William just arched a brow. A frowning Paris strode forward, clasped her hand and tugged her upright.
“Thanks,” she muttered with an irritated look to William.
He shrugged. “You’re not my type, so I don’t feel the need to help you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Every woman’s your type.”
That should have made everyone in the room laugh, but tragic as Cameo’s voice was, everyone cringed.
Aeron scooped Olivia up. Good thing. All energy had abandoned her. Her muscles were still trembling, reminding her of the aftershocks of an earthquake. Without a word to the others, who hadn’t left as planned, he carted her into the hall.
“Every time I stumble upon you, you’re injured,” Aeron said.
True, but she wasn’t going to ask him to stay away. “I suppose I should thank you for saving me.”
“You suppose, angel?” He snorted.
Fine. No supposing about it, but no way would she admit it. He’d called her angel. Again. Which meant he still saw her as she’d once been, not as she now was. He needed to realize she’d left her sweetness behind with her robe.
“With that attitude,” she said, “you’ll get no thanks from me. Ever.”
No response.
She fought a wave of disappointment. “So?” she prompted.
“So what?”
Impossible man. “Do you now assume I’m weak and easily breakable?”
Again, he gave no reply. Which meant that, yes, he did. She frowned. As much as he hated weakness, she would never be able to work her way into his bed—with him in it and naked, that is—if this kept up.
She’d have to find a way to prove how strong she really was.
The words faith and love once more drifted through her mind. She doubted he was ready for either one, however. And besides, she didn’t love him. Did she? She just didn’t know. What she felt for him was different from what she’d ever felt for anyone else, but she’d never loved anyone in the romantic sense.
All she really knew about that kind of love was that it meant being willing to die for the other person. As Ashlyn had for Maddox. As Anya almost had for Lucien. Was she ready to die for Aeron? No. She didn’t think so. She hadn’t offered such a compromise to the Council when she’d had the chance, something they might have considered. Sacrifice always earned a reward.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, changing the subject. She was still too groggy to reason things out. More than that, Legion was in his bedroom and Olivia was not ready for another run-in. If that was where he was headed, then—
“My bedroom,” he said, and her stomach clenched.
Ugh. He was. “But—”
“Legion isn’t there. As always, she disobeyed me. I felt her leave this plane of existence.”
Olivia’s eyes widened in surprise. She’d known they were linked, but that was…wow. “You’re that connected to her?”
He nodded.
Maybe Legion was right. Maybe she was meant to be with Aeron. The thought was like another injection of acid in Olivia’s veins. She herself wanted to be more than Aeron’s acquaintance, more than his friend. She wanted to be his lover. That had never been clearer than now, this moment, as his strong arms banded around her and held her close. As his heart hammered against her ear and his warm breath trekked over her skin. But she wouldn’t share him with Legion, no matter how much she desired him.
You won’t have to. You’re a confident, aggressive woman now, and you go after what you want.
True.
“I’m sorry she hurt you,” Aeron said gruffly, surprising her. “She’s just a child, and I—”
“Wait. I’m going to stop you there.” Though she did like hearing him apologize. “Legion isn’t a child. She’s not much younger than you.”
For a moment, he just blinked down at her. “But she’s so innocent.”
Innocent? Now Olivia was the one to snort. “What kind of life have you led that you consider that little fiend innocent?”
His lips twitched as he pounded up a flight of stairs. Her weight didn’t seem to bother him. “It’s just…her lisp, I guess. And her joy at dressing up and playing princess.”
“She’s spent her life in hell, surrounded by evil, souls being tortured in every corner. Of course dressing up is fun to her, but that doesn’t mean her mind is childlike. She loves you, Aeron.” Or so she said. Would Legion die for him? “She wants you the way a woman wants a man.” There was no question of that.
He stopped in the middle of another hallway, one foot raised midair. He tilted his head until their gazes locked together, his violet irises wild. “You’re wrong. She loves me like a father.”
