Nemesis: Paranormal Angel Romance (Realm of Flame and Shadow Book 2)

by Christina Phillips

  “You nearly died.”

  “I know.” She rose onto her toes to slide his shirt from his shoulders. His wings prevented her and for a second she forgot what she’d been saying as their beauty once again enchanted her. “But I’m not dying now.”

  “Rowan,” he said her name again, and the anguish in his voice pierced her heart. She tore her fascinated gaze from his wings and silenced him with a fleeting kiss on his lips.

  “If you’re going to tell me to stop, then don’t say anything at all.”

  “When have you ever done anything I’ve told you?” Finally, there was a hint of amusement in his voice and the knot of anxiety deep in her chest eased. He wasn’t going to fight her. He wasn’t going to push her aside. He was willing to take what she wanted to offer.

  She attempted to wrench his shirt off once again and failed. Frowning she curved her hands over his shoulders and tilted her head to one side as she contemplated her obstacle.

  “Why did I never have trouble with your clothes before? I mean your wings have always been there, haven’t they? Even when they were invisible.” And not just invisible. She’d explored every inch of his body on countless occasions and she was damn sure she would’ve noticed touching a pair of invisible wings.

  He flashed her a grin and her heart melted. He looked so irresistibly gorgeous when he smiled like that.

  “They were never just invisible.” He unfurled them to their full, incredible width, and she only just managed not to gape in reverential awe at their majesty. “They were cloaked by an archangelic glamour. Universe of difference, Rowan. As far as mortals were concerned, I didn’t have wings. Therefore—I didn’t have wings.” His grin turned smug.

  She allowed him his moment of superiority. Because surely there had never been a more beautiful sight in the universe than the splendor of Azrael’s extended wingspan.

  “All right.” Her voice was husky, but she didn’t care that he knew how much she wanted him. “That’s a cool party trick. But how am I supposed to strip you naked for my perverted pleasure now?”

  “Watch.” He folded his wings, tore his shirt over his shoulders—and it slid with unnatural grace along the length of his feathers and fell to the floor.

  How could he do that? But it didn’t change the truth.

  He could pull clothes off his back as if his wings were scarcely there.

  “That’s…” She glanced at his shirt, crumpled on the floor. “That’s…” She tried again but it was no use. For the life of her she couldn’t string more than a couple of words together, and neither of them made much sense in any case.

  “Impressive?” He unfurled his wings once again, clearly preening before her.

  “Yes.” She pressed her palms against his sculpted chest, and silently embraced the steady thud of his heart beneath her fingers. Impossible was the word that hummed through her mind but since only days ago she’d not believed archangels existed, it was all relative. “You are impressive. And I’m not just talking about your ego here, either.”

  He cradled her face between his hands and the smile slid from his face. He stared at her as if he had never seen her before. As though he was memorizing every tiny detail. He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t have to, because for an eternal moment raw grief glowed in his eyes and tightened his jaw.

  Azrael would never say I love you. He was an archangel, and she was merely a dhampir. No matter how many times in his long life he had fallen in love she knew, in her heart, the other women’s heritages hadn’t been polluted the way hers was.

  He might love her. But he didn’t love her the way he’d loved those other women in his past. Because, at his core, he would never be able to forget she was the half-breed offspring of his deadliest enemy.

  Bittersweet sorrow squeezed her heart for all that she had—and all that she could never have. He might never be able to admit how he felt about her, but this strange twilight love they shared was so much more than she’d ever dreamed could be hers.

  She trailed her fingers over his rock-hard pecs and then lower to mold his perfectly chiseled abs. His body was faultless. Impressive. She’d always thought it, and now she knew why.

  Because he shared the blood of ancient immortals.

  She unbuttoned his pants and slid her hands over his lean hips and taut butt. Still he didn’t say anything. His mesmeric gaze ensnared her, as if he believed she might vanish if he so much as blinked.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered. Not tonight, anyway. Tomorrow was soon enough to make plans for the future. Plans that didn’t involve staying here on his beautiful, fantasy planet for the rest of her life as he appeared to imagine.

