“Micah, don’t, please.”
“Do you think he’d listen if you pleaded, Lily?” Micah lips brushed the curve of her neck.
Lily shook her head. Micah rolled her taut nipples between his fingers and thumbs, the delicious pressure making her resistance melt into blind need. She ripped the T-shirt off and cast it aside, twisting around to capture Micah’s mouth.
Sammael arched away from the wall, his muffled curses strained with despair. Micah rolled his hips against hers and tugged down her jeans, filling his hands with her ass, his grip driving her out of her mind with need.
“Turn around,” he said in a low, dangerous voice. “Look at him, Lily. I want him to see.”
“But it—it isn’t—”
Micah took her shoulders, turning her gently so he was pressed against her back and she faced Sam, could see his torment. Pleasure coursed through her at the expression, at the corded muscles, at the sheen of sweat glistening on the hard planes and angles of his magnificent body. Micah’s hard-on pressed against the small of her back. As he moved against her, she felt herself succumb.
Fair. She had been about to say fair. But Sam didn’t care about what was fair, or right, or anything like that. Sam cared about pleasure. His pleasure.
Sam tried to close his eyes. Was it easier with the blindfold, she wondered? Did it hurt to look at her, to see her with the angel?
Micah’s long elegant fingers dipped into the wetness between her legs, smoothing back the intricate folds of her skin until they came to rest on the pulsing nub of her clit. Her legs went weak and she gasped as he caught her, controlling her fall, lowering her to her knees. He knelt with her, his every movement the epitome of grace. She parted her legs for him, and Micah’s cock nudged at her opening, surging into her from behind, stretching her, filling her.
Lily looked up to find Sam watching her. He had fallen still, his eyes no longer blazing. As Micah thrust into her, his fingers working their magic on her clit and on her breasts, Sam’s body rocked back and forth, and tears glistened in his eyes. His cock danced not far from her face, a drop of pre-come shining on the head. Her mouth watered at the thought of its taste, at the idea of leaning forward and taking him in her mouth while Micah’s thick cock shafted her. Sam’s gaze flickered over her face, longing, pained. Was it his idea or hers? And did she care either way?
“Come for me first,” Micah instructed huskily.
How could she let him down?
Blood rushed through her, pushing her to that final glorious moment of ecstasy. She cried out Micah’s name and Sam jerked back, his buttocks slapping against the cold wall. Her body clenched, stiffening, and then her passion crested, burst forth from her with a trembling cry of liberation.
Micah roared as he released himself inside her, holding her hips and pounding into her. Lily fell forward onto her hands and thrust back to meet him stroke for stroke.
Sam groaned, his body clearly aching for her, for them.
“Did he feel that?” she asked. “All of it?”
“Every iota of sensation, my bright one.”
“And before?”
“Since this spell was cast, probably since he left us.”
Lily rose up on her knees again and rested her hands on his thighs, where the muscles strained beneath his olive skin. Skimming through the lustre of sweat, she described whorls and spirals. Sam’s chest tightened again and she watched, almost distractedly, as his balls contracted still further, his cock bobbing up and down with need.
“Do you want him, Lily?” Micah began to massage her shoulders. “If you want him, take him.”
Sam’s body stiffened even further. Outrage, she thought. And why not? To be offered like this to someone whom he thought to take. To be treated like some sort of slave. It killed him. It had to.
So why was her arousal building beyond bearing all over again?
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” She licked her lips.
Micah laughed, a chuckle deep inside him that rolled through her body. It was almost as if they had changed places, Sam and Micah. And she was still caught between the two of them.
But somehow she ceased to care.
Lily glanced up the length of Sam’s exquisite body. It shone for her, his chest heaving, each line of muscle the work of a master sculptor. His tears had soaked through the material of the gag and his eyes were closed now, resigned. Noble stoicism personified.
With the tip of her tongue, she licked away that glittering pearl of pre-come that taunted her so. Sam drew in a shuddering breath. Lily curled her tongue around the swollen glans and brought her hands in to tease his balls. They were tight with need, so tight she had never seen the like. Pity surged inside her. Sammael was all about sex, she knew that. He lived it, breathed it, it was his reason for existence.
