by Anne Marsh
“I’m going to make you say it, baby.” His sensual warning made her wetter. He leaned back in the chair, the powerful muscles in his arms flexing as he settled her more firmly into place, wrapping one arm around her waist.
“Maybe,” she teased, sliding her hand between them. Unbuttoning his pants was the work of a moment, and then she was wrapping her hand around the impossible girth of him. Long and hard, his cock was a delicious weight in her hand. Fascinated, she slid her hand up and down the satiny, heated length, rubbing her thumb over the engorged head.
“Tease me, baby,” he growled, “and I’ll make sure you keep every promise you make.” His hand on her waist tightened, his face twisting with pleasure. So she leaned forward, deliberately fisting him.
“I want you.” He was impossibly hot and large, his flesh straining against the hand she’d wrapped around him. All that golden, heated skin so near was a tease she couldn’t resist, so she settled against his chest, using her tongue to trace a sensual pattern down his chest. When she tongued a nipple still covered by the soft cotton of his shirt, a harsh growl tore from his throat.
“Be sure,” he warned. “I’ve tried to keep you safe, baby. You didn’t know what you were getting into when you entered my world. I’ve held back, before.” His free hand stroked a path up her arm. “I don’t know how this will end. You need to tell me you’re good with that.”
His fingers flicked at her nipples. Her eyes watching those diabolical fingers, she stared at him. “I want you.” Resting her hands on his chest, she looked him in the eye. He wanted truth, so she’d give him truth. “I want this. Whatever happens, Zer, I want this for us. I want us to try. You’d never hurt me. I know that.”
“Be very, very sure. Sure enough for both of us.” That wicked hand now rested over her heart. “Because I can’t be, baby. I want to keep you safe. I want to hold you here, forever.”
But he couldn’t. No one could. Outside this room, there was a storm waiting to break. Somehow, together, they had to find a way to stop what was happening. And, if they couldn’t stop it, she wanted these memories, for however long they lasted.
The expression on his face was fierce, protective. “I would do anything to keep you safe,” he vowed.
“Then let me do the same for you,” she whispered. “Let me keep you safe, Zer. Let me help, if I can.”
An expression of near pain crossed his beautiful, dark face, and then that hand was moving again, exposing all of her to his gaze. “You win, baby. You want to give me what I want to take, I’ll take it. I’ll take you.”
All primitive, hard warrior, he filled her office, filled her world, until there was room for nothing and no one but him. He was the answer to every secret fantasy she’d had at night, alone. His words plucked a raw chord hidden deep inside her. His gaze on her bared breasts burned through her, and she reveled in the exposure.
“You’re beautiful,” he promised, his voice reverent. She felt beautiful. His eyes glowed with heat. But his hands. Those big, rough hands were strangely gentle. Petting the soft skin he’d exposed as if she was something—someone—rare and precious. As if she was the very center of his world, too.
His hands cupped her breasts, the calloused fingers stroking the bare skin softly.
“Undress for me.” She wanted to see as well as touch him. Wanted as much of him as she could have. She was shaking with the pleasure he was giving her.
“No,” he said, and she whimpered. “Not here, baby. It’s not safe. I need to be able to protect you.”
“Then take this off at least.” Her hands tugged at his T-shirt, and he let her pull the material over his head. The feeling of being naked while he was dressed, her bare skin brushing his, filled her with incredible pleasure, but she wanted to be closer still. Skin to skin. “Please undress for me,” she begged, but he shook his head. “Why not?”
“Because,” he said gruffly, “when I need to fight, I’m not doing it bare-ass naked.”
She’d have to make do. Get a little creative. She could do that, couldn’t she? Pushing him farther back in the chair, she slid down his body. His powerful arms tensed, sliding away from her waist to grip the chair.
She smiled slowly. He was so hers. All hers. “You want me to do this, don’t you? Want me to taste you?”
“Yeah, baby,” he growled hoarsely. His hands came up to fist gently in her hair, guiding her down. “I want to watch you, too.”