  “I know.” His words were low, smoky and seductive. But beneath that, steely resolve vibrated, and she knew her suspicions were right. It wouldn’t be easy to convince him to let her leave. But right now, all she had to convince him of was just how much she wanted him.

  She tugged his pants over his hips and shoved them roughly down his thighs. But he didn’t respond by ripping her tee-shirt over her head or tearing her jeans from her legs. He remained exactly where he was, cradling her face and gazing into her eyes with a fierce intensity that caused ripples of desire to cascade over her exposed skin.

  Finally, he lowered his head. Time slowed and she noticed every little detail in vivid relief. The way his dark hair framed his face, the bewitching golden flecks in his eyes, the tense set of his jaw as though he contained his emotions by sheer force of will.

  She didn’t want him contained. Her nails dug into his hips and scored his flesh as she dragged her fingers along his ribcage. He reared beneath her hands but didn’t pull her into his arms as their lips met.

  It was like they had never touched before. He kissed her as though she was a reluctant virgin, a fragile human, a creature who knew nothing of the heights of passion.

  So gentle, so tender, his lips barely brushed hers in a chaste caress. It was the most erotic touch she’d ever experienced. He didn’t try to penetrate or conquer. Yet exquisite sensation flickered over her sensitized skin, like pinpricks of flame, elusive and addictive.

  She clutched his back, felt his wings tease her knuckles. His eyes darkened but instead of invading her willing mouth he nibbled a delicate trail along the outline of her swollen lips.

  His hands slid from her face and his fingertips teased the column of her throat, skimming with seductive promise over her hammering pulse. He tugged her tee-shirt upwards, way too slowly, and with a strangled groan she gripped the hem and yanked it up.

  “Get it off me,” she panted and for once he obeyed without question. She hadn’t worn a bra and for a moment his gaze snagged on her naked breasts. Just the knowledge that he was looking at her was enough to cause molten lust to surge between her thighs in primitive need. She reached for him, wanting to spear her fingers through his glorious hair.

  He caught her wrists. But his grip was loose. She could easily escape if she wanted to, but why would she want to escape when he pressed her arms to her sides and stepped towards her, closing the distance between them?

  He pressed his mouth against her throat. But he didn’t bite, didn’t claim. Instead she felt the tip of his tongue taste her flesh. His heat grazed her skin and then he drew in a deep breath and inhaled the essence of who she was.

  Prickles of raw desire radiated along her throat, over her breasts and aching nipples. She fisted her hands but didn’t try to pull free. If he wanted to torture her then she was his willing captive.

  He trailed kisses along her shoulder and skimmed his fingers over her hands and wrists. The lightest of touches, as though she was made of the finest porcelain and somewhere deep inside the thunder of her mind discordance stirred.

  His dark head nestled against her, as his mouth worshipped her sensitized breast. His touch drove her crazy and she loved how he made her feel. But was this foreplay because he wanted to go slow and tender and drive her out of her mind—or because he couldn’t forget wha
t she really was?

  “I won’t break, Azrael.” Her voice was uneven, but a thread of desperation weaved through the words. She tried to smother the flicker of hurt, but it was impossible. Would he always now wrap his desire for her in this odd cloak of restraint?

  His fingers tensed against her arms. “You did break.”

  She stared at the back of his head as his tortured words echoed through her brain. He was treating her like glass because he thought she might shatter?

  A deep ache filled her chest, making it hard to breath. She raked her fingers through his hair and pulled him upright. Dark desire filled his eyes, leaving her in no doubt that he wanted her. Whatever he might feel about her tainted heritage had nothing to do with this.

  “It won’t happen again.” Not now she knew her limitations.

  “You nearly died.” Raw savagery spiked each word. “You could have died.” The accusation thudded between them, a personal insult that she’d had the nerve to almost die when he hadn’t decreed it should be so.

