by Lara Adrian
Her flush deepened. Embarrassment or anticipation?
Perhaps a combination of the two.
“I told you I was healed,” she breathed.
He lightly traced the diminishing scars, his gut twisting at the vivid memory of watching her collapse onto the hard stone, the blood dripping onto her white wings.
He had a feeling that particular image would be haunting him for several decades to come.
“I know, but you scared the shit out of me,” he admitted in harsh tones. “I thought you were going to die.”
An elusive emotion tightened her fragile features. “You stayed to save me.”
He frowned. Why did she sound surprised?
“Did you expect me to abandon you when you were injured?”
“You were here to find your Sovereign,” she pointed out. “Now he’s gone.”
“I’ll find him,” Jian muttered, his tone distracted as his hand continued downward to cup the soft mound of her breast. “But nothing was more important than healing you.”
Her rosy nipple hardened as a shiver of pleasure raced through her body. But he sensed that the shock on her face had nothing to do with her instant arousal.
“Jian.”
“Astonishing, isn’t it?” he questioned in wry tones. A part of him found it highly ironic that such a wicked demon would succumb to destiny in the arms of an angel. “How did you so easily bewitch me?”
She blinked. Then blinked again. “I have no magic.”
“Lie.” He lowered his head to gently brush his mouth over hers, savoring the soft temptation of her lips. “I am completely bespelled.”
She stirred restlessly beneath him, but she made no effort to push him away.
“No doubt you’re bespelled by a female on a nightly basis,” she muttered.
“Never.” He lifted his head to regard her with a somber expression. He didn’t want any confusion. This was too important. “Only you.”
Her tongue peeked out to dampen her dry lips. “You can’t be certain.”
“I’m certain enough that I should be—” He broke off with a sharp laugh.
“What?” she prompted.
“Angry. Terrified,” he replied with blunt honesty. “Running away in horror.”
In a heartbeat she went from enchantingly wary to visibly annoyed by his response.
“Nice.”
He stroked the tip of her nipple with his thumb. He wasn’t entirely teasing her.
Like any Incubus, he’d secretly wondered what it would be like to be mated. To find the other half of his soul that would fulfill all his needs. And at the same time, he’d been horrified by the mere thought of being tied to one woman for the rest of eternity.
Surely it would feel as if he was being smothered?
Instead he felt…exhilarated.
Almost drunk on the sensations that bubbled through his blood like the finest nectar.
And the fact that she was an angel only intensified his smug pleasure.
Who knew fate could be so generous to give him a mate who was so gloriously perfect?
“Now all I can think about is how quickly I can get you to my home,” he admitted in a rough voice.
The sweet scent of orchids saturated the air, assuring him that she wasn’t opposed to the thought of being whisked off to his private lair.
Of course, she wasn’t going to admit to her desire.
He’d already discovered that this angel was terrified of revealing any hint of vulnerability.
“That’s impossible,” she breathed, lifting her hands to press against his chest.
He studied the pale face that would forever be etched on his heart.
“Why?”
She frowned, as if baffled by his question. “Do you want a list?”
His hand moved from the soft temptation to the feathers that shimmered with a brilliant white glow in the torchlight.
“Give me the top three,” he insisted, his lips twitching as she violently shivered as he found that sensitive spot at the very top of her wings.
“I’m an angel,” she managed to choke out, a delectable color staining the perfect ivory of her face.
“Are you a snob?” He traced the graceful curve of the wing. Who knew that the sensation of feathers beneath his fingers could make an Incubus threaten to self-combust? “Do you think angels are too good to be with a mere demon?”
She sucked in a shaky breath, her lips parted in helpless desire.
A dull, aching throb settled at the base of his fully erect cock in reaction, his hunger for this female a seemingly bottomless need.
“Obviously not.”
“Ah.” He pressed his thigh between her legs, his arousal twitching at the feel of her warm pussy growing wet with need. “Then it’s just mating an Incubus that troubles you?”
She made a strangled sound. “Mate?”
He rubbed his thigh against her swollen clit, his gaze fastened onto her flushed face.
God, she was beautiful.
“Tell me number two,” he urged.
Her nails dug into his chest as she struggled to speak. “I’m the Mistress of the Oubliette.”
Jian grimaced. “Yes, a far more dangerous obstacle,” he grudgingly admitted. “Are you bound to this place?”
“Not physically,” she said, her lashes lowering to hide her eyes. “But it’s my duty.”
He made a sound of disgust. He’d heard the Sovereign claim that those in charge of this hellhole had given him permission to destroy this exquisite female.
Whenever he discovered who they were and how he could get his hands on them, he intended to tear them into tiny shreds. Just as he was going to destroy his treacherous leader.
“A duty given to you by people who would willingly sacrifice you,” he growled.
She flinched, as if he’d managed to strike a blow. “We don’t know that for certain. You’ve admitted you don’t trust your Sovereign,” she pointed out. “He could be lying.”
