by J. K. Coi
His whisper-soft kisses on her sensitive skin raised gooseflesh as his hands continued to push the lace down her legs, curling behind her knees and then over her calves. Amelia lifted each of her feet and stepped out of the skimpy fabric, threading her fingers into his hair.
Raising his head, Gabriel looked up at her with shadowed eyes. “I guess you should get into the shower before there isn’t any hot water left.”
Amelia swallowed. She wanted to say to hell with the shower and insist he continue kissing her, touching her—but she nodded instead. Gabriel got to his feet and turned from her. He reached into a cupboard and came back holding two thick white towels. “Go on,” he said, pushing her forward. “Get in.”
She stepped into the enclosure and immediately turned her face up into the still-scalding spray. The glass door shut behind her with a suctioned thunk, but Amelia knew she wasn’t alone. Gabriel didn’t touch her, but she felt him standing close behind her. So close.
She started to turn, but he stopped her, reaching over her shoulder to grab the thick bar of white soap from a little tray protruding out of the tiled wall.
His hands smoothed over her back, and he spread the soap’s lather from her neck and shoulders all the way to the curve of her buttocks, and then hunkered down to caress her legs before he stood and his guttural voice finally ordered her to turn around.
Of course, Amelia had known Gabriel would be as naked as she, that he would have removed his briefs before getting in the shower with her, but even so, she couldn’t say that she’d been prepared for the reality of what that meant.
She reached for him, but he wrapped his hand around her wrist. “Not this time, baby,” he said, his mouth turning up in a pained grin. “Right now I have neither the time nor the stamina to do this properly, so let’s just keep things nice and simple.”
“What do you mean?”
He didn’t answer, stepping forward instead to pull her close until his chest pressed to hers and she could feel the hard length of his penis against her belly.
Amelia closed her eyes and tilted her head back, letting the water patter like tiny little needles over her cheeks and closed eyelids, reveling in the feelings that flooded her body and soul.
The heat of his mouth on the arch of her neck made her gasp. His firm grip cupping her ass made her want to grind her hips closer. The slip and slide of their soapy bodies rubbing against each other and the heavy beating of his heart as it thumped in time with her own had Amelia praying the heat and steam and water would shelter them in this safe place together for always.
But it wasn’t to be. Fate, duty, timing…too many things worked against them—not to mention the fact that the hot water tank was starting to run low.
“The water is getting cooler.” Gabriel echoed her thoughts with a heavy sigh against her cheek.
Holding her arms tight around his neck, Amelia nodded. She didn’t want him to let her go yet, but with one last drugging kiss, he did, stepping back and reaching for the shower door. “You finish up. I’ll wait for you.”
Chapter Thirteen
What the hell am I doing?
Need and reason warred within him. It wasn’t the water that had driven Gabriel out of the shower so that he could drip on the cold bathroom floor and stand glaring at the glass barrier between him and Amelia. It wasn’t worry that she didn’t understand what would happen, or that she hadn’t been right there along with him, ready and willing.
His angel had wanted it bad, and Gabriel was hard as stone for her.
Fuck. What, then, was he doing standing out here alone? He could be buried deep inside her right now, both of them getting exactly what they needed.
What the hell? He was never noble just for shits and giggles. There didn’t even seem to be a reason for him to be noble now, so why had he pulled away?
Damn it. He groaned aloud.
Because as much as it killed him to do it, something was wrong. With him. With her. With the two of them together.
Something’s happening to me, he thought.
No shit, dude. You made someone go blind with your fucking voice.
But that wasn’t all of it. There was more going on. The dreams. The damn dreams were so intense. Not only was he dreaming of Amelia waiting in that grimy apartment with her sword at the ready, but now when the door opened, the one she sliced to ribbons wasn’t another faceless angel…it was him.
Although he would continue to fight it, Gabriel couldn’t pretend the road he found himself walking was taking him anywhere he wanted to be.
He might just be on the road to hell.
He’d felt the moment when things started to change, the click that went off like a switch, back at that hole of a motel room. That’s when the battle had begun.
Lucifer.
Gabriel had been closer to the edge ever since. The edge of his patience, the edge of his temper. The edge of something else he couldn’t quite grasp. A cobra was slowly uncoiling in his belly, hissing and slithering. He heard it whispering in his mind, too, telling him things, promising him things. Things he had no business thinking about, no business wanting, but couldn’t seem to help himself. The same voice was telling him to get back into that shower stall and throw Amelia against the hard, wet tile. To sink into her, use her as a release for all his pain and anger.
God, he wanted her so much, but not like that. He didn’t want that.
Did he?
He swore, wiping the water from his face with a harsh brush of his forearm. There were things Amelia hadn’t told him, information she was still keeping close to her chest. The truth was, he didn’t trust her.
To top that off, he didn’t know if he could trust himself with her. He couldn’t tell anymore if his desires were his own or if they were tainted, coming from the other—and that sounded crazy enough that he didn’t want to even think about it. Too bad ignorance was no longer one of his options. If Amelia was right and Cassiel had set something loose inside him, something that wanted to take over and infect him…
That’s how he was looking at this Lucifer shit. As a disease he would fight to his dying breath. He had to. Gabriel had spent his entire life being torn apart by his inner demons. This last year had been a year of healing for him, and he wasn’t about to throw all that away.
