Moonlight Mist: A Limited Edition Collection of Fantasy & Paranormal)

by Nicole Morgan

  She stepped through the archway, expecting to see the Blood Portal. Headstones and coffin shaped mounds of dirt greeted her. Ten graves. Headstones carved from white, shimmering marble, the handles of various swords stabbed into the earth behind the grave markers. The engraved names…some were familiar, not because she personally knew them, but because they were legendary warriors who all chose the wrong path. They fell following Metatron in the Great Betrayal.

  Cleansing, not betrayal, Aurora. That’s how Warrant viewed his fall. Looking at the graves arranged like spokes in a wheel, she could see why. “They were your friends.”

  “No,” he grunted and curled his hands into fists. “We worked together for a common cause.”

  A lie. They were his friends, but she wouldn’t challenge him. “What was the cause?”

  “We fell because we believed.” He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “And from the moment we landed here, we have tried to redeem ourselves, and failed.”

  “And paid with your lives.” Solemn, she bowed her head and showed respect with a quiet prayer.

  “As is the right of a warrior. To die in battle, with honor…though UnHallowed.” His voice dipped at the end to a low, pained rumble.

  “And in disgrace,” she whispered. “How did they die?”

  “Gloating are you? Going to say they deserved it because they were fallen, unworthy?” He snapped and weaved between the headstones, his dark, pitted eyes now red-ringed. “Karael died in the swamp of Louisiana. Nuriel died in London. Sandalphon brought Nuriel’s body here, only to be ambushed and died on the doorstep. Af died fighting by my side, and Caim…he shot himself with iron until he burned from within.”

  Aurora didn’t want to hear anymore, but the determined anguish in his voice kept her silent. She suspected he’d never spoken of this to another soul. Snatching this moment away from him would be cruel. Regardless of what he said, and the torment seeping from him and buffeting her.

  He came to the last grave and knelt beside the headstone. His hand trailed over the carved letterings, removing a fine layer of dirt. Then his finger slipped into the etchings. “Merrix died in my arms, shielding me from a Darkling when I was too spent to continue the fight.”

  Waves of guilt and sorrow lashed her. She went to him and wrapped her arms around his bowed shoulders. Leaning against his back, the shudders wracking his body sent her trembling. The sorrow battering her left her crying. How she longed to lighten the burden of his guilt.

  “What are you doing?” he croaked.

  Her answer was to tighten her hold.

  Warrant turned and pulled her into his arms. Tears flowed down her cheeks. She couldn’t stop them. She hurt because he hurt. His anguish became hers. He kissed her damp cheeks. “Please, please, don’t cry.”

  Aurora wished she could stop, but the pain was just too much. His raw suffering was too much to absorb, but maybe not too much to share. If only he would let her in and not push her away. He tilted her chin up and kissed her, sweetly, whittling away at the pain. Slowly, her emotions morphed from sorrow to hunger for his mouth, his breath in her lungs, his touch anywhere, everywhere.

  One hand moved up the column of her neck, the other stroked the curve of her jaw. Indecision warred in his eyes and his hesitant touch.

  “I want this, want you.” She meant it, every word. Aurora captured his mouth in a deliberate kiss, one designed to shave his resistance. She teased the firm seam of his lips with light swipes of her tongue until his lips softened and parted under her gentle assault. She delved into his mouth and flirted with his tongue.

  He groaned and folded her in his embrace. A bout of dizziness sapped her strength. She hadn’t realized she closed her eyes until she opened them. They were back in her bedroom. Candles burned, scenting the air with sandalwood and wax.

  She walked him backwards to the waiting bed. The edge of the mattress hit the back of his knees, she pushed and followed him down. She parted her thighs and settled her weight on his lap. His rough palms rested on her splayed knees, causing goose bumps to flash across her skin and heat to blossom between her thighs. Barely grazing her skin, he kissed her neck as his hands traveled higher.

  Her pulse leaped at the sensual caress of a hot tongue mingled with an equally hot breath coasting up her neck, which competed with his hands gripping her rear. Anticipation had her gripping his shirt. He couldn’t stop, she wouldn’t let him.

