Ascension

by Felicity Heaton

  A quiet sigh escaped her parted lips when he soaped the top of her breasts and she opened up a little to him, lowering her arms so he could run his thumbs over her nipples and elicit a moan from her. Fascination claimed him when the ascension mark on her chest flashed into being and he stared at the symbol that matched the one on his back. He was destined to help her. His gaze moved to the one she had said meant love. Was she in love with him?

  She took the shower gel and squeezed some onto his chest. His hands stopped their work when she ran hers over him, lathering the soap against his skin with a gentle touch.

  Her caresses remained light as she cleaned him and turned tender when she reached his back and circled the closing bullet wounds with her fingertips. She kissed each one. It wasn’t need for his blood that made her do it. There was affection in the soft kiss, a wish for each press of her lips to instantly heal him and take away his pain. He closed his eyes and hung his head forwards. He was an idiot for forcing her to leave him all those years ago, for not believing all the times she had shown him a glimmer of love.

  Her hands pressed against his back, followed by her cheek. She sighed and he felt it against his skin.

  “It’s getting cold.”

  He turned to face her. He hadn’t realised the water temperature had dropped. He wasn’t as sensitive to changes in temperature as humans were. She gave him a small smile, reached around him, and turned the shower off. He slid the cubicle door open and then stepped back to let her pass.

  His gaze fell to her backside as she walked across the bathroom and took the white towel robe down off the back of the door. He had forgotten just how beautiful her body was. He frowned when he dragged his gaze up and saw the long thin scars down her back. An image of them in the bedroom of his old apartment flashed across his eyes, writhing against each other, rough and passionate, both so hungry they were out of control. He walked over to her and she froze midway through putting the robe on when he touched her back. He placed each finger of his right hand against the start of each line and traced the marks downwards.

  “I never realised I’d been that rough with you.” His frown stayed in place as he stared at the scars. “I must’ve hurt you.”

  She looked over her shoulder, hugging the white robe to her chest. Her grey eyes smiled at him. “It didn’t hurt. I don’t think anything we did hurt at the time... or at least I didn’t feel it.”

  He grinned.

  “Besides,” she shrugged, turned to face him and smiled shyly, “I remember getting my own back a few times.”

  Her fingers stroked the ragged scars on his broad chest and then she stepped up to him and ran her hands down his back. He growled when she cupped his backside and squeezed.

  “Half of these scars are mine,” she whispered and kissed the silvery lines that marked his chest, “and I don’t even have claws.”

  He grinned again, remembering the way she would rake her nails down his chest, crying out his name as she rode him into oblivion. His cock twitched, growing hungry at the memories. He wanted her to do that again, to pin him to the bed and give it to him hard and rough.

  Taig cleared his throat and reined in his desire. It wasn’t going to happen. Not tonight anyway. Tonight was about her, about setting a different pace for their relationship and proving to her that he could do things slowly and with more feeling. He could be human for her if she needed him to be.

  Lealandra’s grey gaze roamed down over his torso and settled on his groin. Her tongue swept over her lips and he groaned. Of course, if she kept doing things like that, it was going to get difficult to control himself, and if she played rough, he might not be able to stop himself from doing the same.

  She slid her hand into his and started walking backwards, leading him from the bathroom and into the bedroom. Taig’s heart thundered, his blood rushing downwards. Her white robe fell open and hung on her breasts, revealing the curve of them, her navel and the neat triangle of dark curls at the apex of her thighs. He reached for her but she sidestepped. A mischievous smile settled on her face. If he didn’t take control, she was going to have him clawing her back to shreds again. He could see it in her eyes. She wanted rough.

  Not tonight.

  Taig moved past her, leading her to the bed. She frowned when he removed her robe and wrapped his arms around her, gentle and slow, setting the pace. She tensed and tried to get her arms free and then contented herself with stroking the patch of his chest that she could reach. He waited a moment, until she was giving him a look that no longer spoke of a desire to be rough with him, and then lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was soft, an outpouring of his feelings, all of them so strong that his breath trembled with each sweep of his lips over hers. He wasn’t used to experiencing emotions as deeply as he was now. These past six years had been hollow without Lealandra, void of any positive emotions, even when he was thinking about her. His bitterness had tainted his memories. Only now could he remember their times together as they truly were—times that had made him happy, that had made him feel as though he belonged somewhere. With her.

  He lay her down on the bed, covering her body with his, but keeping his kiss unhurried. The slow exploration of her lips and the gentle meeting of tongues stirred his blood but not in the usual way. He felt warm and calm, not mindless with passion and hunger. He wanted to be inside her but not because of a need to fulfil his desire. This time, it was born of a need to connect to her and be as one with her. He needed to make love with her.

  Lealandra moaned and placed her hands against his back. Her fingers coursed over his muscles, tracing delightful patterns on them that increased the feelings inside him, fuelling the heat that filled his chest. He smiled against her mouth, worshipping her lips as he intended to worship the rest of her. Because he loved her.