Jian scowled, sensing that the potential betrayal had wounded her more deeply than the bullets that had ripped through her chest.
Why? As far as he knew the Warden was chosen by a random lottery, switching from demon to angel every century to ensure that neither species managed to gain too much control over this powerful purgatory.
So why did he feel such deep sorrow through the delicate threads that were already beginning to bind them together?
Studying the brittle expression on her fragile features, Jian reluctantly accepted that this wasn’t the time to press for an answer.
Instead, he returned his attention to her supposed reasons for refusing to travel to his home.
“Tell me number three,” he demanded.
Her eyes abruptly narrowed, the heartbreaking look of loss thankfully being chased away by a flare of unmistakable jealousy.
“I won’t become a part of any man’s harem.”
Jian slowly smiled, delighting in the surge of annoyance that filled the air with the scent of scorched orchids.
This was his beautiful angel.
Proud. Strong. Capable of taking on even the most arrogant Incubus.
His fingers smoothed down the snowy feathers, his leg pressing tight against her increasingly slick clit.
“Not even a harem of one?”
“One?” She gave a hesitant shake of her head. “I thought that Incubi never have sex with the same female.”
“They do after they’ve mated.”
“I can’t believe you’re serious.”
“I’ve never been more serious.” He wouldn’t tease about something so important, even if he did enjoy the flash of jealousy in the indigo eyes when she spoke of his harem. “Not ever.”
“This is madness,” she muttered.
“Yes.” He lowered his head, nuzzling a path of kisses over her cheek to the corner of her mouth. “But it’s too late to hope for sanity.”
“Jian…”
Her words were lost in a breathy si
gh as Jian rolled on top of her, deepening his kiss as she instinctively spread her legs.
“My sweet angel,” he husked, using the tip of his tongue to outline the lush curve of her lips.
He groaned.
She tasted of sunshine and warm orchids.
A heady, potent combination that made his cock stiffen to the point of pain.
Grasping her face in his hands, he kissed her with an urgent need that thundered through him.
It didn’t matter that he’d just enjoyed one of the best orgasms of his life.
Or that she would be the first female he’d ever had sex with more than once.
It didn’t even matter that he was increasingly certain she was his mate.
This was all about heat, and need, and sweaty bodies tangled together in raw pleasure.
Plundering her mouth with savage demand, he pressed the tip of his cock to the entrance of her body, then with one thrust of his hips he was locked deep inside her, the sizzling power of his Incubus magic wrapping around them in a golden swirl of bliss.
~ ~ ~
It was several hours later when Jian reluctantly forced himself to press a final, lingering kiss on Muriel’s swollen lips.
It wasn’t that he feared the effects of making love to her yet again.
Granted, he’d lost track of the number of times he’d claimed her sweet, willing body. But it didn’t matter if he’d reached the magical number eight that would bind them together for eternity. He’d already accepted that this exquisite angel was born to become his mate.
“As much as I would love to spend the rest of eternity with you wrapped in my arms, I can’t forget what brought me here,” he husked, grudgingly rolling off the bed and pulling on his clothes.
Muriel’s drowsily sated expression was instantly replaced by a wary unease as she slid off the bed and headed toward a small wooden chest in a far corner.
Jian had a brief glimpse of a slender female ass before her wings were snapping together to hide the magnificent view. Then, reaching into the chest she pulled out a simple linen dress that she dropped over her head to cover her slender curves, arranging it to drape down her back without interfering with her wings.
Jian sucked in a sharp breath. Since when had a woman getting dressed been so damned sexy?
Usually his only interest was getting them undressed.
Shifting as his cock was once again hard and aching, he watched her turn to study him with a guarded gaze.
“You intend to track down the Sovereign?”
“Eventually.” He ran his fingers through the short strands of his hair, already sensing she wasn’t going to be happy with what he had to say. “First we need to discover what is hidden in the lower dungeons.”
He was right.
Instantly her features tightened with an emotion he found impossible to read.
“What are you hoping to find?”
Well, that was the question, wasn’t it?
When Vipera had hired him, it had been with the command to discover where the Sovereign was hiding.
His own goal was far more personal.
Especially now.
The bastard was going to pay for shooting his angel.
“Something that will prove the Sovereign is a traitor to his people,” he at last said.
Her brows pulled together, forming a deep frown over the indigo beauty of her eyes.
“Do you want the Throne?”
“Not for myself,” he answered without hesitation. His duty was to restore the House of Xanthe to its former glory. He would leave the role of leader to someone more suited to the task. “But I’m determined to see an Incubus of honor as our Sovereign.”
“Then why don’t you demand the current leader step down?” she demanded.
“Because I don’t have the proof I need.” He reached to grasp the obsidian dagger that’d dropped to the floor. “Not yet.”
She lifted a hand to touch the silvery marks that still marred her skin from the bullet wounds.
“And it’s imperative to have proof?”
