Restraint (The Revelation Series Book 2)

by Randi Cooley Wilson

  His chin dips. “Just because I’m bound and can’t say it, doesn’t mean I don’t feel it.”

  Asher’s mouth descends on mine, drowning me in passion and the forbidden. His lips are forceful and violent as he deepens the kiss, fueling the fire that’s always between us. Our tongues dance at a frantic pace. I moan into the kiss as desire floods through my veins. My fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling them toward me in an attempt to get even closer to him.

  With our mouths fused, Asher shifts us so he can lean over me as he lays me down on the bed. He pulls his mouth away, long enough to peel off both of our shirts. I scrape my fingernails down his back, over the dragon tattoo, and his body shudders in response to my touch. I relish the sexy look of desire on his face. He watches me while he pushes the hair off my face.

  “I do, you know. I fucking feel it every time I look at you,” he admits.

  My heart lurches at his admission. I lift my head and run my tongue over his lips, savoring the words he just spoke. In response, Asher makes a deep, masculine noise in the back of his throat, readjusting his body over mine. The erotic sound and weight of his body has me coming apart at the seams.

  He moves his hands over the delicate lace of my black bra. I gasp as he presses against me, teasing the growing ache between my legs. His lips move to my neck, biting and sucking mercilessly before leaving a path of deep kisses that produce animalistic hums from my throat.

  Our hips move together at an urgent pace. I sit up, forcing Asher to stand. My lips graze his skin, landing over the protector tattoo. I brush them back and forth over the scar from my dagger, causing his body to tremble in my arms at the intimate touch. He fists his hands in my hair, holding my lips still over his heart. I look up through my dark lashes, lips still pressed to the tattooed area.

  My hands drop to his jeans, unbuttoning them and pushing down the denim as the blue hue in his eyes darkens. With his hands still tangled in my hair, he yanks my head back and then returns his lips to my mouth, kissing me hungrily. Sliding his hands behind my back and unclasping my bra, his fingers run over my shoulders and release the straps one at a time, removing the material. The caresses his fingers leave burn my skin. Asher allows his eyes to roam over me with worship.

  “You’re so unbelievably breathtaking.” His voice is heavy with admiration.

  Large expert hands glide over my breasts and stomach before unbuttoning my pants and tugging them off. Leaving me exposed in my black lace panties, he leans forward, taking my mouth again and devouring me.

  “So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against my lips.

  His hands caress me everywhere. I suck in an uneven breath. Then he thrusts his hips into my lower body and I moan loudly. Asher hisses in a sharp breath before planting another searing kiss on me, swallowing my whimpers as he pushes harder against me over and over at an incredible pace.

  I wrap my hands around his wrists tightly and repeat his name in almost an incoherent chant. His mouth moves to my breasts, showering each one with meticulous attention as I arch into him.

  “Oh. My. God, Asher.” I gasp, finding my voice and grabbing his hips as we press together in an out-of-control frenzy.

  He pulls his head back and looks directly in my eyes, both of us panting uncontrollably.

  “I want to hear you say it again, siren,” he mutters through breathy gasps.

  Twisting his fingers in the edges of my panties, he settles in between my thighs, pressing directly against me in the most mind-blowing rhythm, causing a sensual friction.

  Asher drops his head to my forehead as I lift my hips and urge him against my body. The hum from the protector tattoo heightens each sensation. His eyes lock on mine, piercing each layer until he hits my soul.

  “I love you,” I manage to whisper in between my quick breaths.

  Gripping my panties tightly, so they press into my body, he grinds one last time against me in a hard, fast move as I arch my back and cry out. Asher curses under his breath, holding me as my body quivers while the rapture floats through me.

  He returns his lips to me in a slow, seductive kiss. His forehead is glued to mine. We stay like that until our breathing becomes controlled.

  “Holy shit,” he says, his fingers still twisted in the delicate fabric.

  I inhale a lungful of air as he plants light kisses to my eyebrows. “I guess you were wrong.”

  He pulls his brows together in confusion.

  “My virtue is safe around you.” I smile as he tightens his hold of the material.