“No. She plans to marry you.”
“No.”
“Yes. You hear me and you know I speak true.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “If what you say is correct—”
“It is. Again, you hear the truth in my voice.”
Aeron gulped, shook his head as if to dislodge her claim. At least he didn’t try to deny it this time. “I’ll talk to her, tell her a romantic relationship isn’t possible. She’ll understand.”
Only a man could delude himself in such a way.
He kicked back into motion, silent now. At his door, he shouldered his way inside. Olivia tensed, but sure enough, Legion was nowhere to be seen. She sighed with relief as Aeron laid her atop the soft mattress.
“Aeron,” she said, not ready for him to leave and suspecting he intended to do so.
“Yes.” He remained in place, hovering over her, and smoothed a hand through her hair.
She almost purred as she leaned into the touch. “I didn’t mean it before. When I said I wouldn’t thank you. I truly am grateful for your aid.”
What are you doing? He’ll never see you as a potential lover if you constantly remind him of your angelic nature.
“Yeah, well.” Clearly uncomfortable, he coughed as he straightened. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” He didn’t wait for her reply, but cast his gaze over the length of her. Perhaps that was his first full glance at her new clothing, because his jaw suddenly dropped. “You…you’re…”
Perhaps her potential lover status wasn’t in jeopardy, after all. Confident. “Isn’t it pretty? Kaia helped me.” Aggressive. She smoothed her hands down her breasts, stomach and hips, wishing he were touching her instead. Goose bumps broke out over her skin. Oh, now that was a surprise. It felt good. Really, really good. She’d have to remember to touch herself like this again.
“Pretty,” he said thickly, hotly. “Yes.”
“What do you think of my makeup?” When his gaze lifted to her face, she traced a fingertip over her lips. “I hope Legion didn’t smear it.”
“It’s…nice.” Again, his voice was thick and hot.
Was that good or bad?
Did it matter? She wanted him; she’d decided to go after him. She would have him.
Licking her lips—and tasting coconut, hmm—she sat up, propping her weight on one elbow and reaching for Aeron with the other. She flattened her palm over his pounding heart. Part of her blushed at such boldness, screaming to pull back. The other part preened, shouting to rush onward.
To achieve great joy, she reminded herself, you often had to step out of your comfort zone.
So step out already. “You can kiss me if you want.” Please, please, let that be what he wants.
For a moment, he stopped breathing. At least, his chest stopped moving. A blaze erupted in his eyes, expanding his pupils, and his muscles twitched under her grip. “I shouldn’t. You shouldn’t. You’re an angel.”
“Fallen,” she reminded him. Again. “I could have died the other day. I could have died today. In both cases I would have died without knowing the taste of you. What a shame that would be, since it’s all I’ve ever really wanted.”
“I shouldn’t,” he repeated, leaning…leaning… Regrettably, he stopped himself just before contact.
She tried not t
o scream in frustration. How close had she come to finally getting her wish? “Tell me why.” So that she could obliterate each of the reasons.
“I don’t need the distraction.” At least he didn’t move away. “I don’t need a woman. I don’t need anything.”
There was no way to refute that. Never had a man been more unwavering about remaining alone. So, rather than argue, she simply said, “Well, I do need a distraction,” and slid her hand up to his neck. She wouldn’t step out of the zone this time; she would sprint.
Determined, she jerked him down.
He could have resisted. He could have stopped her. He didn’t. He allowed himself to fall on top of her. They remained like that for a long while, simply looking at each other, his body pinning her down, neither of them able to catch their breath.
“Aeron,” she finally rasped.
“Yes?”
“I don’t know what to do,” she admitted, all the longing she felt wafting from the words.
“I may be a fool, but I’ve got it from here,” he replied, and claimed her mouth with his own.