  She ran her hands up to his shoulders as he moved downwards, pressing light kisses to every part of her that he passed. Her throat. Her shoulder. Her chest. Her breasts. He swirled his tongue around her pert rosy nipples and then wrapped his lips around her left one and sucked. She groaned and arched against him, her hands gripping his shoulders. Drawing back, he blew on the sensitive peak to tease it so she moaned again, and then moved on downwards. Each kiss against her skin was a sign of his love, a declaration. She was everything to him. He had never needed anyone as he needed her.

  He reached her hips and kissed a scar there. He remembered that one. He hadn’t done it. It had happened when they had been hunting together. She had healed it and he had kissed it better afterwards. He kissed it again, reiterating his vow to himself. He would protect her. He would make sure that she survived her ascension and whatever dark force was after her. He would keep her safe for the rest of their lives. If she would have him.

  Would she?

  The thought that she wouldn’t made him feel small and vulnerable, on the verge of breaking. He didn’t like how exposed he felt, how easily his strength had disappeared. He needed Lealandra to stay with him. He couldn’t lose her again. She was everything he needed, everything he wanted but never knew he did. She was his air and his reason for living.

  He looked up the length of her, over the beautiful soft peaks and valleys of her torso to her face. Her hands left his shoulders and ran over her sides, caressing her body in a way that made him want to replace her hands with his. He stroked her thighs, running his fingers up them and dipping his thumbs in towards her crotch. She moaned and tilted her head back into the dark red duvet.

  Taig inched her legs apart and lowered his hands, skimming the inside of her thighs. Lealandra arched and moaned again when his thumbs brushed the length of her groin. He moved back, so he was kneeling on the floor, and pulled her towards him. She gasped and tensed when his tongue delved into her plush petals and found her aroused clit. Her fingers instantly tangled in the longer strands of his hair, gripping tight, keeping him in a place where he didn’t want to leave anyway, not until she was panting his name.

  He teased her mercilessly, flicking his t
ongue against her one moment and dipping it down to her sweet opening the next. She tasted divine, heaven on his tongue. He greedily licked again, hungry for her, and then ran his tongue around her nub. Lealandra’s fingers tensed in his hair, tugging. He smiled, hooked his hands over her thighs, pulled her right against his face and lapped at her, alternating between light strokes and hard presses of his tongue. She gasped again and writhed, her muscles tensing against him.

  “Taig,” she whispered and he grinned. That was a sound he loved to hear. The way she said his name when she was close to orgasm, when she was on the brink and needing that final push, was divine. He swirled his tongue again. “Taig!”

  She stiffened a moment and then, after one more stroke of his tongue over her flesh, her thighs jerked and she thrust her hips up with a low moan. Her fingers loosened and her hand fell to his shoulder and then her thigh. She breathed hard, punctuating the beautiful sound with little moans. Taig stroked her inner thighs and she giggled, trying to writhe away so he couldn’t tickle her in her afterglow.

  Lealandra pulled on his shoulder. He obeyed the silent command and lowered her legs before coming to lie next to her on the bed. She moaned and rolled into him, pressing her warm body against his side, and he watched her face, refreshing his memory of how she looked when contented. He loved satisfying her.

  Her hand roamed downwards, over his stomach. He tensed it for her and she groaned her approval. Her lips followed her hand and he closed his eyes, stretching his arms up and locking his hands behind his head. He willed her on. She stopped at his navel, her tongue tracing a circle around it, and, for a moment, he thought she wasn’t going to go any further, but then she moved on, ever downwards. The anticipation of her touch coiled tight inside him, making his hard length jump eagerly when she reached it.

  She pressed soft kisses along the length of his erection before wrapping her lips around the sensitive head. Taig growled and tensed his fingers against each other, gripping the back of his head. Lealandra moaned hungrily and sucked, her tongue torturing the head of his cock and driving him out of his mind. He held back his urge to pump into her mouth, to fill her with his aching erection. Her mouth left him, lips trailing down his length to his balls, and then her tongue caressed him as she licked back up to the head. He groaned and closed his eyes, frowning.

  It was Hell. He wanted to thrust against her, to make her suck him hard and pump him with her hand. He bit his lower lip, sinking his teeth in. They threatened to extend when she put her mouth on him again, taking him all the way in this time and then running her tongue up him as she pulled back, sucking at the same time. He released his lip, afraid he would bite right through it if his demonic side did get the better of him. It was pushing for freedom, stirred by the feel of Lealandra and the things she was doing to him.

  She took him into her mouth again, moaning, and moved so her legs were astride his. The heat of them against him intensified his frown and he groaned when she pressed her hands against his hips, holding him in place. Her damp hair tickled his stomach as she sucked his length, moaning with each plunge of his cock into her, as though she was enjoying it as much as he was. He growled when she sucked hard up his length and released him. He looked at her. She was smiling mischievously. His cock jumped again at the sight of her bending over him on all fours, her breasts swinging freely. Need rolled through him deeper than before, an urgent feeling that wouldn’t pass. It only grew stronger. He wanted her.

  Her tongue caressed her lips.

  Damn he wanted her.

  As if sensing his need, she crawled up the length of him. Her mouth fused with his in a kiss that seared him, making him eagerly rub his erection against her crotch. Needed her.

