“It never felt right giving myself to another.”
“It feels right giving yourself to me?”
I nod. “So very right.”
He licks his lips again and withdraws his fingers. “Before I take your maidenhead, there is something I need you to understand about us, Sophie. You must know what we are.”
I sit up a little bit on the sofa, trying to look as composed as I can while being completely naked and still riding the high of the best orgasm of my life.
“Have you ever heard of the term fated mates?”
I know enough about shifters to recognize their term for soul mates when I hear it. It’s supposedly a love between a shifter and his mate that can never be broken. I’ve read enough paranormal romance novels to leave me wondering if the sex could really be that good between two fated lovers or if it was just the overactive imaginations of the authors. A chill runs through me as I ponder all the possibilities. Is Gideon a shifter?
It would explain his ability to see through the dark, his raven-colored eyes, his strength and reflexes, and that strange feeling in my gut when I am near him that lets me know I’m safe. I realize, even if he is a shifter, regardless of what he is exactly…I don’t care. I have the monsters from my past to thank in part for my incredible survival instincts, if Gideon meant me any kind of harm a thousand and one tiny alarms would be going off in my ear right now.
I nod in answer. “I know what it means.”
“That’s the dark and wondrous magic you feel between us, and it will never go away, Sophie. You’re my fated one, my fierce beautiful woman. You came here for your sister but it’s our bond that drove us together like this.”
This is insanity. This is madness. Yet, I can’t seem to convince myself to fight something that feels so right. Gideon is dangerous, and I know there is a sinister and dark part of him that should terrify me, that did terrify me the first few seconds of knowing one another. But he’s seemed to push some of that darkness aside to make room for me in his heart, and like a lovesick fool, I’ll accept that place he’s made for me.
“I can’t wait to get to know you, Gideon. The real you.”
There is a spark of understanding between us. In that moment, we both know we’ve been hiding from the world, and together, we’ll shed our armor until everything we are lies completely bare before the other.
But it starts with the simple act of making love.
Chapter 10
Gideon
She is bliss. She is joy. She is heaven on earth.
Sophie is my salvation. Lucifer devour my soul and grant me the pain of one thousand deaths should I ever let anything happen to her. I can’t fathom how I could possibly deserve someone so perfect when I failed her sister so.
I can’t help wonder if Paradise planned to assign me to the sister that wouldn’t consume my entire world. Those bastards would do anything they could to keep angels from being with their fated. It’d mean their devotion would be turned towards their humans, and not towards the heavens. Well fuck them, my mate found me anyway. I’ll rip out every wing one by one if they ever try to take her from me.
For one delicious minute, I sit back and drink in her divinity. Her cream, as thick as honey and twice as sweet, still flavors my lips.
I can’t wait to coat my cock in it.
Claim her, my inner self rasps in my ear with feral ferocity. For once, I don’t feel the need to hold back from unleashing. How I desperately wish I could fully shift and let her bathe in the glorious grace I once possessed. Wings don’t matter anymore, you now have the most righteous and pure of gifts, and Paradise has kept her from you all these years.
I pull myself up on my knees and arch towards her, claiming her mouth in a ravenous kiss. At first, her kisses are cool and crisp, as refreshing as a bead of condensation sliding down a glass of sweet tea on a sweltering day. Then the contact comes desperate. Her teeth nip at my lower lip and she lets out soft, swollen moans that garble the syllables of my name.
“Gideon, I want you inside. Please.”
Lucifer almighty. She’s begging for my cock, and it’s practically busting out of my denim in earnest.
“Get on the floor,” I command through gritted teeth. It’s all I can do to keep from plunging myself in her right where she sits on the couch. But I want her to be comfortable, I must be gentle, I must do this right.
She eagerly scrambles down to the carpet, kneeling next to me. Her skin is covered in a layer of goosebumps, dimples of shadows and firelight shrouding her.
My hands drop to the fly of my jeans and I work to free my rock hard shaft. Her lashes flutter and fan over her cheeks as her line of sight drops to my length. She suckles her bottom lip which still bears the indentations of my teeth marks from an overzealous kiss, calculating if she can even take it all.