“If we hope to avoid war,” he admitted. He’d learned from his grandfather that it wasn’t a simple matter to remove the House of Marakel from the Throne. His burning desire to discover that evidence, however, didn’t blind him to the fear that he could sense trembling through his fragile companion. “Why are you attempting to keep me from the dungeons?”
She bit her lower lip. “I’ve been forbidden to enter the lower dungeons.”
He moved to stand directly in front of her, gently tucking a curl behind her ear.
“Aren’t you in charge here?”
She gave a hesitant nod. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have to obey—”
“Obey whom?” he prompted as her words were cut abruptly short.
“Those who sent me.”
Those who sent you?
Why the hell was she being so cagey? Was there something going on with the Oubliette?
“Muriel.”
With a jerky motion she was turning away from him, her wings spreading to keep him at a distance.
“I’ll be punished.”
Calmly, Jian walked around the feathery barrier so he could once again stand in front of her. His lovely angel was going to have to learn that he wouldn’t be shut out.
Not when she so clearly needed him.
“What do you mean?”
She kept her lashes lowered, a fine tremor shaking her body.
“When Canaan escaped I was thrown into the abyss.”
He winced. He’d been delighted when he’d heard that his fellow Incubus had managed to escape from the Oubliette and regain command of his House. Now he deeply regretted the agony Muriel must have endured.
“I’m sorry.”
She lifted her head, her expression grim. “I just got out. I won’t go back.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Muriel shivered as Jian ran gentle hands over her shoulders and down her arms, as if his touch could ease the memory of the flames that had burned her flesh from her bones.
And he wasn’t wrong.
The feel of his light caress helped to replace the horrifying sensation of fiery pain with a golden glow of pleasure.
Not magic.
Just a female responding to her male’s tender care…
“I can’t bear the thought of you being hurt,” he growled, his voice rough with anger.
She shrugged. “I failed in my duty.”
He instantly pounced on her words, his eyes narrowing. “Duty to whom?”
“I told you,” she muttered. “Those who sent me here.”
“You’ve actually been quite careful not to name who has a claim on your loyalty,” he pointed out.
She shook her head, fear arrowing down her spine.
This Incubus was so noble.
Terrifyingly noble.
Not only had he been willing to brave the pits of purgatory to help his people, but he’d stayed to save her when it would’ve been so much easier to leave her behind.
But he didn’t understand just who he was going to have to face if he continued his search for the truth.
“Don’t do this, Jian.”
His fingers skimmed back up her arms and over her shoulders before tracing the upper curve of her wings in an oddly familiar gesture.
“Why?”
“It’s dangerous.”
His Incubi heat wrapped around her. Not to seduce, but to comfort.
“Who sent you here?”
She heaved a deep sigh. Stubborn fool.
He was going to get himself killed.
“The Conclave,” she reluctantly revealed.
His eyes widened in shock. “The angels are in control of the Oubliette?”
“Yes.”
“Since when?”
“I’m not sure.” She licked her dry lips, unable to bear the thought of what would happen if they managed to capture Jian. “At least the past five centuries.”
Demon m
agic blasted through the air, the sexual heat nearly sending Muriel to her knees.
Good…heavens.
She was never going to get used to that.
“The Sovereign must have known,” Jian snarled, seemingly unaware that Muriel was drowning in his sensual power. “But why would he allow them to gain such power?”
She sucked in a deep breath, leashing her fierce urge to rip off his clothes and lick him from head to toe. How was she supposed to concentrate when he was arousing her to the point of insanity?
“I truly don’t know,” she choked out.
Turning away, Jian paced toward the middle of her private cavern, his liquid grace reminding her that while he had the sexual prowess of an Incubus, he was also a lethal warrior.
“They must have promised him something,” he muttered, thankfully leashing his magic. “Power, weapons…some means to retain his Throne.”
Muriel pressed a hand to her racing heart, trying to clear the fog of sex from her mind.
“They no doubt promised him any number of things,” she agreed, her lips twisting into a humorless smile. “But he would be a fool to believe them.”
Jian turned back to meet her wry gaze. “You think they’re using him?”
“Of course.” She grimaced. When she’d been called before the ultimate leaders of the angels, she’d been awestruck. Now she realized she’d allowed herself to be blinded. Not only by their unmistakable power, but by their fearsome beauty. “The Conclave have become obsessed with the desire to regain control of your world. The first step is gaining command of the Obsidian Throne.”
“The idiot,” he ground out, the golden eyes glowing with an inner fury. “He’s become their puppet and he doesn’t even realize it.”
She grimaced. “He isn’t the only one.”
Making a visible effort to control his frustration, he moved back to cup her face in his palm.
“Why did they send you here?”
Ancient anger rushed through her. “I was told it was because I’d refused the mate chosen by my family.”
His hand tightened on her face, the air prickling with a sudden danger.
“Mate?” he rasped. “Some other male tried to claim you?”
If any other male had said anything about claiming her, she would have made sure he understood with painful clarity she wasn’t an object to be owned. Not by anyone.