  Taig was about to roll them over and bury himself in her warm depths when she pushed her hands against his shoulders and drew back. He stared wide-eyed into hers, seeing her intention written clearly in them. If she did that, he didn’t have a hope in Hell of controlling himself.

  “Lea, I—”

  “Shh.” She pressed her finger against his lips to silence him. “I got the memo. Slow and steady it is.”

  He groaned when she took hold of his cock and positioned it at the opening of her slick warm core. Their combined sighs filled the silence when she eased back onto him, sheathing him in her body, and he bit his lip again and grasped her thighs. She settled on him, a satisfied look on her face, and then took hold of his waist.

  Taig could only stare into her eyes as she rode him, slow and steady, just as she had promised. The feel of her hot body around his, of being one with her in this moment, made his power reach for her. They connected and entangled, until they too became one and he could feel everything that she did. It was bliss. Their feelings mirrored each other perfectly but the strength of one feeling within her outshone his.

  Love.

  There was so much love in her and the way she was looking at him made him believe for the first time that it was real. Perhaps she didn’t just have feelings for his human side.

  Lealandra moaned and her eyelids dropped to half-mast. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. He was lost in the emotions running through her and how it felt to be inside her. Her rise and fall was steady, tender, everything he had wanted it to be. She tensed around him, clenching him in her depths, and he groaned, his hands tightening against her thighs. She smiled and did it again, eliciting another moan from him that verged on a growl.

  His demon rose to the surface, drawn by her power, and he was surprised by how calm it was. It didn’t push for freedom or threaten to take control. It was merely there, one with him for a change, lost in this moment together. All of him loved Lealandra and both sides of him needed to know that she loved him too. He needed to see if she could love a demon, because he was beginning to believe that she could and he felt more vulnerable than ever. If he accepted that her love was real, then their time together became more real too, and the future began to matter.

  He had always lived for the moment, uncaring of the danger he placed himself in, almost seeking out death. If Lealandra really loved him, he would need to be more careful, and not only with himself. Her happiness would be his responsibility and he would have to find a way to live with his demon lineage and protect her so it would never be responsible for her demise or pain. Was this how his father had felt, fearing his demon side because it could be a danger to his mother?

  Anger burned deep in his heart, bitterness filling his mouth with an acrid tang, and Taig pushed his thoughts of his parents away, not wanting them to ruin this time with Lealandra. One day he might be able to accept himself but he doubted he could ever accept his father now, not after everything he had been through because of him.

  Lealandra slowed her movements and he sensed the shift in her feelings. His distant silence was concerning her. He focused on her where she sat astride him, her warm body wrapped around his. She was beautiful. Her wet black hair streamed down over her breasts, hiding their dusky peaks, and her slender thighs pressed into his. She grazed her hands over his sides and her grey eyes met his. He groaned when she moved on him, his cock sliding deep inside her hot sheath, and bit his lower lip again, no longer caring if he drew blood.

  Her lips parted and her breathing quickened to match his. He tilted his head back and frowned, his eyes remaining locked on her. She pressed her hands into his stomach, riding him harder, urging them both towards climax. Taig grasped her thighs and thrust into her, slow and deep, countering her movements so as she moved down, he moved up into her. She groaned and closed her eyes, a frown creasing her brow.

  “Taig,” she whispered and he growled in response.

  Her movements became jerky and then she moaned and stiffened. He plunged into her and she gasped, her body convulsing around his, drawing him close to the edge. He continued thrusting as she stilled, captivated by her climax. He growled at the feel of her body milking his and her warmth covering his cock. She opened her eyes and looked deep into his. He tensed and then buried h
imself inside her and came with another long low growl.

  Lealandra smiled and eased down to lay on his chest, her breathing rough and warm on his skin.

  He wrapped his arms around her and sighed slowly to steady his thundering heart.

  “Growly,” she whispered and circled his right nipple with her fingertip.

  Lealandra was right. He wasn’t normally like that. His demon receded, peaceful and sated. Satisfied. He had never had such control over it and it had never played a part in his lovemaking with Lealandra. He frowned, trying to figure it out.

  It hadn’t been a threat and he hadn’t been close to changing. It had been one with him, a part of him, just as his father had said it would be if he practiced controlling himself.

  Perhaps Lealandra was right and all this time he had been wrong.

  He was a man.

  And his demon side was a part of that man, not a separate being to loathe or hide.

  He closed his eyes and drew Lealandra closer to him. Her breathing became soft and shallow. Her heart drummed steadily against his chest.

  Thoughts kept him awake. He couldn’t shake them.

  Could he really come to accept his demon side and his past?

  He still wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to do such a thing. He had never been any good at letting go of his anger, and his feelings about his parents’ disappearance and his demon side had fuelled him for over twenty years. Could he let go of such pain and move on?

  Even if Lealandra loved him, could accept both sides of him, could he accept himself?

  His demon blood still felt like a curse more than anything, a barrier that stood between him and leading a normal life, and the very thought of his father made his blood boil with a desire to destroy. He didn’t want to be like him. He wanted to be human, because then he would never be a threat to Lealandra. She would always be safe around him then. If he were human, he would be certain, would easily believe, that she really did love him with all of her heart.