The water in the shower shut off and Gabriel finished tucking the ends of a towel around his waist as Amelia pushed open the glass door. Steam billowed out, framing her in a muggy cloud.
Gloriously naked, she stood on the edge of the enclosure, a questioning look in her eyes. He should hand her a towel, too, so that she could dry off, but he wanted to look at her for just a moment longer.
“Gabriel?”
“Sorry. Here you go.”
She took the thick terrycloth and rubbed her lithe body dry. Her gaze never strayed from him. His good intentions and reservations wavered even more and, when she dropped the towel and came to him, he knew he was lost.
“Why did you leave?”
Why? No, the better question was: Why can’t I stay away?
“It doesn’t matter.” The decision was made. Lifting her into his arms, he carried her out of the steamy bath and into the bedroom, straight to the bed.
He laid her down but remained standing so he could look at her. She was absolutely gorgeous, but from the first, he’d been drawn to something else, something more elusive. He looked deeper, not even sure this body was her true form. Did angels even have a physical manifestation in that angel place of theirs? His mind conjured a vision of a white cloud with soft, indistinct landmarks and floating ghostlike figures.
Was it possible Amelia could look however she liked when she was here with him?
Gabriel searched beyond the great skin and blue eyes and silky blond hair. He appreciated her breasts and flat belly and he ached to spread her thighs and bury his face in her warmth—but first, he wanted to see the woman beneath.
She was provocative yet untouchable. Strong and stalwart, but soft at the
same time. She took his breath away. Most women would have tried to cover themselves under the intensity of his stare, but not Amelia. In fact, Gabriel doubted she felt the least bit self-conscious of her nakedness. After all, this was a woman who until today had denied knowing anything of emotion. What use would an angel have for such a thing as bashfulness?
Gabriel removed the towel from around his waist, watching for a reaction. There was no obvious response from his angel, but he was coming to know her well enough to recognize the flare of heat in her eyes. Lowering himself over her, Gabriel reveled in being able to press his body to hers, push her deep into the mattress. Amelia twined her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, seizing his mouth in a kiss that spoke of her need and called him to respond.
He couldn’t deny her, couldn’t deny himself.
“Amelia. Baby, say yes. Straight up, you have to tell me you’re ready for this. I may be a hopeless bastard, but even I’m not going to defile an angel…” He groaned into her ear when she arched against him and tightened her grip on his shoulders. “Oh fuck it. Hell yes, I will, but not until you tell me it’s what you want. I’m not touching you without your permission.”
Even that was a lie. Every part of him was already touching her. His lips devoured the curve of her neck. His hand cupped her breast, kneading and squeezing as his thumb dragged across her nipple. Even as his hips pressed into hers, the heavy length of his cock poked her belly insistently.
“Yes, Gabriel. Oh yes, I want this.” She urged him to settle between her thighs, lifting her knees and spreading her legs wider on either side of him.
Resisting the need to plunge within her then and there, Gabriel kissed her hard before sliding down to take the tight peak of one round nipple in his mouth. Amelia tensed beneath him. She gasped, clutching his hair in her fist. He growled low in the back of his throat, relishing the sharp tug as his lips pulled just as tightly on her flesh.
“Gabriel, oh what is…? Too much. I think maybe…I need—”
“Don’t worry, baby,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her belly, moving lower. “I know exactly what you need.”
“Gabriel.” Her thigh rode up the side of his body, hooking high, her heel digging into the middle of his back. “Please, this feels…I don’t know—” Her head thrashed back and forth on the down comforter.
His gaze followed the line of her torso until he could look into her face. He wanted to see proof of her desire reflecting back at him from those deep blue eyes, but she had them squeezed tightly closed. He wasn’t disappointed though, because her moist, succulent lips parted and she moaned his name again.
Continuing his thorough exploration, he dug his elbow into the mattress and moved lower until his face was poised at the apex of her thighs. Pushing on her knee, he forced her legs open wider and, turning his head, he dragged the day-old stubble of his cheek along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, breathing the intoxicating scent of her deep into his lungs.
“Amelia.” He loved the way her name fell from his lips. Saying it in low, whispered tones that ghosted across her skin felt right, like it was a claim he placed on her, making her his in a way that even his body couldn’t.
Finally, he couldn’t wait any longer. He dipped his head, tongue delving into the moist heat of her core. She bucked her hips. He shifted, putting his hand to her belly to keep her beneath him as he pushed her higher, wound her tighter. He wanted to feel her coming apart in his arms, wanted her to lose every shred of her always-perfect control—for him. Gabriel would give his angel this gift of a pleasure so great she’d never dare to deny her feelings for him again.
His efforts were rewarded when she cried out, her thighs tensing on either side of his head. He kept going, pushing her relentlessly until the steady pulsing of her inner muscles slowed.
Gabriel crawled back up her body then, kissing her with the sharp, bold taste of her still strong on his lips. Amelia opened her eyes, gazing into his face with an intensity that rocked him to his toes.