But he’d never been so helpless in the face of it before.
She knew that instinctively, and it hurt to think that she had put him here. Not directly perhaps. But it was all because of her.
Lily closed her mouth around him, drawing him into her mouth, grazing the sensitive tip with her tongue, which she then curled around the length. She worked his shaft with a gentle but determined hand. He thrust towards her, pushing himself deeper, and she let him, swallowing him. Her hand strayed to the sensitive line of flesh behind his balls and he shivered against her.
Behind her, Micah’s hands stroked her hair, brushed her sides and then withdrew, leaving her to her self-appointed task.
Sam moaned, his voice clearer now. She flicked her eyes up to see that the gag hung around his neck like a black noose. His mouth hung open, pleading wordlessly.
She worked her mouth more quickly, tightening her grip on his shaft. The sounds he made became more desperate and his hips jerked towards her.
Suddenly his voice was smothered again. She heard the sound of a kiss, mouth to mouth, tongue to tongue, hungry and demanding. She glanced up again to find Micah kissing Sam. It wasn’t gentle, or loving. Micah gripped Sam’s face and light sparkled between their lips. Sam moaned into Micah’s mouth and his trapped hands stretched out, flexing and uncurling.
She didn’t know what did it, her mouth on him, or Micah’s, perhaps both together. Sam’s body convulsed suddenly and he came, hard and fast. He bucked against her face, but she grabbed his hips and slammed him back against the wall. Taking his cue from her, Micah overpowered him, still kissing him with unabated passion. He held the demon down while Sam groaned in blissful agony and flooded her.
The bands of iron melted away and suddenly the two of them were the only things holding him up. Gently, with the greatest of care, Micah and Lily released him, but didn’t let him go for fear he would fall. He sagged in their embrace as they lowered him to the floor.
Sam opened his eyes, looking up into their faces with eyes dark and haunted, and now entirely human looking again. His voice was harsh, broken. “Thank you,” he groaned.
“Rest now.” Micah smoothed back Sam’s sweat-drenched hair from his forehead. “Later, we’ll talk.”
Chapter Eleven
Sam came to in Lily’s room rather than his own, tucked into her bed, her comforter pulled up to his armpits, his arms laid out at his sides on the top. Like a corpse or a coma patient. He struggled to sit, but his body ached, his head swam and he fell back down with a snarl of frustration.
Micah appeared in the doorway wearing a pair of black jeans and a white T-shirt, looking just like any human being. Well, not just any human being. He leaned on the doorjamb, training that penetrating blue gaze on his face. “How are you feeling?”
A dozen smart answers sprang to Sam’s mind, but he didn’t voice them. “I’ve felt better. Where’s Lily?”
“On the phone. The police called.”
“D.I. Reid?”
“Yes. There has been a development. Another death. Todd Lane.”
Sam swore and pushed back the covers. He’d never been ashamed of nakedness. He felt far more comfortable in his own s
kin than in clothing, to tell the truth. But as soon as he felt Micah’s gaze on him, he froze.
Images of the previous night surged to the forefront of his mind, the two of them together, Micah’s lips on his.
Sam pushed them away, concentrating on the facts at hand, on the death. “She saw it, didn’t she?”
Micah nodded slowly. “Thought it was you. That’s why we went in there.” His eyes ranged over Sam’s body.
Sam stretched his arms above his head, extending his spine, rolling his head from side to side. Muscle and ligaments protested but if it meant giving the angel a full view and watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down in his throat, it was worth it.
“Which of you came to my rescue first?”
Micah gave a brief and bitter laugh, hardly more than an expulsion of breath. “Yeah, that was me. Charged right in there, of course.”
Sarcasm. Well, Sam could deal with sarcasm. It was more comfortable than a lot of other forms of expression.