CHAPTER NINE
SHE’S WEAK, PRACTICALLY HUMAN. Worse than human, Aeron reminded himself as their tongues twined, but he couldn’t make himself care. Later he would. Later he would regret, but for now, all he wanted was…her. Olivia. A woman his little Legion despised, a woman who had just gotten her ass handed to her—although, if he were honest, he would admit that she’d been holding her own until he’d distracted her—and a woman he would kick out of the fortress very soon.
The way she calmed and charmed Wrath made him uneasy, throwing him off his game. Even now, the demon purred, enjoying what was happening. Eager for what was to come.
Foolish. Olivia was a distraction he couldn’t afford. He hadn’t lied about that. He couldn’t waste time worrying about her, saving her when she got herself into trouble—and she would. She wouldn’t be able to help herself. The woman was determined to have “fun,” for the love of the gods.
Any other man would have been willing to help her with that, he thought next, hands falling beside her temples and fisting the sheet. Look at William. Sex-happy William. Bastard.
Mine. The angel is mine.
Wrath? Staking a claim? Laughable.
Not yours, and certainly not mine. But oh, how he wished otherwise.
In her new clothing, she’d exposed luscious skin and dangerous curves. Both of which were sins in their own right, pure temptation no man could hope to resist. Not even him. She’d wanted a kiss and there’d been something inside him that had demanded he give it to her. For once, he hadn’t had the strength to pull away. Had only been able to press their lips together, open her teeth with his tongue, and take. Take her sweetness, take her innocence. Take everything he could from the kiss.
And holy hell, the taste of her… She tasted of grapes, sweet with just a little tart, as her tongue tentatively sought his. Her nipples were hard and every few seconds she arched upward to brush her core against his erection. In contrast, her hands slid through his cropped hair and remained soft, her kiss gentle.
She would be a tender lover, just as he’d always preferred.
He’d never understood why some of the other warriors gravitated to women who scratched and bit and even hit during this most intimate of acts. Had never wanted to do so himself before. Why bring the violence of the battlefield into the bedroom? There was no reason good enough. Not to him.
Aeron’s past lovers, the few he’d allowed himself, had expected more intensity from him than he’d been willing to give. Probably because he looked like a biker, was a confessed warrior and killer, and backed down from nothing. But he hadn’t allowed them to push him into going faster or harder.
One, he was too strong and they too weak. He could too easily break them. Two, harder and faster might have roused his demon and Aeron refused to participate in a three-way with a creature he sometimes couldn’t control. Again, he could break his partners, morphing from lover to punisher.
Except…if he were completely honest with himself, there was a desire, small though it was, to push Olivia past all boundaries, to hurtle her over the edge of her own sense of control, so much so that she would attack and plead and do anything necessary to reach her climax.
Wrath’s purring increased in volume.
What was wrong with him? What was wrong with his demon? With this much interaction, Aeron should have feared hurting Olivia more than he’d ever feared hurting another. He didn’t. He deepened the kiss, taking more than she was probably willing to give.
Yes. More.
Wrath’s voice was a whisper, but still it jarred him back into reality; he raised his head from Olivia. I’m not edging into bloodlust. You should be quiet.
More!
Even though the demon had always been silent around Legion, his baby calming it much the same way Olivia did, Wrath had never wanted to kiss her.
Why was it responding this way to Olivia, then? An angel?
We need to slow down, he replied, not knowing what else to say.
Like a petulant child denied his favorite treat, the demon whined, More heaven. Please.
More…heaven? Aeron’s eyes widened. Of course. To Wrath, Olivia must represent a place the demon would never have been welcome, making the unattainable seemingly within reach. Though, to be honest, Aeron had never before suspected that the demon wished to visit the home of the angels. Angels and demons were enemies, after all.
And maybe he was wrong, but nothing else explained the demon’s…affection for her.
“Aeron?” Her eyelids cracked open, her lashes thick and black, the perfect frame for those magnificent baby blues. Her lips were wet and red, and she licked them slowly. “Your eyes…your pupils…but you’re not angry.”