“Come here.”
She crawls over to me on hands and knees, closing the distance between us. I capture her chin in my hand and pull her against me, kissing the corner of her mouth. “Say you’re mine, Sophie.”
Her heart beats with abandon against my bare chest, and she tilts her head to give me a kiss of her own, one brimming with dark magic and even darker secrets, shared only between us. Her mouth is wet, her lips hot, and her movements grow more fevered with each passing second. She releases a throaty growl into my mouth and wraps her arms around my neck. “I’m yours, Gideon.”
I slip an arm around her, pressing my palm against the small of my back and hook another under my thigh, lifting her onto my lap with ease.
She stiffens underneath me as I press the head of my erection against her opening. She’s a virgin. I’m terrified I’ll hurt her. I’ve never been gentle with anything. As if sensing my hesitation, Sophie pulls back in my arms, lips curving into a warm smile that melts the icy exterior of my heart. “I’m so very glad I’ve met you tonight, Gideon.”
I gasp as I feel her delicate fingers explore the planes of my back. They pause over the angry scars between my shoulder blades. They’ve always hurt, yet the pain seems to quell at her touch. Her eyes gleam with questions, but she doesn’t ask me about the scars. She only smiles and presses her hips into me so that my cock slips inside her.
A hiss of air leaks from my clenched jaw. “Lucifer below, this…this is heaven.”
This woman is everything I’ve ever wanted. I silently pledge my all to her. My heart, my soul, my secrets, my fucking life if I have to.
Her pussy clenches around my dick as I slowly begin to rock her up and down. She’s virgin-tight, yet she’s soaking wet and stretches to take all I have to give her. The way her face twists up in a blend of pain and pleasure, how her body heats at my touch, how she whimpers my name into her mouth like it’s the most delicious thing she’s ever tasted. I revel in her.
This is the pleasure that Paradise has condemned. I can see why. Who gives a shit about the archangel and all the other winged fucks when my mate is riding me into sweet oblivion. She is the true keeper to the gates of paradise.
A deep growl rolls from my chest. “You feel so good. Curse Paradise and their fucking laws. It’s insanity to deny myself sins of the flesh. I was fucking made to be inside you.”
From the way she clenches, she has no idea what I’m talking about. It’s no matter, she’ll find out soon enough. I continue to buck into her. Tits smash against my chest and her mouth is on mine again with her tongue running over my teeth and swirling around in my mouth like she’s desperate for me to invade every bit of her that I can.
Both our bodies are sleek and slick with perspiration and with the way the candlelight casts our skin in an orange glow, it’s as if I’ve ventured into the devil’s den to fuck among the flames, but this is anything but torment.
“Y-you feel good too,” she groans as I pick up speed and buries her face in my neck and clings to me as I fuck her with reckless abandon. So much for being gentle. But that’s what she’s done to me, she drives me wild. She holds me like she knows she belongs in my arms
, and my heart aches thinking about all the pain she’s suffered while I wasn’t there by her side to shield her from the world and any fucker who’s ever caused her pain.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
Her nails dig into my shoulders and my scars are searing once more as she comes around me, releasing a bone-rattling cry of ecstasy. My entire body tingles, and I’m finally pushed over the edge, releasing my seed deep inside my woman, my mate. She’s trembling in the wake of pleasure, and I hold her to me, safe and close.
“You’re mine, Sophie,” I declare between fragmented breaths.
She nods, and a lazy but happy smile slides across her face as she saps into my arms. I suddenly feel the weight of the evening settle down on my body. My soul is soaring, but the rest of me begs for sleep. I’ve worn Sophie out, she’s sagging against my shoulder, her eyes fluttering closed.
Lifting her off my cock, I lay her down on the couch and settle onto the floor next to her so my back is propped against the armrest, my head next to hers.
“Get some sleep. Tomorrow we’ll start looking for Elise’s murderer and I promise you this, I’ll make them pay.”