Lily appeared behind Micah, her face pale, dark shadows under her grey eyes. A far cry from the vibrant creature who had knelt before him last night and saved his sanity. She looked frail, washed out, hurting. Her eyes locked with his and she ran to him.
Lily’s body hit him hard, almost bowling him over. As it was, he had to take a step or two back to keep his balance. She held him as if her life depended on him. Slowly, he lowered his arms around her, drawing her closer.
“He’s dead. Todd’s dead.”
“What did Reid say?” asked Micah.
“That he was burnt alive. In Jericho Park, last night. About the same time as I—”
“As you saw it happen,” Sam finished for her.
She nodded, her cheek rubbing up and down against his chest. Her lips pressed closer for a moment, a kiss.
Damn it, what did she think? Did she expect something in return?
Micah watched them, his expression unreadable. “But Lily thought it was you. After all, we went looking for you, not Todd.”
“Looking for me?”
“Visualisation. Lily was worried about you so we—”
Sam stiffened, alarm spilling up through his body. “Are you insane? Don’t you know where I could have been? Where you could have taken her?”
“I was there.” Micah lifted his chin, firming his jaw as he clenched his teeth. “I was always with her. She would not have suffered any harm. I will never allow that to happen.”
Sam stroked her hair. She shivered beneath his touch.
“D.I. Reid wants me to look at the crime scene for her, see if I can’t pick up something else about this lunatic,” said Lily.
“You said no, didn’t you?”
She pulled back, looking up into his face in amazement. “I said yes. Sam, if he’s coming after me next I want to give the cops everything they need to catch him. They’re sending a car for me.”
“For us,” Micah corrected just ahead of Sam. She looked just as startled at that. “We’re coming too, Lily. You aren’t going anywhere on your own.”
She disentangled herself from Sam, standing between them as if she wasn’t sure which one to explode at. “I hardly think being with Reid and all her people constitutes being on my own, Micah.”
“It’s the only way I can watch over you, Lily. I’ve done it for twenty years. I’m not about to stop now. So, we’re coming.” He cast that brilliant blue gaze briefly in Sam’s direction. “You’ll need clothes, Sammael.”
He tried to summon them but he was too weak. The image spluttered and died. Micah didn’t react to the failure.
Thank heavens for small mercies. Or whoever.
“They’re next door,” said Sam.
Micah left the room and Lily stormed after him. “Now you just wait a minute, Micah—”
Her voice cut off in the sound of a kiss and Sam froze, just listening to them. The angel was kissing her thoroughly enough to drive all other thoughts from her mind. Sam’s lips burned as the memory of last night returned, of Micah’s mouth claiming his in just such a kiss. A bizarre combination of hard and soft, of give and take, while Lily, saviour of his sanity, Lily had given him a blow job he would never forget.
He sat back on the bed, resting his head in his hands. His body was already reacting again. He could pretend it was just the after-effects of Asmodeus’s touch, but it wasn’t. It was the thought of Lily and Micah, of both of them together. He let out a ragged breath. If he failed, last night would be playtime in comparison to what the Nameless would put him through. If he failed.
Sam drew in another breath and let it out again, commanding his body to get control of itself. Micah was just an angel and Lily was just a mortal. There was no special magic about them, and that feeling of sublime grace when they touched him had just been desire. That was all. The bliss of fulfilled desire. He had to keep it together.
“Here.” The clink of a mug settling on the bedside cabinet nearly made him jump out of his skin. Lily flinched back, but didn’t retreat. She looked down at him with something frighteningly like love in her eyes. “You okay, Sam?”
Okay? No. Definitely not okay. How had she even got that close to him without his knowing? Weakness, that was the problem. He was worn out from last night. Bloody Asmodeus.
The aroma of coffee filled the air, one of the truly great inventions of humanity, but Sam couldn’t be bothered about it now. Lily’s fingers touched his hair, trailing through the dark curls, whispering against his scalp.
“What are we going to do, Sam?” she asked.