Teasingly, she lowered her head, letting her hair brush against his straining erection. Her reward was another husky groan, his sensitive flesh jerking toward her. Arousal pounded through her body, thick, heated jolts of pleasure. She’d never been so hungry for him. Knowing that this might be the last time she held him. Had him.
“You’re killing me,” he murmured, his eyes half-closed. “This is not a good idea.” Unmistakable tension filled his large body, had him riveted to the edge of the chair. He wasn’t in charge here—not anymore. She was, and, God, it was every erotic fantasy come to life.
Bending down, she took the thick, hard jut of his cock into her hand. Delicately scraping her nails down the smooth shaft, she licked a decadent path up his straining flesh, tasting the musky salt of him on her tongue. “I want you,” she whispered against his flesh. “I’m going to have you just like this. I don’t care who or what comes through that door—right now, you’re all mine.” Just mine.
His answer was a husky groan that shot straight to her core.
“I’m going to kiss you,” she promised, looking up into his eyes. “And I’m going to watch you, every step of the way. Every touch.” She paused, sliding her hands around to cup his balls. “I want to feel close to you.”
She wasn’t closing her eyes. Not this time. She was desperate for every inch of him. She wanted—needed—to see what the raw intimacy of this kiss did to him. For him. There was every chance that they were all out of tomorrows. If this was the last chance she had to touch him, she wasn’t going to miss a single second.
Gently, she sucked on the firm head, tracing the damp slit with her tongue. If she turned her head, she could rest her cheek on well-worn leather and the hot, smooth flesh of his thigh. Cupping his balls with one palm, she slid her other hand around the base of his shaft, guiding him into her mouth.
The large head of his cock filled her mouth. She fisted him as she pulled him in deeper. Palming what wouldn’t fit. The raw intimacy of the soft, sucking sounds and the glide of her palm over his wet flesh wrapped the two of them in an intimate world of their own. His hands tangled in her hair, guiding her into an intensely personal rhythm even as his ragged groan of pleasure drove her crazy, the wet ache building deep inside her.
His big hands closed gently in her hair as he slid slowly in and out of her mouth, her gaze watching the thick, wet shaft.
Let go, she whispered through their bond. She opened up, letting down all the mental barriers, letting him feel her arousal, her feelings through their bond. She could feel his pleasure, the hot sensations tearing through him, and she sucked harder, pulling him deeply into her.
His mate’s wicked mouth was killing him with the hot, wet pleasure of her touch. Arching his back, he drove himself deep into that willing mouth, losing himself in the emotions sweeping through their bond. As she tasted him, drew him deep into a sensual maelstrom, he could hear the sexy little sounds of her pleasure. The fiery burst of sensation made him grit his teeth, as she raked his aching cock with her tongue.
He’d done this before, but never had the act felt so intimate. He’d never felt so connected. The sensations tearing through him were white-hot in their intensity, a liquid burn that threatened his control. God, he had to touch her. Know her.
Before he could come, he pulled away from the wicked heat of her mouth. He wanted to be buried deep inside her when he came. Ignoring her whimper of protest, he tugged her upward. “Your turn, baby,” he whispered hoarsely. “Now, I’m seeing to you. Time for you to come and come hard.”
Flipping her onto her back, he was on fire for her. She arched into him, her hands sliding over his shoulders, down his back. Pleasure for pleasure as he parted her legs and crashed against her.
“Zer,” she moaned, as he nipped at the sexy curve of her ear.
She was his, and she was killing him. He couldn’t think about the battle. Couldn’t look beyond this moment, this woman in his arms. This wasn’t a weapon—she wasn’t a weapon. There was only her and him and this pleasure growing between them.
Dipping his head, he kissed her. The brush of his cock against her sweet opening almost had him coming on the spot.
Fuck. He had to keep it together. Had to make this good for her.
“I’m going to take you, baby.” Had to. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, stop. Not now.
Sheltering her with his body—just in case, his rogue side whispered—he slid into her, hard and fast. Filling her. Beneath him, she cried out in pleasure, arching her body up into his.