  “Yes.” She gripped his hair. “But I didn’t die, Azrael. I’m alive and I’m here with you. And I want to prove with you just how far from death I am.”

  Chapter 32

  Azrael

  It didn’t matter how hard Azrael searched her face, he couldn’t see a trace of recrimination. Her beautiful green eyes held no condemnation. By hearing his confession, she had absolved him from sin.

  Guilt clawed through him, regardless. Guilt and lust and another powerful emotion he couldn’t face, but one that left a searing sensation of cold terror in its wake.

  He had almost been too late to save her in the forest. Nico might have refused to help. The thoughts were crazy, redundant, because he had found her, and Nico had helped. But the alien fear dug poisoned talons deeper into the core of his soul. Logic had no part of its twisted trajectory.

  When he’d thought her a frail human, he’d barely reined in his lust for her. When he’d imagined she was his enemy he’d taken all she offered him. And now he knew everything about her, he was afraid to touch her at all.

  Her existence rocked the foundations of every truth he’d built his life on. As a direct descendant of Sakarbaal she was a risk he couldn’t afford to take. From the moment he’d met her, his judgement had been compromised. He couldn’t chance being distracted from his mission, but her presence was always with him, whether he wanted it or not.

  But none of it was the reason why now, when she offered him all that he craved, he remained immobile as a deeper truth, one that threatened to splinter the core of his being, thundered through his heart.

  She was a dhampir, but she was also mortal and… she could die.

  She stepped back from him and slid her jeans down her legs. Desire and need collided low in his groin, an agonizing reminder that no matter how noble his intentions when it came to Rowan, he only had to look at her—only had to think of her—and he wanted her naked in his arms.

  She kicked her jeans aside then came to him and tugged his pants to his ankles. Her warm breath feathered the inside of his thighs, a tantalizing caress filled with endless promise and unfathomable despair.

  Before he could stop himself, he raked his fingers through her gorgeous hair. So soft and tempting, and her evocative scent drifted on the air like an elusive embrace. She pulled off his shoes and he kicked off his pants and despite the fire in his blood the knot of terror in the center of his chest refused to die.

  She knelt at his feet, her hands clasped around his ankles, and looked up at him through her long black lashes. Again, she reminded him of an ancient goddess and why wouldn’t she? Immortal blood did flow through her veins. It just wasn’t the same immortal blood that he’d once fantasized.

  Her nails scraped along the back of his calves. She was a mesmerizing vision of innocence and seductress, with her dark hair tumbling over her naked shoulders. Her bewitching eyes ensnared him once again, but instantly the thought crumbled. Because he’d never escaped the enchantment of her eyes since the moment they’d met.

  She smiled. How could something so simple cause his chest to constrict? But he knew why. It was because only hours ago he would have given anything—everything—for her to once again look at him the way she was now.

  Fate had heard his desperate plea. And that twisted bitch had taken his offering and granted his wish.

  He tangled her hair through his fingers as she knelt before him. Her arms imprisoned his thighs and she gripped his ass as she slowly, provocatively, licked the tip of his cock.

  Sensation sizzled through his blood and pounded along his erection. Need engulfed him, so primal that it vanquished the fear and conquered the despair. In a diminishing sane corner of his mind he knew it was only a temporary respite, but it was one he craved with everything he was.

  Gods, she felt so good. Hot and wet and her breath drifted across his slit with tantalizing promise.

  Slowly she stood up, her erect nipples burning a trail of fire across his thigh and abdomen. Then she looked into his eyes and the fear, the despair, and the overwhelming need and desire meshed, became indistinguishable. The sensation arrowed through his soul, splintered through his mind and captivated the essence of his being.

  This one perfect moment as Rowan entwined her fingers through his and pressed his palm against her heart. A moment he would remember for the rest of his immortal life.

  “Would you do something for me?” Her whisper threaded through his thoughts and it was an effort not to tell her that he would do anything for her. Because the knowledge all but paralyzed him.