  “Make no mistake, siren. More than anything, I want to rip this delicate barrier away and bury myself in you.” He pulls at my panties before releasing them and rolling onto his back, pulling me to curl into his side.

  I sigh in contentment. My body is limp and my mind is vacant from the experience we just shared.

  He grows quiet, lost in thought as he begins to draw random designs on my lower back with his finger. “I won’t though. Not until I can say it back to you, yeah?”

  I nod my agreement. “God, if it was that good with the barrier, imagine what it will be like without it.”

  “It’s going to be so fucking amazing,” he vows with a cocky smirk.

  19

  Wage War

  My lips are starting to ache. They’re swollen, bruised and have been kissed to the point that I have absolutely no feeling left in them. Asher’s had me pressed against the refrigerator since I threw my full glass of orange juice at him during a rather loud screaming match.

  The argument was brought on with an accusation of me ‘stealing,’ his word, not mine, his dark powers. After quarrelling in circles for what felt like an eternity, I was done. So, in a very mature fashion, I picked up the glass and threw the citrus liquid at him.

  Once the shock wore off, he grabbed me and pushed me against the stainless steel appliance, covering my body with his sticky, orange scented one in a punishing kiss that’s lasted for, what I’m guessing has been about an hour now.

  “Mmm. You taste sweet,” I purr and lick some of the juice off his lips.

  He chuckles. “I thought sweet wasn’t your thing, sweatheart?”

  I growl at the nickname. “Maybe it is now.”

  Asher gives me his signature sexy smirk and leans in to take my lips again but stops as soon as we hear knocking at the front door. He growls and plants once last quick peck on my mouth before heading to answer it.

  “Dude, what the fuck?” Callan’s laugh floats into the kitchen. “Did you get in a fight with the orange juice container this morning?”

  “Something like that,” Asher answers in embarrassment as I bite my lip, trying not to laugh. “What’s up?”

  Callan sighs. “Keegan is calling a meeting. First floor. One hour. He sent me to tell you and Eves.”

  “All right, we’ll be there,” Asher says.

  The hallway is quiet for a moment before I hear Callan shout, “Morning, cutie! I like the citrus look.” His laughter is contagious as I listen to Asher pushing him out the front door.

  Ash walks back into the kitchen, amusement clear on his face. “You think this is funny?” He motions to his wet and sticky body. “I’ll show you funny, siren.”

  With a squeal, I run around the island and head to the safety of my bathroom to shower and get ready for the meeting. Through the locked door, I hear Asher laugh. “Payback’s a bitch.”

  Once I hear him walk away, I turn the water on and smile at myself in the mirror. Shit, I really am in love with him.

  I’m attempting to blow-dry my unruly hair when Asher knocks at the door. I swing it open to see him freshly showered and looking gorgeous in his standard outfit. Jeans, a white t-shirt, black motorcycle boots and leather wristbands on each of his arms. My outright appraisal of him with my eyes earns me a cocky smile.

  “Like what you see, siren?” He uses his standard line while biting his lip.

  “I’ve seen better.” I shrug, giving him my usual answer.

  He sna
rls and lunges for me, lifting me on the sink counter and standing between my legs. With his hands cupping my face, he murmurs against my lips. “You’re mine. Remember that.”

  “Forever,” I promise before his lips tangle with mine at a slow, tender pace.

  He moans in displeasure. “As much as I’d like to stay here all day, attached to your beautiful, pouty pink lips, we need to get down to the meeting.”

  I sulk. “Okay, I’ll meet you down there in like five minutes.”

  He watches me then leans forward, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead before releasing my face and stepping back. “Five minutes, siren. I’m sending McKenna up while you finish.”

  I roll my eyes. “The sooner you leave, the sooner I’ll be done.”

  He smirks and walks out the door, but turns at the last minute and smiles at me. “Say it again.”

  I tilt my head to the side then walk up to him, put both arms around his waist and look him in the eyes. “Asher St. Michael, you are full of gargoyle awesomeness.”

  He inhales and closes his eyes. “I’ll never get tired of hearing that.”

  “What? That you’re awesome?” I tease.