“You feel so good.” He lowered his head, burying his face against her neck. “So damn good, Nessa.”
“More,” she pleaded, arching up against him. “I need more.”
She wanted more; he gave her more. It was that simple. He set a hard, fast pace, moving in and out of her with smooth strokes. Lifting his head to watch her. Watch the pleasure overwhelm her as he moved deep inside her. God, this was something more.
You couldn’t ever know a person, not completely. But you could love someone with every fiber of your being.
Hell, he didn’t know himself.
Still, he knew one thing. “I love you,” he growled against the damp skin of her neck. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her closer. Driving in and out. The sweet, tight friction of her flesh wrapping around his, holding him close, was sending him right over the edge. And she gave, her sweet flesh parting, taking him in completely. He couldn’t control it anymore; the room filled with the raw, intimate sound of flesh on flesh and her breathy moans.
He’d have crawled right inside her if he could have. Curled up inside her soul.
“Oh, my God, Zer,” she panted, her hands flexing, her nails driving into the flesh of his shoulders. He reveled in each small, possessive prick. He belonged to her. He was hers.
“Nessa ...” he whispered.
His hands were pulling her closer, closer. No him. No her. He’d lost both himself and her in the impossible pleasure. When he came, his roar of pleasure almost—but not quite—drowned out her own long, low moan of ecstasy as she went to pieces around him, her pussy sucking on his cock in short, hard quivers.
Panting, breathless, he buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent, as he poured himself into her.
Her hand came up, stroking over the nape of his neck. “I love you.” Damned if her words didn’t rock him right to the bottom of his lost soul. Before he could figure out what to say, she pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around him. “I love you, Zer.”
Opening his eyes, he stared down into her wide-open eyes and her wide-open soul. Christ, she was giving it all to him. Everything she was—right there on display for him.
And then the indescribable pain hit him.
The skin of his back split wide open, as if someone was peeling the muscles from his bones one by one. His mind blacked out for a blissful moment, and then the pain hit him like a semitruck barreling down the highway his body had become.
Beneath him, Nessa tensed. “You okay?”
He rolled off her, onto his side, onto the floor, with a groan. He figured okay was the overstatement of the year.
He wasn’t. Something impossible was happening here, and he was helpless to stop it.
His lips peeled back with the pain and rage of it all. He didn’t do helpless. Ever. And yet here he was, laid out on the floor, completely incapacitated.
Another liquid bolt of agony jolted through his body, and he panted his way through it. When he fought free of the fog slowly squeezing him, Nessa’s hand was stroking his shoulder.
Wrapping a hand around her wrist, he pulled her back down to him. Sudden knowledge roared through him. The Change. The real Change.
God, he was Changing. For the first time in millennia, his words were pure prayer.
She hesitated, clearly worried. “You okay, Zer?” She didn’t have to add that he looked bad.
“Yeah,” he groaned, breathing through another gut-wrenching contraction that had his spine bowing. “We’re just getting what we wished for.”
“No!” Her gaze shot to his back, horrified, and he knew it looked bad. “You didn’t tell me it was going to hurt.”
With one last, agonizing push, the wings tore through the skin of his back, slowly unfurling. He hadn’t realized how empty he’d felt until now, when he was overflowing.
He wanted her to stay.
Unfamiliar joy hummed through her veins. He really did love her. After all, he’d said the words—and she’d said them back, hadn’t she? And she’d meant them. Telling Zer exactly how she felt—well, that had felt right. They were no poets; she figured that theirs had to have been one of the briefest declarations of love in M City’s history. Still, warmth flooded through her.
He was spectacular. His new wings were flexible, pure muscle where the base of them connected to his body—and a fifteen-foot wingspan to lift his two-hundred-plus-pound frame from the ground. He shuddered and stretched, expanding the dark wings as he sat up, running a hand along her arm.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded. She wasn’t the one who’d just, for all intents and purposes, birthed a pair of enormous wings. She had a pretty good idea, too, of just how painful that process had been.
