by Lexi C. Foss
Leela grabbed his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. “Now.”
“Not yet.” He kissed her softly, rocking his erection against her at just the right angle to please without allowing her to tip over into ecstasy. Her heels dug into his ass, encouraging him to move, but he maintained control. His tongue dipped inside to duel with hers, and oh, did she know how to indulge a man. Even in her half-blissed state, she still managed to seduce him with her clever mouth. He rewarded her by finding her entrance and thrusting inside once, twice, then pulled out of her again.
“Balthazar!” Her nails scraped down his back, drawing blood. “Fuck me.”
“I intend to,” he murmured, his mouth already traveling downward. “With my tongue.”
She moaned, her hips flexing upward against his hands as he caught her and forced her back down. “Harder,” she demanded.
He tightened his grip on her hip bones, enough to bruise, yet his little minx sighed contentedly.
Pain. Most immortals required it in some variation, and he definitely knew how to provide it. But first… His tongue met her slick folds, licking her deep and savoring the taste of her. So. Fucking. Good. He devoured her in his next pass, already addicted to the feel of her against his mouth and the little sounds of approval she made in response.
Shit, who is seducing whom here? His balls tightened in excitement, his cock throbbing for release.
Delicious.
Addicting.
Mine.
He stopped thinking and consumed her, allowing all his experience and knowledge to drive his instincts, and bathed in her resulting moans. His fingers joined the fun, his teeth nibbling her clit, as her body unraveled beneath his expert touch.
She screamed his name, but it wasn’t good enough. He didn’t stop, simply continued his assault, while her body trembled and vibrated beneath his mouth. Electricity sizzled between them, her hands on his head, urging him never to stop, her body beading with sweat—fuck, he’d never seen anything like it.
A goddess.
Such perfection.
Her lips parted on another moan, her eyes closing, her very essence flickering in and out of existence before him, but he could still taste her, could still feel her.
A Seraphim in the throes of passion was a sight to behold. He swore there were wings. Purple and black feathers, visible and then gone in an instant. Actual fire—blue fire—surrounding her, but not burning him. And onward she fell, his name a benediction in the air as she completely shattered.
Two orgasms? Three? He lost count, didn’t care, not with the magnificent sight of her casting a permanent spell over him. His jaw actually ached, something that had not happened to him in several thousand years, and he welcomed the change. The new experience. Her.
He’d been living all these centuries thinking pleasure and sex were all that mattered. But this moment changed him irrevocably. Balthazar couldn’t identify the source, or how he knew, yet he felt sure of it. His soul had finally found peace, and it existed in this female.
He released her, startled. But she pulled him back to her, only upward to her mouth, where she licked her pleasure from his lips and mouth, and wrapped her legs around his hips again. This time he didn’t fight her and slid into her weeping entrance, his cock thrusting deep without consideration of what this all meant. No hesitation. Just feeling. Sensation. Indulgence.
“Amazing,” he whispered in between her demanding kisses. “Fucking amazing.”
He let go. Stopped worrying. Just enjoyed and yielded to his needs. It was intoxicating, dangerous, and so damn good. They came together, her moans mingling with his, their bodies slick with sweat. His forehead met hers, his breathing rapid, her chest heaving, and still he craved more.
“Again,” she demanded. “It shouldn’t be possible, but again.”
“Yes.” He lifted her, his direction the bedroom. “All night.”
“And morning.”
“All weekend.”
Leela nodded, her lips brushing his as she gulped in air. “Take me, B.”
He lowered her onto his bed, their bodies still joined. “With pleasure, love.”
6
Leela
Sunlight streamed through the windows, stirring Leela to consciousness. She stretched her legs and flinched at the ache between her thighs.
I’m sore. She blinked. I’m never sore.
A glance at the clock displayed the late afternoon hour, and another look around the room confirmed she was alone. Her brow furrowed. Balthazar didn’t seem the type to leave his lovers unattended in bed.