The power of my dark oath sends a shiver up my spine and goosebumps prickle on my arms. I close my eyes and let myself sink into sleep’s embrace as the words play in my mind over and over again.
Make them pay.
Chapter 11
Gideon
I wake up to the feel of delicate fingers combing my hair and shake myself from the sandman’s stupor. Twisting around from where I lay on the floor, I see Elise splayed out on the couch with nothing to cover her body say for my t-shirt she’s fashioned into a sad excuse for a blanket.
My gut twists. Elise.
No. I shake my head, clearing the fog in my mind. Not Elise, she’s dead. This is Sophie. The memories of last night come flooding back to me in an instant. Eyes bearing all the calm tension just before the break of a storm, laying claim to my heart in an instant. Gunshots. A forbidden kiss. Powerful oaths made in the dark of the night. Moans and tangled limbs.
Sophie.
“Morning,” she grins at me through a mess of her blonde locks. She looks properly bedded, despite the fact that there is a lack of a bed in my studio.
“A good morning indeed. Sleep well?”
“I did, but it doesn’t look like you did.” She frowns as she watches me pull myself into a sitting position, rubbing my stiff back.
“I’ve slept better than I have in a long time, believe me.”
“You should buy a real bed.”
I pull myself up onto my feet and cup her cheeks in my palms, planting a quick kiss on her forehead. “Good idea, we’d be using it often. But there isn’t room for one here. When you move to Seattle, we can find a bigger place.”
She suddenly stiffens and pulls back in my arms, looking up at me with a bewildered expression. “M-move?”
I turn and quickly devour the space between the living room and the kitchenette with long-legged strides. I open the refrigerator door and frown as I am met with only empty shelves. Drunks aren’t typically in the habit of buying themselves groceries. If I want to avoid a repeat of past mistakes, I need to lay off the booze completely and start going about my fallen life like I’m still every bit the guardian I always hoped to be, wings or not.
Sophie deserves as much.
“So, breakfast. I’ve got er- mustard? Olives…though I don’t remember buying those, must have been left by the previous tenants. Oh! Bread. Wait, I don’t think it’s supposed to be this color.”
I chuck the loaf of moldy bread into the trash and look back at Sophie whose sitting on my couch with her knees tucked to her chin.
I straighten up, lips pursing into a frown. “What’s wrong?”
Now that I’m looking at her dead in the eye, I almost swear I can sense a flurry of emotions raging inside her.
“You want me to move?”
My frown deepens at her question. “I want you to be safe. You’re my ward, my mate. You belong with me.”
“I-I-”
“I can move to Portland if you wish, once we avenge Elise.”
My sweet Sophie gaps at me with teary eyes. “You would drop everything for me, just like that?”
I stretch my arms out, to gesture to the apartment with a stupid grin plastered on my face. “It’s not like I have a lot going for me here.”
Her attention drops to my nether regions, and I remember that I’m buck-naked. She drops her gaze to the carpet, and the next second I taste her discomfort.
My gut tightens. I was afraid she’d gotten caught up in the intensity that was last night. Now regret seems to simmer between us like a rank stew of garlic and fish.
Maybe I shouldn’t have taken her virginity so soon. Perhaps, we weren’t on the same page as I thought. Even now, I feel her withdrawing from the absurd yet insatiable connection we share. The darkness in my heart is slowly ebbing back, like it knows one girl couldn’t shatter my misery in a single evening, no matter how sweet her words or how welcoming her mound.
“I’m sorry. It’s just, soon for me. It hasn’t even been a full twenty-four hours that I was driving up from Portland, thinking that you were the one to kill my sister.”
“You know I didn’t.”
“I know. But I didn’t then, and I thought that nothing would make me happier than to see you behind bars. Now you’re talking about m-m-”
My jaw tics, eyes narrowing into deadly slivers. “Moving in together?” She couldn’t even bring herself to say the words. Was it that disturbing of a thought?
“Yeah…moving in together. Last night was great, but I need time to… process. We need to figure out what happened to Elise first, then we can figure out us.”