“May I touch them? Your wings?” She had to know what they felt like.
He eyed her cautiously. “You go right ahead.”
Before he could change his mind, she stretched out a hand. The tip of the wing closest to her was firm and light. Birds, she knew, had strong, light bones, hollowed out by millennia of evolution to give their owners every advantage in the air. Like a bird of prey, he’d be a powerful flyer. Those wings would push him through the air with hard, brutal strokes. Not intended for a lazy, slow glide, she thought, but for the short, hard bursts of speed necessary for taking down prey.
And for the sheer brute power required for flight.
Running her hands over the soft surface, she cataloged what her senses reported. The central section had three bones, with two in the lower section to fuel the powerful downward thrust of those wings when he lifted his body upward into the sky. Evolution or divine planning had designed his wings for maneuvering quickly and taking off rapidly. They were, she realized, exactly like the wings of a raptor.
That description fit. Zer had the wings—and the heart—of a predator. Even now, as he shoved himself off the floor and came toward her, his every move was fast and sure. He didn’t hesitate, just laid in his course and stuck to it. Behind him, his wings gleamed blackly, the midnight inkiness of the feathers on the outer edges blending with the gathering shadows in the room. No, those wings weren’t built for lazy, graceful flight but for speed.
“What did we do?” she murmured. Because this had taken both of them. Together.
And something had been different this time.
He extended a hand to her, but she couldn’t take her eyes off those wings covered with deceptively soft feathers. Stroking her fingers over them, she savored the softness that was such a stark contrast to the male himself. The wings were all satiny weightlessness where he was hard, heavy, dark. Savage.
He didn’t hesitate, the words he gave her as brutally direct as the man. “I love you,” he repeated. “Those words changed things. Changed me.”
She wanted something, but she wasn’t sure what that something was. He wasn’t the only one who had changed. She wanted to pull him back into her arms, savor the unexpected closeness.
“You think that’s all it takes?” Because she’d loved him before he’d stepped into her
office today, and there had been no wings.
He shook his head. “We have to talk about this now?”
She wasn’t naïve. She understood what Cuthah was capable of. But now might be the only time they had left. “I want to understand,” she said.
“Christ, Nessa.” His big hand cupped her jaw, turning her face toward his as he drank in the sight of her. Resting his forehead against hers. Impossibly close. “It’s about not holding anything back, okay? You know me. You’ve seen parts of me, parts that shouldn’t see the light of day, let alone someone like you.”
“Someone like me? I love you, Zer.” She wasn’t ashamed to admit she loved him. He might be dark, but he was still a male of worth. A fighter. Her warrior. He’d made hard choices, and he’d kept on fighting. He wasn’t a consolation prize, wasn’t a dirty little secret she needed to hide away from the rest of the world.
“I love you, too,” he said roughly. “You’re part of me, body and soul, Nessa. And I wish—” He hesitated, then kept right on going. “I wish all my brothers had found their soul mates. Because, what we have ... it’s more than the wings. What we have, it’s me and you and ...” His voice trailed off. “I’m no poet. You’re the heart of it all. The heart of me. And that,” he said forcefully, “is why I have my wings back and we’re even having this goddamn conversation.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Keros was on the headset again, barking out a 411 Zer didn’t want to hear. Diversion time was over, and Cuthah was headed back. He’d chased Nael and Vkhin halfway around the building, but there were only so many things his brothers could blow up before they brought the entire goddamn building down. They’d bought him the time he needed, though. That was all that mattered.
Zer ran a quick mental check of the new arsenal he was packing: wings. Holy shit and then some. He didn’t know if regaining his wings would give him the tactical advantage he needed against Cuthah, but he’d take any weapon fate handed him. Except they were more than just a weapon, weren’t they? He couldn’t shake the memory of Nessa sliding her fingers through his wings. And the sensation was more than purely sensual recall. Sweet and intimate, it was the kind of feeling that made a male forget he was about to head into battle.