  “Fuck yeah.” He smiles before giving me one final searing kiss. “Five minutes, siren, or I’ll be back to drag your cute little ass downstairs.”

  “Yes, sir.” I salute as he walks backwards out of the room, smirking the entire time.

  A few moments later, McKenna appears in the doorway. “Almost ready, blood of Eden?”

  “Yep. Just give me a second.”

  Throwing on my vanilla-coconut gloss, I head into the living room, prepared for McKenna’s wrath.

  “I’m ready,” I say in a light-hearted manner, hoping she won’t be bitchy.

  “Is that so?” A chilling male voice rumbles through me.

  I stop in my tracks at the site of the six-foot half-demon and half-gargoyle dressed in a black button down shirt and black dress pants. Oh shit!

  Deacon turns his muscular body to face me. Brown eyes that are almost black narrow at my appearance. He rubs a hand over a snake tattoo that is mostly covered by his black buzzed hair as my eyes follow it down to his neck. The reptile wraps around his throat and continues inside the top of his shirt.

  “H-how did you get in here?” I question, scanning the room for anything that might help me and wondering where McKenna is. Then I see her wrapped in an unfamiliar man’s arms. Deacon’s mate, Jade, has a knife pointed at her heart while she swears ferociously and profusely. Crap.

  Deacon smirks in a sinister manner. “Unprotected again, little girl?” The question is a sneer.

  A strangled laugh comes out of me. “They’re all here. They can sense you,” I warn.

  “Not fast enough.” He springs at me with such speed I can’t react. His large hand roughly grasps a handful of my hair, snapping my head forward. A stinging sensation makes its way down my neck and over my spine.

  He smiles at me in an evil manner one final time before we disappear, but not before my eyes lock onto a panic-stricken McKenna.

  ***

  With a snarl, Deacon throws me onto the cold, damp stone floor, causing me to land on my legs awkwardly. I groan as pain shoots through my body from the impact. Using my palms, I push my upper body up as I lift my head. “You’re an asshole,” I spout through clenched teeth.

  At my insult, Deacon raises his left hand and whips it down across my face. I cry out in pain. Blood begins to trickle down my chin from the side of my mouth. Damn that hurt.

  “Learn. Some. Manners, little girl.” He circles me like an animal.

  “Fuck you,” I spit out with some of the blood from my mouth.

  That earns me a kick in the back with his designer shoe. Hard. I grunt and fall completely on the ground, my breath coming in shallow gasps.

  Deacon squats down and grips my chin in a bruising manner. “Lucifer won’t put up with your smart mouth and neither will I.” With a snap of his wrist, he releases the hold as my head drops back to the ground. I close my eyes as his footsteps retreat and I hear a door close.

  I open my eyes and take in my surroundings. I’m in a square cell. Each wall is solid stonework. There are no windows and the door I heard must be hidden within the wall because I can’t see it. The stone cube is empty with the exception of my body, which is lying on the floor, writhing in excruciating pain.

  I suck in a breath as the tears begin to flow. Damn it, why didn’t I just go with Asher? I close my eyes and picture him smiling at me as a sob escapes before I suck it back in. I refuse to let Deacon make me cry. I need to calm down and think of a way out.

  Minutes become hours and hours, days. I’m not sure how long I’ve been here, or even where here is. Deacon has been back in the cell twice. Both times, I refused water, which led to him using my face as a punching bag. My eyes are swollen shut. I’m sure the cuts on my face and my bruised body are infected. For some reason, I’m not able to heal myself.

  I’ve tried astral projection and dream walking as an attempt to reach out to Asher. Neither is working. There seems to be some sort of block preventing me from using any of the abilities I’ve learned. The longer I sit in here, the weirder this gets. Why hasn’t Deacon just handed me over to Lucifer?

  I hear the door open, but can’t see it because of my disfigured face. I cower and flatten myself against the wall, not able to withstand another strike to my body. I hear slow footsteps approach before someone crouches in front of me.

  “Christ, love.” Gage’s voice hits me.

  “Gage?” I whisper, stunned as my bottom lip begins to quiver.

  “What the fuck happened, Eve?” he says with a heated voice.

  I let out a nasty, throaty sound. “Deacon.”