He positioned himself at the slick entrance of her body and paused. “Are you ready, angel face?” he murmured, pushing her soft hair back from her forehead.
“Ready.”
Gabriel hissed against the exquisite feeling as he slid into her tight warmth. He threw his head back and surged forward, feeling the thin barrier deep within her body give way.
He hadn’t expected that. “Oh shit.”
Somehow, Gabriel had failed to realize the physical implications of sex with an angel. Like the fact that she wouldn’t have done this before. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
“What?” Her eyes were glazed over and dark. A sheen of sweat gleamed off her skin, and her chest rose and fell with her deep breaths. She let out a soft chuckle, the first she’d ever given him. Her fingers trailed a line of fire down his spine and he pushed deeper. Her lids lowered and she groaned, not a reaction to pain, only pleasure. “Trust me, Gabriel. You can’t hurt me.”
“God help me, I hope not. That’s the last thing I want to do,” he whispered. “But you know, there’s a distinct and fine line between pleasure and pain, my love.”
Lowering his head, he teased one nipple with his teeth as he took the other between his fingers, rolling and pinching hard until she cried out and squirmed deliciously beneath him.
As her hips arched to take more of him, Gabriel started to move. Slowly at first, letting her adjust, but soon he couldn’t help himself, pounding hard and fast as he rushed to his release. Amelia held him, her grip on his shoulders tight as she lifted her hips in time with his movements.
After fantasizing about this moment since the day she’d stormed into his life, Gabriel still couldn’t have imagined how good this would feel. He’d fucked women before, but this wasn’t just any woman. And this wasn’t just sex, but an expression of something deeper than he could bear to examine. Crucial and devastating all at the same time.
Gritting his teeth, he held on, forcing himself to wait until Amelia fell over that ledge. As her movements grew shaky and quick, he clutched her hips to steady her and kept moving. His head fell to the crook of her neck, his lips pursed over the pulse that slammed against her throat. Then, without thinking, he gave in to the sudden surge that flowed through him, opening his mouth and sinking his teeth over the tight tendon at the top of her shoulder, biting down hard.
Amelia’s hips bucked, her shattered cry piercing his soul as her muscles gripped his shaft, and Gabriel finally let himself join her in oblivion.
Chapter Fourteen
Amelia let the massive, pulsing waves of feeling crash through her. She became aware of something else pushing strongly against the walls of her already cracked shields, an invisible but forceful sequence of explosions.
Thrown off balance by the unexpected potency of the pleasure Gabriel had given her, she wasn’t prepared and didn’t immediately recognize the energy for what it was. Not until it was too late to put a lid on it. By the time she realized just what Gabriel had let loose, the surge of power coming from him was crashing right through her protective wards.
A strong circular pulse hit the room, sending objects flying through the air and the pictures on the wall crashing to the floor. The lights blinked on and off and the short hairs on her arms stood on end, vibrating with electricity that crackled and sparked.
Gabriel’s eyes were closed, his breathing as heavy and ragged as her own, and his expression had become tightly shuttered, as if he’d locked himself away from her even as his body still filled hers.
Worried, she gripped the forearm he’d buried in the blankets beside her. His muscles were rock hard as he held himself over her—not only his arms, but his entire body taut as a wire stretched to the breaking point.
As the lights continued to flicker, Amelia did the only thing she could think of—she clung to him and crooned a soft tune. It wasn’t angel song, not exactly, but a compelling, wordless variation of a melody she knew to be one of his own. The song came out of her as an
undeniable demand—calling Gabriel out of his dark place, calling him back to her.
It was a long time before he opened his eyes. When he blinked down at her, a dark look of fear and regret passed over him as he slowly unclenched his fists from the cotton comforter at her sides. He moved away, leaving her cold.
Falling onto his back, he threw an arm over his face. For several quiet moments he remained still but tense. Amelia sensed his fight for control and could only wait patiently to see if he would succeed.
Finally he shifted, turning his head to look at her from beneath his forearm. “What the hell was that?” He winced. “Shit, I’m sorry. I just meant—”
Amelia shook her head, impatient and angry with herself. “I know what you meant,” she snapped. She’d made a mistake. A huge mistake that had already manifested in serious consequences.
She got up from the bed and moved to stand in the center of the room. Knowing it was already too late and cursing her foolishness and irresponsibility, she focused on rebuilding the barriers Gabriel had demolished without even trying.
It scared her. Another emotion she hated to admit but couldn’t deny. It scared her to see how strong he was, how much influence Lucifer’s soul already had over him. It scared her to know she’d failed in her duty to keep this very thing from happening.
Duty. How she was coming to hate that word and what it represented. The deeper these feelings set their hooks into her, the more Amelia had to wonder if Cassiel and Donato were right. Had she taken the wrong side in helping the Archangels cripple their race? At the time, the hate and violence of their civil war had gone on for so long, she’d agreed there could be no other way to find peace. But now, seeing where those actions had gotten them, feeling what she was now able to feel, Amelia wasn’t sure.
If she’d been wrong, then how many angels had died by her sword for a flawed ideal? How many angels had lost their souls because of her?