Process. Elise. Us.
I let out a sharp sigh and let the fridge swing shut between me. “Fine. But I have a slight alteration to the schedule.”
Her brow cocks with curiosity. “Oh?”
“Breakfast first. Then Elise. Then us.”
Her eyes meet mine, and a whisper of a smile curves her lips. “Breakfast. Elise. Us.”
* * *
I can’t remember a time I partook in the morning meal humans called breakfast, unless the first shot of whiskey of the day to chase away the hangover instilled by the previous night’s dinner counted. The little breakfast place we find is small, cozy, with just a few booths in the entire joint. We stuff ourselves in a booth into the corner. She’s so close, I can taste her scent on my tongue, clashing with the smell of French toast and sausage.
She smells of me.
Just as she should.
I intend on asking Damien about the Tacoma shifter pack at some point in our investigation. They’ve been trying to take down the only angel-owned establishment in Seattle for years to no avail, so if anyone is an expert on their operations, it’s him. I consider not introducing my new mate to Damien. If I bring her into The Guardian, they’ll all know what I’ve taken from her. They won’t understand, not even Dame.
Most Angels don’t believe in fated mates, save for the few outcasts who were lucky enough to find their mate yet unfortunate enough to get caught. Accepting the fact meant that our kind acknowledged that we’re shifters, and we’re all too fucking prideful for that.
I’m a fallen now, the lowest class of angels. I had already suffered the greatest punishment my kind could know, meaning I was free to break as many rules as I wanted. I had already thrown the chance of redemption out the window when temptation proved too great to deny.
But that wouldn’t stop me from getting chastised in front of the others, and while I didn’t really give a fuck about their opinions, I didn’t want to give Damien any further reason to worry.
But…I still want someone to share my joy with. And Damien deserves to know.
“Wow, this is freaking good. Want a bite?” Sophie interrupts my triad of thoughts as she pokes her fork in my direction, loaded with a bit of sausage.
“Thanks, but I a
ctually don’t eat meat.”
Her eyes bug out of her head, and I can’t help but stress over her inevitable reaction to my true nature. I need to tell her, and soon. But bringing up the fact that I’m an angel doesn’t seem like a wise topic to bring up over our first breakfast together.
“You’re a vegetarian?” she gasps through a mouthful of sausage link.
“It was another rule from the place I come from.” At this point, I’ve probably broken the record for breaking Paradise’s rules, and if I wanted to, I could break the vegetarian thing too. But the scent of carcass intermingled with maple and spices isn’t really doing it for me. I stuff a bit of french toast into my mouth and flash her an ear-to-ear grin.
“Yeah.”
I enjoy the way her eyes scrape over me in my black t-shirt.
“You don’t really look like a vegetarian.”
I snort. “What’s that mean?”
“Well, vegetarians normally don’t have the body type of Hulk Hogan.”
I didn’t know what a Hulk Hogan is but asking would only draw more attention to the fact that I don’t exactly belong in the human world. My mind drifts to Gabriel, the lean and lithe, diet-coke-drinking guardian who’d gotten his bachelor’s in computer science as a cover. He fit the part of vegetarian more than me, hell, he was better at pretending he was a human. He was also better at keeping his ward out of danger. At least until he was caught fucking his ward, if that was truly the scent I caught on his cock last night.
I clear my throat, pressing a smile. “We come in all types.”
“What kind of town doesn’t let you eat meat anyway?” She rubs her chin in thought. “And you’re super religious. Are you Buddhist or something?”
“Or something,” I chide through a gulp of orange juice.
“You’re making this really hard for me to figure out. So far my guess is a vegetarian, Italian Catholic maybe.” Her attention falls to the cold chain around my neck. “You dress like you’ve watched too much of The Sopranos. And the catholic thing would explain the tattoo of the Virgin Mary on your arm and why you were hesitant to erm…well, you know. They’re pretty strict about the no sex before marriage thing.”
Claimed by my Dark Angel: A Forbidden Paranormal Romance (Saints to Sinners Book 1) Page 7