  He breached the edge of her lace panties, palmed the twin globes, and yanked her against him. Aurora’s head fell back as he moved beneath her. She delighted in the erotic feel of his rough hands and the hardness of him rocking against her clef.

  She burned. Her hands left his shoulders to thread into his hair and keep his velvet tongue on her flesh. The short, silky waves curled around her fingers as if each strand sought personal attention. He pulled away, panting, dark eyes blazing with hunger. She lifted his shirt and shoved her hand beneath. His skin was cool and smooth, abdomen taut. She touched and stroked, played with what she wanted to see. The bricked muscles of his abdomen clenched and relaxed as her nails scraped along the ridges. His pleasured hiss caused her nipples to pebble. All that raw power throbbing around her had her giddy.

  Warrant gripped the collar of his shirt and ripped. She had a single glance at perfection, then her shirt was up and over her head. Her pendant tangled in the clothing, went too. No bra to hide behind because the backless, spaghetti strap gown required none, she was bare for his scrutiny.

  The intensity of his gaze as he studied her left her flushed and slightly afraid. Did he care for what he saw, her pink-tipped breasts? With no experience in this area, how could she tell?

  His nostrils flared and a starved glint entered his eyes. Gently, he cupped and thumbed her nipples. “You are so…”

  Her blood singing at the intimacy, she arched into his touch. “So, what?” She needed to hear his praise.

  “Lovely. More temptation than any man can bear. More than I can bear,” he said low before he took a nipple into his mouth. His tongue, rough, yet velveteen, twirled around the tip before he pulled it into his hot mouth. She cried out at the indescribable sensation and the gathering tension in her core.

  “Do you like that?” He laved the other breast.

  Her answer was to slap her hand to the back of his neck and hold him in place. All of her hummed at the intense pleasure assailing her.

  It was too much, yet she prayed for more. Warrant chuckled, the sexiest sound she’d ever heard, against her skin. He bowed her backwards, had her balanced in his arms while she hovered over the floor. Their gazes met, and she had absolute trust he wouldn’t let her fall.

  He turned and splayed her across the cool sheets. Candlelight teased his broad shoulders, muscled arms, and hard, smooth chest as a lover would. As her tongue would shortly. Heat flared between her legs, highlighting her emptiness.

  His gaze, almost as potent as his touch, caressed her breasts, roamed down her abdomen, and settled on the black bikini hugging her hips. Wetness dampened her panties.

  He slipped a finger under the thin strap on her left hip and stopped. Aurora watched his expression as she lifted her bottom. Her breath came hard and fast as his face hardened with desire.

  “I want your flavor in my mouth,” he groaned. It was a statement. Not a question. He skimmed the panties over her bottom and trailed his fingers and the strip of lace down her thighs, paused to trace a pattern on her knees, then continued down her calves to her ankles. She shuddered as he tossed them over his shoulder.

  “Yes.” No hesitation. She wanted him with a fervent edge bordering on desperation.

  With a gentle touch to her knees, he spread her legs. His hands smoothed up the inside of her thighs, leaving them trembling as he settled his wide shoulders between. One leg on each of his shoulders, aware of each shift and roll of his muscles, she braced on her elbows to watch.

  Her body tensed when he wet his lips and he leaned forward. His head bowed and her breath
caught in anticipation. The softest brush of his mouth to her inner thighs left her gasping. Then he delved between the folds and swept over her most intimate area, once, twice…thrice… Aurora collapsed onto the bed, utterly lost in the sensual assault.

  His moan reverberated from him to her. She would’ve joined him with the same response, but with one lick he’d rendered her speechless. She succumbed to the thrusts and flicks of his tongue, the torture, and the ecstasy as a maelstrom of sensations swirled within her. The voice that came from her, cries and pleas, she didn’t recognize. Who was this person begging Warrant to continue, tilting her hips for more of his attention? Gripping his hair with one hand to keep him in place and the sheets with the other.

  She didn’t expect this, this out of control torture she desperately wanted to continue. “Don’t. Stop.” She managed to grunt and received a garbled moan for a response. This mouth on her sex, words couldn’t describe the slick heat each lap of his tongue sent through her.