She slipped out of the sheets, found one of his button-down shirts, and slid it on without bothering with the buttons. It hit her mid-thigh and carried a woodsy scent that was all Balthazar. Her sex pulsed at the thought, craving him again already.
How many times had they fucked through the night? She’d lost count after five, or was it six? Who cares? The male possessed inhuman stamina, and his skill… wow. Leela didn’t have words to describe it. She’d never experienced anyone in her long existence who could evoke such pleasure from her. And he never stopped.
Her body tingled as she walked, her hard nipples chaffing against the fabric of Balthazar’s shirt, her body humming with need. She was the one who descended from the sexual line, not him. Yet, it felt a hell of a lot like he’d woven a spell over her and not the other way around.
Leela found her lover in the kitchen—naked—flipping a pancake.
She popped her hip against the entryway, folded an arm across her stomach, and raised her opposite hand to her mouth, where she gently bit her finger to keep from speaking. No sense in disturbing the chef, especially with him so focused on the task.
Such a fine ass. Perfectly sculpted, athletic, and oh-so touchable. It flexed as he moved, his strong thighs moving too, and all that sinewy muscle danced along his back. Oh, yes. She approved of this male specimen.
He grabbed a plate, granting her a nice side view of his impressive package. Heavy, hot, and fucking irresistible. Paintings had been created in honor of his physique, murals to the gods, statues erected in his memory. None of them did him an ounce of justice.
“Enjoying the show, Lee?” he asked softly without looking at her.
“Yes.”
He chuckled and continued assembling the dish. Fresh fruit, some sort of cream, syrup, and fluffy pancakes. She smiled. “That looks amazing.”
“Sit.” He nodded toward the counter beside him, not the dining table. Considering what happened there last night, she readily complied, hopping up with her legs dangling over the side. His chocolate gaze took in her attire, his lips curling. “That looks good on you.”
“I know.” She pulled her hair over to one side and leaned back on her hands. “Naked looks fantastic on you.”
“I know,” he replied, repeating her words with a wink. He added some finishing touches to the breakfast platters and set one beside her. “Don’t touch that.”
She arched a brow at him. “An order?”
“Yes.” Balthazar went to the fridge, pulled out a bottle of champagne and a crystal pitcher of what appeared to be freshly squeezed orange juice. A quick study of the kitchen showed a used juicer near the sink, confirming her assumption. He plucked two flutes from the cupboard, handed them to her, and popped open the bottle.
“Mimosas.” She approved. “Where did the glasses come from?” Because she was sure the hotel—although nice—didn’t come equipped with all of these fixtures.
“Jacque,” he replied.
The Hydraian teleporter. Made sense.
He finished assembling their drinks, then took one of them from her and clinked the glasses together. “Cheers, Lee.”
“Cheers,” she murmured before sipping the bubbly fruit. “Wow, this is good.”
He smirked, taking a swallow of his own. His sensual gaze simmered with intent as he traded his mimosa for the plate. The stacked pancakes had her mouth watering for a taste that he only intensifie
d by slowly slicing off a bite with a fork. “Open.”
She parted her lips, ready. He slipped the metal prongs into her mouth, and her senses exploded with flavor. Berries, maple syrup, vanilla, chocolate chips, and, of course, pancake.
Leela savored every delectable ingredient, her eyes closing on a moan. Oh, sweet lover.
Another bite followed, her tongue rejoicing at the contact as she chewed and swallowed. “Seduction by food,” she whispered. “I approve.”
“Whole package,” he said, repeating his words from the night before. “And more.”
“Yeah?” She opened her eyes to find his gaze on her mouth. “What’s more?”
He merely smiled and fed her another piece of the pancake. Ambrosia—food of the gods. Somehow Balthazar had perfected it, and dear heaven, it was amazing. Leela always loved pancakes. She only told him she preferred waffles yesterday because she knew it would provoke him—the breakfast debate in Hydria was a frequent one.
