It was just a fantasy. Not real. Everything was okay. He didn’t know. Shit, don’t think it. Don’t.
“Are you going to come in, or do you intend to hover all morning?” he asked.
His cool, unaffected tone was just the douse I needed for my saucy thoughts. “What is that?” I indicated the porridge-like substance in his bowl.
“Gruel. It’s good for you. Have some.”
“It looks like smurf puke. I think I’ll pass.”
I popped two slices of bread under the grill and turned it on.
“Toasted bread won’t give you the energy you need for training.”
My pulse spiked. “Training? Today?”
“You wanted to train. So we train.”
I stared at his back, at the slight ripple of muscles as he raised the spoon of gruel to his lips.
“You’re on fire,” he said.
Huh? The smell hit me.
Shit. The toast. I pulled the tray out of the grill to find carbon-coated bread. Fuck. “It’s fine. I’ll scrape off the …” I trailed off as he pushed his chair back and fixed his intense silver eyes on me.
“Eat the gruel. You’ll need the energy.” He grabbed a bowl, filled it, and handed me the purple stuff. “Eat.”
“Bossy much?”
“Stubborn much?”
I blinked at him in surprise. Were we bantering? Did monoliths made of living stone banter? But there was a definite edge of softness in his silver eyes this morning.
“Try.” He dipped the spoon in the gruel and then held it to my lips.
A frown crossed his face as if he was surprised at his own action.
My tummy fluttered. Eyes locked with his, I accepted the offering. His gaze dropped to my lips as they closed over the spoon and remained fixated on my mouth as he slid the spoon out.
Sweet with a hint of savory, the gruel was pleasant, but my stomach was busy being invaded by moths as Azazel’s thumb grazed the corner of my mouth. My breath caught at the wonder in his eyes. He was looking at me as if seeing me for the first time, as if he was seeing something new. The mark on my chest throbbed in time to my heartbeat.
He blinked sharply, cutting off our connection. “Try not to drool,” he said, and then dropped the spoon in the bowl and walked out of the room. “Training in an hour,” he called over his shoulder.
I was still standing with my ass against the counter, clutching the bowl of gruel, when Conah entered a moment later. He paused
at the sight of me and concern flitted across his face.
“Fee, are you all right? Is it Cora? Is something wrong?”
No, I’m just standing here because Azazel looked at me with wonder and touched my face gently, and for some reason, I’m having trouble breathing, and he’s my soulmate, and I’m beginning to wonder if that’s such a bad thing.
“Nothing.” I shoved another spoon of gruel into my mouth. “Just fueling up for the day ahead.” The last thing I felt like doing was having a chitchat with him, but years of ingrained politeness had me falling into conversation regardless. “How’s Kiara? I haven’t bumped into her for a couple of days.”
He opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of blood. “She went home.” He uncapped the bottle and poured the thick dark liquid into a mug before popping it into the microwave. “Wedding preparations,” he murmured.
My stomach sank. “Of course. Um, when’s the day?” I didn’t want to know. I didn’t need to know.
“A month.”
The microwave pinged, but he didn’t go for the blood. Instead, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a small golden envelope.
“This arrived for you via phoenix last night,” he said.
Last night, but he was giving it to me now. “Phoenix?” I took the thick envelope.
“They carry messages between the Underealm and the Beyond.”
He was staring at the envelope in my hands, waiting for me to open it. Part of me wanted to be mean and walk out of the room with it, but there was only one person who would be contacting me from the Beyond, and the news he was sending was meant for us all.
I set the bowl down on the counter behind me and carefully unfolded the envelope. Neat black script filled my vision.
Seraphina,
You requested that I keep you informed of any discoveries in the vault. A single text is missing. The log is marked with a celestial symbol instead of a title. I am in the process of making inquiries as to what the text contains. In the meantime, please inform the Dominus of the discovery. I will contact you when I know more.
Uri
Conah didn’t probe or ask what the note said, so I handed it to him.
He scanned it. “This isn’t good. Why would the Dread want a celestial book? What could it contain?”
“Well, whatever it is, they made sure to make enough of a mess to stall us. They obviously wanted it really bad, and now they have it.”
He rubbed his chin, sapphire eyes darkening as if troubling thoughts were going through his mind.
He handed me the note again. “Why did Uri write to you?”
“Because I asked him to. I helped him with the log.”
“Yes, Mal might have mentioned that.”
An awkward silence descended between us, and for the first time since we’d met, I wanted to run from the room, not because I was trying to avoid throwing myself at him, but because the sight of him annoyed me. Looking at his golden hair and Adonis face reminded me of how stupid I’d been lusting after a man I didn’t know. Someone who’d decided I was too weak without giving me the opportunity to prove myself. He’d mollycoddled me and made it seem like he cared, but all the time he’d been doubting me, and the condescending way he’d spoken to me last night …
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
Shit. “No. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to act contrite so I’ll let you off the hook.”
“You’re not the kind of person to hold a grudge,” he reminded me.
“It’s never too late to start.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“That’s just it. I don’t think you were. I think you were protecting yourself. I think you were protecting the Dominus reputation.”
He closed his eyes for a beat and then nodded. “Maybe a little.”
My chest ached at his admission.