  “Sure.” He aimed for nonchalance and failed with spectacular honors. She would have to be dead not to know she meant more to him than anyone he’d ever encountered.

  And she isn’t dead.

  She smiled again, but this time there was an indefinable aura of sadness in her smile as though his answer had somehow wounded her. But instead of telling him what she wanted she gently tugged at his hands and led him towards the glass doors that opened onto the veranda.

  “You want me to…” Fuck, screw, shag. The words hammered in his head, trying to drown out what he wanted to say to her. Make love to you. He’d said those words a thousand times in the past. But never in the past had they stabbed through his heart with such devastating implication. He abandoned the struggle. “Outside?”

  She opened the door, pulled him across the threshold and then wrapped her arms around his waist. Her body molded to his. Warm, vital. Alive.

  “Is this your private planet?” Her fingernails teased him in an erotic dance across his flesh. He cradled her delectable ass, pulled her closer, and the feel of his cock entrapped against her belly was indescribable torture.

  “It’s not my planet. I found it a while back, decided to make it my base. The indigenous humans are similar to those on Earth from about a hundred and fifty thousand years ago.” He breathed in deep, savoring the fresh, clean scent of her hair. “Except they appear to be missing the war gene.”

  She snuggled closer, and the tips of her fingers caressed his feathers. Ripples of desire radiated outwards and instinctively he unfurled his wings in sensual pleasure. He’d long wanted her to admire his wings. And this time he planned on enjoying her rapture. Maybe one day he’d even be able to erase the sordid encounter in the Tudor inn from both their memories.

  The back of her hands glided across the underside of his feathers and the green of her eyes all but vanished as her pupils dilated.

  “In that case, I want to take you… up there.” Her gaze drifted to the skies, and despite everything an unexpected laugh rasped along his throat.

  “You want me to fly through the heavens as we make love?” The words came easily, and his heart didn’t shatter in his chest, and the universe didn’t tumble into ash around his shoulders. Instead, raw lust gripped him, and the vision of Rowan as she climaxed in his arms all but incinerated the black fear that still held him in its lethal claw. “You’d better hold on tight. It could b
e a rough ride.”

  Chapter 33

  Rowan

  Rowan wound her arms around Azrael’s neck, and he tightened his grip on her bottom and hoisted her up. She laughed at the sheer decadent evil on his face and wrapped her legs around his waist. There was no need to worry she might accidentally crush his ribs. She could grip him as tightly as she liked, as brutally as she needed, and there was never any danger he’d end up in the hospital.

  He drew back his magnificent wings and she gazed, spellbound, as his feathers undulated in iridescent splendor. The mountainous backdrop faded and the mid-afternoon sun dimmed.

  The villa fell away as his powerful wings brushed against her in a mesmeric wave. Terror and exhilaration pounded through her blood as she held him in a death grip and craned her neck to see how high they were.

  But all she could see was the endless azure sky, his incredible wingspan, and irresistible grin of self-satisfaction at her awe. It didn’t matter what planet they were on or where in the universe he’d taken her. Because she was in Azrael’s arms and he…

  He really is flying.

  One false move and she’d plunge to her death. Except he would never let her go. Never put her in any danger. She’d once told him her most outrageous fantasy was to completely trust her partner. At the time she’d meant to trust him enough to share the dark secrets of her life.

  He already knew more about her than she’d guessed back then.

  She trusted him. Completely. And she wanted him to know. Slowly she unhooked one arm from around his neck and speared her fingers through his windswept hair. He held her as securely as if they both stood on solid ground.

  “Don’t let me fall.”

  “Never.” He was no longer laughing, and his intense gaze stoked the desire curling through her. His fingers skated up her back and shock pulsed through her at the knowledge he could hold her so easily with just one arm.

  She had no idea how fast they were traveling, but the wind whipped her naked body in an erotic touch that bordered on pain. She captured his lips and this time he wasn’t gentle, didn’t hold back, or behave as though she might splinter beneath his onslaught.