His thumb brushed her lower lip. “Such a beautiful mouth.”
Her pulse kick-started, thrumming energy through her veins and heating her lower abdomen. She should not be this turned on, not after everything they’d done to each other. The male held a persuasive pull over her unlike any other. She’d expected it to be good between them, but this… this she couldn’t define.
He smiled. “Want more?”
“Yes.”
He brought another bite to her mouth, which wasn’t what she had in mind, but she accepted it anyway. Then he set the fork aside and placed his hands on the counter on either side of her hips. “Waffles or pancakes?”
Her lips twitched. “I thought you had moved on to a new challenge.”
“I have, but my competitive side has to know so I can relay the verdict back to Luc.”
She chuckled to herself. Immortality was a strange beast. Some chose to lose their humanity, most slept eternally from boredom, and yet these Elders, as they were called, chose to indulge in humorous games over breakfast foods. No wonder they all still smiled. They truly enjoyed being among the living. Her Seraphim brethren could learn a thing or two from them.
“Well?” he prompted, a single eyebrow arched.
What now? Did she tell him that she’d lied originally or allow him to think she changed her mind? “Your pancakes are phenomenal,” she said slowly, drawing it out while she considered. “I think you could convert me into a pancake lover.”
“Think?” he repeated. “Have I not proven the versatility pancakes allow? Because you can’t stack a waffle nearly as successfully, despite how hard Luc tries. It’s not the same.”
“I wouldn’t know, as I’ve not tried his version, but yours is delicious.” And she couldn’t believe this was what he chose to talk about with his hard cock so close to her sex. She grabbed his biceps and ran her palms up to his shoulders and then to his neck. “If I tell you I now prefer pancakes, can we make breakfast more interesting by eating it off each other?”
His eyes twinkled. “Oh, Lee, you truly are a Seraphim after my own heart.”
She started to grin, then his words registered.
Seraphim.
Wait…
“Do you always go into an ethereal state when you orgasm, or was that something I caused?” he asked, his expression curious.
She swallowed—or tried to, anyway. Her throat reminded her of a giant boulder, refusing to budge. He knows. What now? Oh, Vera, of course. Chills skated down her spine at the verdict. What sounded so simple yesterday suddenly didn’t feel all that easy. One phone call, a mind wipe, and he’d forever remain in ignorance. While she would remember the best night of her very long existence.
No. She couldn’t think that way. This wasn’t about her but about the fate of the future. Any alterations from this path could lead to catastrophic results.
But what if he could help? some small part of her wondered.
With what? the practical Seraphim in her replied. Telling Stas her fate and ruining everything?
“You clearly know who we are,” he continued when she didn’t speak. “I’ve mentioned Jacque and Luc today, and you didn’t react at all. You even knew my challenge was about waffles and pancakes, yet I’d never expressly stated it. And you’ve claimed to know me from the beginning.”
The heat of his body seeped into hers as he drew closer, his hands going to her hips to slide her to the edge of the counter, his cock flush against her sex. She shivered at the contact even while her heart hammered in her chest.
This had to end.
She knew that going into it; she just hadn’t expected to second-guess the decision.
One of his palms slid to her lower back while the other ventured up her side, grazing her breast and ending at her neck, where he wrapped his palm around her nape. She arched into him, luxuriating in the serenity of his control. Never had her body responded to someone this strongly.
Not a good enough reason to ignore fate…
Fine, but one more day wouldn’t kill anyone, right? She could tell him what he wanted to know since Vera had to erase his thoughts anyway. Might as well enjoy a few more hours, get whatever compulsion this was out of her system, and move on. Balthazar would be none the wiser, leaving her to bear their memories alone.
I can live with that, she thought. It’s only sex. Really fantastic, mind-blowing sex, but she existed in a world of pleasure.