  Gage curses multiple times before blowing out a long, exaggerated breath. “He wasn’t supposed to harm you.”

  “Obviously, that’s not the case,” I softly shout.

  “I can see that. I’m going to get you out of here but you have to trust me. Can you do that Eve?” He’s silent, waiting for my answer.

  Can I trust Gage? Maybe. “I have no choice,” I say, defeated.

  He pauses. “Understood. I just can’t take you out of here though, okay? I promise you won’t be in here much longer. Trust me,” he urges with sincerity.

  “Fine. I trust you.” My voice is shaky.

  Suddenly, there’s another set of footsteps. “She’s alive. You’re done here,” Deacon says coolly and I stiffen.

  “But not unharmed, Deacon.” Gage seethes.

  “She has a mouth. I have a temper. It makes for unfriendly moments,” he reasons, bored.

  “Do. Not. Lay. Another. Hand. On. Her,” Gage says angrily.

  “Or what, Gallagher?” Deacon taunts.

  “Or I will end you myself,” Gage threatens.

  With that, the cell goes quiet again and I let out the breath I was holding.

  I’m not sure if I fell asleep or passed out from the pain. Or even how long it’s been since Gage’s visit. The sound of loud but muffled voices grabs my interest. I attempt to push up on my palms to get a better angle to hear, but through the granite, I can’t. Exhausted, I just lie back down on the damp stone and close my eyes.

  “She’s in here,” Gage announces as the cell door opens, breaking through the fog of soreness in my head.

  Immediately, I smell Asher’s smoky wood and leather scent. My eyes are puffy slits, but I can faintly make out both good-looking gargoyles. Asher’s eyes look wild and primal as he scans me, taking in every inch with a deadly expression.

  Keegan and Callan come up and stop behind him, both wearing shocked expressions.

  Asher’s breathing is heavy, like he can’t get enough air in his lungs.

  “I’m going to cut his heart out.” His voice is so deep that the hatred ripples through my body.

  “Secure her safety first,” Gage says. “Revenge later.”

  Asher nods once at Gage before Gage departs with an appr
eciative nod from Keegan and a thank you pat on the shoulder from Callan. The two sullen protectors stand guard while Asher makes his way to me, still trying to get a hold on his emotions.

  “What the fuck,” Asher says on a long breath before moving toward me and crouching. At his proximity, I can see the agony on his face. It’s the final crack in my emotional state.

  I start to shake and sob uncontrollably as he gently pulls me into his arms. “Shh. I’ve got you, siren,” he says, burrowing his face in my neck. I grip him tighter.

  “McKenna?” I rasp out.

  “She’s okay. Pissed off, but all right. Deacon and his minions flashed before they pierced her, probably sensing our arrival,” Asher answers quietly.

  Callan’s wrecked face watches us. “Ash, we need to go before Deacon discovers we’re here.”

  At the sound of his name, I freeze and begin to tremble in Asher’s arms. “I’m going to fucking kill that motherfucker,” Asher growls out in cool detachment.

  “No doubt. Let’s get Eves home first,” Callan answers, trying to get Asher to focus and move.

  Asher scoops my injured body up and carries me out of the cell. Keegan and Callan are behind him, weapons drawn. “Does no one else find it odd that he’s letting us just walk out with her?” Callan asks.

  A knowing look crosses Keegan’s face. “This is a set up. Deacon’s smart. He wouldn’t just take her and hand her over to Lucifer. He wants war. In order to get it, he needs her alive and Asher out of the picture.”

  “I’m here, why not ambush and dispose of me now?” Asher asks as the cold, fresh air hits my face. I can’t see much, but it’s dark so I’m assuming it must be night.

  “He’s too tactical for that. This is a game of chess to him,” Callan says, his tone solemn.

  “Why even kidnap her at all?” Asher questions.

  “He’s playing with us. Showing you he can get to her if he wants too,” Callan answers.

  “Deacon is waging war, brothers,” Keegan says firmly. “It’s time we amass an army.”

  Asher’s breath is at my ear. “Close your eyes, siren. We’ll be home soon,” he says in his sexy voice that I can’t say no to.