  As a Comfort, she had watched thousands of lovers, gaged their responses with a clinical eye while appreciating none of the passionate act. Now she understood the panting, grasping hands, and the straining, sweaty bodies. All that she finally comprehended from only the touch of his tongue to her aching flesh. A precipice approached. A point of no return that she feared and desired at the same time. Her body clenched, and an unexpected vibration took hold in her legs, in her core.

  A finger joined the sensual torture. He circled her opening and moved up to the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex. Pleasure skipped through her body in escalating waves. She shook from the roots of her hair to the soles of her feet. A bit of rational thought seeped through the waves of pleasure. One more flick of his finger and…his tongue swept over the nerves. A scream tore from her throat as her loins exploded in heat. Her legs snapped around his head. He pried them open and feed off her. She bucked, thrashing, it was too much. She couldn’t survive this torment. Because after the torment ended, the deepest sense of gratification filled her.

  Panting, she watched from hooded eyes as Warrant climbed to his feet, unzipped his pants, and peeled them off, an erotic display that almost pushed her over the precipice again.

  Nothing compared to Warrant’s perfection. Pale skin stretched over broad shoulders, a heavily padded chest, and a flat washboard stomach her fingers had already memorized. Faint scars added an additional deadly edge—as if he needed more. Her gaze dipped lower.

  She’d seen the male form in all the stages of arousal. Had always looked with cold, unimpressed detachment. Warrant was…impressive.

  With a leonine crawl, he covered her body. Again, Aurora parted her thighs, accommodating his bulk, relishing the heady weight of him. She pulsed, ready…waiting, and unafraid. She clutched his shoulders and welcomed his fevered kisses. His thick flesh slid between her folds and pressed into her body. She shuddered at the erotic feel of him—hot and hard. So hard.

  He thrust forward, cleaved into her. A quick flash of pain ripped the pleasure away. She gripped his biceps, clutched him to her, and blew through the fading pain.

  He stilled. Eyes wide with surprise and regret, he retreated. “I didn’t—why didn’t you tell me!”

  Aurora wrapped her legs around his waist. “Don’t. I want this.”

  He shook his head. “I hurt you. I-I’m sorry. You should have told me.” Worry filled his eyes and words.

  “Why? It shouldn’t have made a difference. Not when this is what we both wanted.” Aurora licked the angry seam of his mouth and rocked her hips, easing him deeper inside.

  His eyes glassed over.

  “This was my decision. I decided on you.” She thrust her tongue between his slack lips, licking, sucking. Their groans mingled, and Warrant flexed his hips. He pushed deeper into her body—an ache whispered—and then withdrew. She whimpered a protest, but his insistent mouth didn’t allow speech. A rough palm slid down her flank, landed on her hip.

  Warrant plunged inside, as far as he could go, stretching her. Sublime pleasure filled every part of Aurora. She gasped and opened herself for more of whatever he wanted to give, she wouldn’t refuse. Then she lost herself in the give and take, advance and retreat of his body merging into hers. The rhythm he set was steady, gave her time to savor his possession.

  A hand cradled the back of her head while an arm circled her hips and a hand palmed her ass. Immobile, able to receive, not give, Warrant poured his passion into Aurora, driving into her with relentless strokes. Bliss twisted through her, blinded her to everything except the UnHallowed taking her to the brink.

  His head dropped to her breast and he pulled a nipple into his mouth. She cried out, a garbled sound meant to be his name. Writhing, seeking all he had to give, she sobbed, and her inner muscles clenched around his shaft. Warrant murmured something against her skin and he pounded into her. With lengthening thrusts and tortuous lips, he demanded all she had to give.

  Her oncoming release gathered speed, twisted through her groin, and consumed. She came undone in a starburst of sensation. Jerking wildly as if lightning struck, the orgasm wrecked her, went on forever. Vaguely, she heard his shout, his muscles strained under his flushed skin, and he pulsed deep within. Pinned, he kept her in place while he spilled his seed, then he slumped on top of her.

  His weight, great, but a burden she welcomed, and held him close. She pressed a kiss to his damp shoulder and a shudder ran the length of his body.