“Maybe to start with,” he continued, “but then it became more about you. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”
No, it was more than that. “You thought I wasn’t good enough. That I wouldn’t be able to do the job. You thought I was mentally unstable and physically unable.”
“Yes,” he admitted. “I didn’t think you were strong enough. I was wrong.” He met my gaze levelly. “I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”
Cyril’s words came back to me, the conversation he’d overheard the other night. “You’re sorry?”
“Yes.”
“And you won’t lie to me again, underestimate me, or keep secrets?”
A pained look flitted across his face. I waited with bated breath. This was his chance to fess up. To tell me about the thing Mal and he suspected. The thing he thought was a non-issue right now. This was his moment to redeem himself.
He blinked, and his expression smoothed out. “I promise you, no more lies and no secrets.”
His words were a thorn stabbing at my heart. “Right.” My lips turned down. I was tempted to storm out of the room, but fuck that. “Well, that’s just bullshit, isn’t it? I know you and Mal have another secret about me, one which you think is a non-issue right now.”
His eyes widened. “How—”
“It doesn’t matter how I know. All that matters is that you just lied to me. Again.”
“Fee—”
This time I did storm past him because I was done watching his pretty mouth move.
Chapter Twenty-Two
My arms ached from punching the shit out of the punchbag, but I was getting a good swing going when large hands grabbed it and halted my momentum.
I growled low in my throat and glared at Azazel. “I’m training.”
“You’re angry.”
“Aren’t you observant. Conah lied to me again today. I’m so done with his shit.”
I punched the bag again, but with him holding onto it, the damn thing didn’t even budge.
“You’re angry because you care,” he said.
“Of course I care. I care when people lie to me and keep secrets.”
“What about Mal?”
I walked away, unwrapping the bandages from my hand. “What about him?”
“Did he keep secrets too?”
I paused at his words. Mal … I was annoyed at Mal but not angry, not like I was pissed at Conah. “Mal’s different. I don’t expect anything from Mal.”
As soon as the words were out, the knot in my chest loosened. My anger wasn’t just about the secrets, it was about the fact that Conah had been the one keeping them. I was pissed off that he’d thought less of me. It was about him. It was personal.
Azazel handed me a bottle of water.
I twisted off the cap and took several gulps.
He lowered himself beside me, and I shifted away. “Don’t get too close. I’m all sweaty.”
“I don’t mind sweat,” Azazel said.
I glanced across at him and caught a flash of intensity in his silver eyes before he blinked and it was gone.
“You were raised as a human,” he said. “You have a tulpa, and you were an untrained mess when you got here. Conah was working with what he had.”
I smoothed strands of hair off my sweaty forehead. “I was willing to move on and let it go, but he’s hiding something else from me. I know he is.”
“It’s in Conah’s nature to protect,” Azazel said. “Sometimes, he can be overprotective. It’s why he and Kiara work so well. She’s willing to surrender herself to him completely. With Kiara, he need not worry because he can predict what her responses and reactions will be, and he’s confident that she’ll allow him to guide her. But with you, there are no assurances.”
“Yeah, well, sorry, being a puppet doesn’t appeal to me.” I glugged more water and then stood. I was done discussing the topic. “So, are we going to train or not?”
Azazel stood, his huge body dwarfing mine. Even with my five-seven height, I was forced to tilt my head to look up at him.
He studied me through thick lashes. “Run.” There was a delicious rumble to his voice th
at had the prey inside me wanting to surrender. “I’ll give you a five-second head start.”
Fuck.
* * *
My parkour skills were improving. I’d managed to evade Azazel for a good five minutes before he’d snagged me out of the air and pinned me to the mat with his huge, taut body. Having him pressed to me, legs tangled with mine, the back of his forearm at my throat, and his intense gaze locked on my mouth was probably the highlight of my day.
How sad was that?
But like the last time, he’d jumped off me like I was made of thorns. Now back in my room, showered and fresh, my mind kept going over those few moments when we’d been full-body touching.
I picked up my hairbrush. It looked different, newer. Iza must have cleaned out the hairball wrapped around the bristles. That imp was too good to me. I tugged it through my damp hair and then strapped on the new comm. It had been on my bed when I entered my room, along with Conah’s distinctive scent. The fact he’d been in my room when I wasn’t here made me feel weird. Had he snooped? What if he’d found Errol? Had he compared sizes? To be a fly on the wall for that one.
My gaze slid to my bedside table. Maybe I should hide my vibrating toy. I mean, I wouldn’t want anyone to get an inferiority complex.
I smoothed a hand over my hips encased in skinny jeans. Yep, I was wearing skinny jeans, and no, they didn’t threaten to tear when I sat down. Whooo. I twisted to check out my butt in the full-length mirror. Peachy. Cora and I weren’t headed out for a few more hours, but there was no harm in trying shit on.
The off-the-shoulder black blouse exposed an inch of my midriff and looked stunning against my silver-blonde hair, which I’d piled up in an artful messy do, leaving tendrils hanging to frame my face. The whole look said I didn’t even try but look how sexy I am. Shame I’d have to cover it all up with a heavy coat and boots when I went out. Senki was freezing all of the time. But it would be warm in the tavern, so I’d get to show off my outfit then.
Reaper Uninvited: Deadside Reapers book 2 Page 13