He caught her wrist in a firm grip, not hard enough to hurt, but secure enough that she couldn’t pull away. He pressed the side of his face into the palm and then bit, even so gently, on the mound of tender skin below her thumb. Her startled breath ended in a moan.
“Don’t forget about me, Lily.” He didn’t intend for the words to come out in that way, a touch of self-pity seeping through his guard. Damn. Hardening his voice, he tried again. “We still have a deal?”
Her eyes were closed, her mouth open just enough so that he could see the pink of her tongue. She drew in her breath, exhaled and her fingers flexed against his face. “Yes, Sam. But—”
He rose to his feet, sweeping her into his arms, burrowing one hand into her hair so she had to look at him, the other tight on the small of her back, pulling her hard against his body. The first flicker of fear reasserted itself in her eyes. That was better. He needed her to remember what he was, what he intended.
He needed to remind himself.
“No buts, Lily. There were no buts when you agreed, were there?”
She opened her mouth again to speak, but then the spark faded in her eyes. She pressed her soft lips together, the lips that were still bruised from taking him last night, and she shook her head.
He couldn’t help himself. He had to know her thoughts. “What were you going to say?”
“Not against his will. I won’t do it if it’s against his will.”
Sam bent his mouth to hers and kissed her, savouring the taste of her. Not too many minutes ago Micah had done the same thing and he smiled against her lips at the thought of reclaiming what the angel thought he had won. Turning around, he sat her down on the bed and bent over her, still kissing, twining his tongue with hers, lips and teeth stirring the current rising between them. She had to lean on her hands to keep from falling and she was his, trapped, at his mercy. He just had to keep reminding her of the fact.
Sam sank to one knee and ran his hands up the length of her thighs as he broke the kiss. She gazed at him, startled, shell-shocked, beautiful.
“Not against his will,” he agreed, keeping his voice low and intimate. “But it won’t be, sweetheart. You’ll see. He’ll want it as much as you and I. You saw him last night, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but—” Her eyes darted up, widened, and Sam could guess what she was seeing. Ever so slowly, as if it were the most unimportant thing in the world for him, he glanced over his shoulder to see Micah in t
he doorway holding a small bundle of clothes. Sam shot Lily an encouraging smile as he got up and faced Micah’s grim face. Not so giving now.
“Clothes,” he growled.
“Thanks.” Sam sauntered towards him, unashamed and undeterred. “My colours too.” He took them from the angel who quickly snatched back his hand. “You know, Mike, you weren’t so coy last night.”
“Last night, Sammael, we acted to save your sanity, and this city from having you unleashed on it like that time in Budapest.”
Sam blinked, trying to remember a time in Budapest. True, much of the fifteenth century was a blur, but he didn’t recall Budapest as being any worse than—images flickered through the back of his mind, like watching a light box, and some of his self-assurance bled away. He gazed into Micah’s face, searching it for more, but the angel might as well have been made from stone.
No, despite his assurances to Lily, this was not going to be easy. Not at all.
The cop driving the sedan didn’t look too thrilled about having all three of them crowd into the back but, quite frankly, Micah didn’t care. He had no intention of either letting her sit alone in the front, or of leaving her in the back with Sammael. And from the look on his face, Sammael was thinking precisely the same thing. Lily squirmed between them and their driver eyed them suspiciously in the rear-view mirror. As they travelled through the lunchtime traffic, the car weaving between lanes, Micah tried to ignore the press of her thigh against his, and the way her breath increased and her skin flushed. When he did look her way, he noticed Sammael’s hand stealing between her knees.
“Stop it.”
Sam just gave a snort and sat back, his hand stroking her lower arm instead. Lily closed her eyes and edged a little nearer to Micah. For that at least, he was grateful. But Sam’s power was strong, so strong that Micah knew it was affecting him as well.
Sam sat on the other side, immaculately dressed despite the rush in black denim and a charcoal silk shirt, open at the collar. His colours indeed, flattering his olive-toned skin and dark hair, even though Micah had just reached blindly into the wardrobe and grabbed the first thing that came to hand.
Edge of Heaven Page 13