  Aurora loved his responses to her touch. She did it again and received another. He turned his head and trailed kisses to her lips as he rolled them until she lay sprawled on top, her body lax. His touch soothed as he caressed her back with tender strokes.

  “Is it wrong to compliment you?” she murmured, and received a chuckle.

  “Not worried my ego can’t handle it?” His voice was thick and drowsy.

  Aurora yawned. The soothing arms of sleep crept closer. “It’s the truth. Besides, you can handle it. You can handle anything.”

  “Except you,” he mumbled. “You, Aurora, are an unexpected gift. A treasure hidden beneath…”

  Her drowsy mind waited for him to finish. He didn’t. A soft snore had her easing off his chest to peer at him.

  Slumber transformed his usually tight features into a peaceful repose. He looked so young. Though soulless, he appeared innocent. The opposite of the trained killer his once noble service had demanded of him.

  She caressed his cheek. Her thoughts should be on her ascension and his redemption. But all she could think about was how good he felt lying beneath her. And how this moment was better than any she’d ever had in her existence.

  He turned into her palm and kissed the center. His breath slow, a lazy smile tweaking his mouth, he mumbled, “Love you… Stay with…”

  Chapter Eight

  Aurora swallowed down the hysteria climbing up her throat. What? What did he just say? That couldn’t be what he just said! She gripped his shoulder and shook. Out cold, she’d barely budged him. He slept as if he hadn’t closed his eyes in centuries.

  “How can you sleep after saying something like that?” She shook him again, then slapped his chest in frustration. The words…he hadn’t meant them. He threw them out without a care. They were meaningless.

  Yet, a warrior never said anything he didn’t mean. Even after passion has loosened his restraint? Hope was a dangerous kernel seeking roots and writhing her soul. Why? Why should she hope for something she should not have?

  Her chest tightened with an emotion she dared not name. Instead of delving deeper into her treacherous feelings, she studied his arrogant, yet oh so appealing face. A face she’d never forget, even if she had the will to try. His brow, smooth and relaxed in slumber; a straight nose; and firm, tempting lips. Was this the true Warrant? The man who saved her, worried over hurting her, cared for her injured feet, protected her…made love to her. Or was he the demon Archangel Michael had sent her to judge and condemn to the lowest pit of Hell. Her heart gave an answ
er and no peace.

  Uncertainty over her next actions, regret that she had to make a decision, and fear that no matter what her choice or reasons, it would be wrong, had her surging from the warmth of the bed, away from the UnHallowed she wanted to save, not redeem. Love, not kill.

  She clutched the bedpost. Angels didn’t mix with the UnHallowed. If ever that day came, it would be on a battlefield, death the result. Regardless, she didn’t want to let go of what she had just found, what he helped uncover.

  The cost of keeping him, to her future and her heart… Angels loved, they didn’t fall in love. Still, she knew what she wanted, what answer she wanted to give. Just one question remained. Was he worth it? Worth all she had to give up, cast aside to be with an UnHallowed.

  Captain Aurora. The new title was a lofty goal. It was the only thing she’d ever had, all that kept her sane when her compassion had waned and finally vanished.

  Leaning against the bedpost, she watched him sleep, listened to his steady breathing as the minutes stretched into hours. The protective urge gluing her to his side was new and strange. Never did she have this reaction to any of the humans she comforted.

  Those one-sided interactions where she gave and they received, defined her existence. No one had ever comforted her. Is that why she stayed guarding an UnHallowed? A fallen, dishonored angel—now demon—when she should slay him? Was a days’ worth of kindness all it took to sway her? The bedpost creaked under her grip.

  She released, flexing her fingers, and crossed to the balcony doors. Intimate muscles ached in the most delicious way, stirring a deeper longing she barely had the will to quell. She opened the French doors and stepped barefoot onto the creaking wooden boards. Sheltered from the buffeting winds by a deep eave, the night air caressed her naked skin.

  Though night still blanketed the sky, clouds fought and blocked the stars. She wanted to see the stars, to center herself and her place in the universe. It was a connection she lost when she fell…