“Leela,” he murmured, squeezing her neck. “I might not be able to read your mind, but I can sense your conflict. Talk to me.” He ran his nose along her cheek, and just that small touch felt so, so good. She could mist out of his reach, put some much-needed space between them, but she didn’t want to.
Right and wrong were two fickle sides separated by a thin layer of uncertainty. Leela existed in that layer.
“You’re not supposed to know,” she admitted. “You weren’t supposed to know.”
“Maybe not, but I do.” He laid kisses along her jaw, so sensual and smooth. She melted into him, unable to ignore his seductive touch. Her hands caressed his muscular back, memorizing the feel beneath her fingertips. This feeling inside, so foreign, urged her to keep him. He barely knew her. She only knew what she’d observed of him. Granted, those observations told her almost everything about him, and last night, well, it left nothing to the imagination.
Still, he didn’t know her.
I could change that.
For a price.
But perhaps it’s worth it?
There was only one way to know.
She licked her lips. “All right.” She’d tell him a little and see how he reacted, and go from there. “I am a Seraphim, and I told you the truth about where I’m from.”
“The South Pacific.”
“Yes. A cluster of islands humankind will never discover, thanks to powerful runes—”
“Like the one on your hip.”
She scoffed at that. “No, they are far more powerful than that little thing. I etched it into my skin centuries ago with angelfire. Very simple.”
“Angelfire,” he repeated, his voice low and hypnotic. “Never heard of it.”
Her lips curled. “No, I suppose not.”
His palm moved in soothing circles against her back while his other remained around her neck, his thumb massaging a tender spot below her ear. The man truly knew how to play a woman’s body with the subtlest of touches. She wanted to rest her head against his bare chest and close her eyes.
“So there are more of you?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, slightly drowsy from his intoxicating touch. “Many more.”
“And you’re not all stoic.” Not a question.
“The High Council believes emotion is irrelevant, and they pity those like me who have a gift tied to humanity. Pleasure, in their opinion, is a waste of energy.” She sighed, giving in to the impulse to fully relax against him, her forehead hitting his sternum. “It’s complicated.”
“Do they all know about us?”
She nodded.
“The abominations are well known.”
“Abominations?”
“The Seraphim of Resurrection created you all against the rules, hence the term assigned by the High Council. It’s a bit harsh, I know.” She pulled back to meet his chocolate eyes as she playfully added, “I prefer to call you all wannabe immortals.”
He arched a brow. “Wannabe immortals?”
“You can die. I cannot. Therefore, it is appropriate.”
“Ouch.” He didn’t appear all that wounded, not with the amusement radiating off him. “So the Seraphim are watching us and know all about our lives? Like the waffles and pancakes debate?”
She snorted. “Hardly. Your lives would bore them.”
“Yet, you know all about us… ?”
Yeah, that. Leela had already said far too much, but it felt good to be honest with him. Even if she would have to wipe his memory later. Her heart pinched at the thought, while her mind rumbled its approval. The practical way.
“I’m not a normal Seraphim,” she said by way of explanation. “And I think my gifts suit with your natural strengths.”
His gaze heated. “You sought me out.”
She considered reminding him that he sat beside her, but this provided a reasonable distraction. Leela would much rather spend their limited time together in the throes of passion, not discussing the complexities of their worlds. Her lips curled as she engaged their new game. No, she hadn’t sought him out, but she didn’t regret Ezekiel sending her here either.
“Are you disappointed?” she asked, purposely not answering his accusation.
“Hardly.” The hand at her back flattened, his cock pulsing between her legs. “Still hungry?”
“Depends. Are you taking me up on the offer to make breakfast more interesting?”
Mirth taunted the edges of his mouth. “The maple syrup is still warm.”
“Is it?”
“Hmm, yes.” His hands went to the shirt covering her torso to gently slide it apart to reveal her breasts. “I haven’t eaten yet, Leela. And it’s such a shame with all the delicious toppings lying around. Cream, berries, chocolate sauce…”