What about his pupils? “No, I’m not angry.” Why would she think so?
“You’re…aroused, yes?” Those lips curved into a wanton grin, saving him from having to reply. “So why’d you stop? Am I doing it wrong? Give me another chance, please, and I promise I’ll learn the way of it.”
He pulled back a bit more and blinked down at her. “This is your first kiss?” He’d known that. I don’t know what to do, she’d said earlier. But the truth hadn’t really hit him until now. Angels remained utterly innocent, even in this? No wonder Bianka had chosen to linger in the sky with Lysander. This was…intoxicating.
Olivia nodded. Then, surprisingly, she offered him another grin. “You couldn’t tell? You thought I was experienced?”
Not entirely, but he didn’t want to spoil her excitement. Plus, he liked her inexperience a little too much. He liked being her first, her only. Liked the possessiveness now flooding and consuming him.
A possessiveness that was wrong on so many levels. “Perhaps we should—”
“Do it again,” she rushed out. “I agree.”
Innocence and eagerness, wrapped in such a pretty package. Oh, yes. Intoxicating. “Not what I was going to say. Perhaps we should stop.” Before he introduced her to far more than a kiss.
Before he introduced himself—and Wrath—to heaven. A heaven they might never want to leave.
“Only this time,” she added, as if he hadn’t spoken, “I’ll be on top. I’ve always wanted to try that. Well, since I met you.”
She was stronger than she appeared and managed to shove him to his back, cool cotton pressing into his bare skin. Without awaiting permission, she straddled his waist. Her skirt was so short it rode up her thighs and gave him a forbidden peek at her panties. They were blue this time, like her shirt, and tiny. So very tiny.
His mouth watered and he found his hands on her knees, pushing them farther apart and rubbing her against his erection before he could stop himself. Sweet heaven. Damn, damn, damn. Heaven. He shouldn’t be doing this.
More.
Moaning, she tilted her head back, and the silky length of her hair tickled his stomach. Her breasts arched forward, her nipples still hard and visible through her
shirt. Clearly, she wasn’t wearing a bra.
That did not delight him.
Her gaze met his, burning him to his soul. “I wasn’t kidding when I told you I needed a distraction. Legion’s attack reminded me of what the other demons did to me. And I want to forget, Aeron. I need to forget.”
“What did they do to you?” he found himself asking, even though he’d once told himself he didn’t care to know.
Some of the passion-haze left her, dulling those pretty irises, and she shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it. I want to kiss.”
She leaned down, but he turned his head away. “Tell me.” Finding out was suddenly more important than finding pleasure.
“No.” Her lips dipped into a pout.
“Talk.” He would learn the truth and he would avenge her. Simple as that.
Wrath snarled in agreement.
A growl escaped the angel, surprising them both. “Who would have thought a man would rather converse than do…other things.”
His teeth ground together. Stubborn woman. “Even if we kiss, I will not fu—sleep with you,” he said. Lysander’s warning chose that moment to echo in his head. Do not soil her. I will bury you and all those you love.
He stiffened. How could he have forgotten such a threat?
“I didn’t ask you to sleep with me, now did I?” How prim and proper she sounded. “Like I said, I just wanted another kiss.”
Maybe that was true. Maybe it wasn’t. Yes, her voice claimed it was, but he refused to believe it. Didn’t want to believe it. Not that he would ever admit such a thing aloud. If he were to sleep with her as she so clearly craved, she would expect more. Women always expected more, whether he pleased them or not. And more he couldn’t give her. Not just because of her powerful mentor. Complications, he reminded himself. He didn’t need them.
More!
“If I kiss you again,” he said, thinking, shut up, shut the hell up, “I won’t hold you afterward.” A kiss was not “more,” he told himself. A kiss was not something that soiled. A kiss was just a kiss, and she was on top of him, for gods’ sake. “It won’t change anything between us.” Best she understood that now. “Also, I’ll expect you to tell me what was done to you.”
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