by Celia Kyle
She tore her gaze away, staring at the plush carpet as she fought to get her racing heart under control. The wolf wanted Sam as its mate. Mate. For life. Her very long, never-ending life.
And gels live forever…
Hellborn half demon and a somewhat fallen angel together for eternity. So not happening.
Caith cleared her throat, fighting to speak. “Feeding?”
“Yes, feeding you is definitely something I can do.”
She didn’t imagine his version of feeding and hers were the same. When she padded to the table, she noted several room service plates spread out before her but only one fork. A fork Sam held and it didn’t look like he’d relinquish it any time soon.
“I’m capable of feeding myself.”
“Of course you are, but where’s the fun in that?” He smirked and her clit twitched in response, her body silently calling for him.
The wolf, however, wasn’t quite so silent inside her mind. It whined and whimpered, tail wagging and raised high for the gel. Caith pushed the beast’s desires to the back of her mind. Jumping into bed with a man, a gel, she barely knew was a very bad idea.
Very.
The wolf disagreed.
“Look, Sam, I appreciate you helping me out—”
He eased closer, surrounding her with his scent. Musk and sweetness with hints of sulfur. That last aroma was proof of On High’s rejection. And the combination of those three flavors tormented every part of her.
She wasn’t just a demon, or only a werewolf. Her mother was the devil’s sister, her fathers were a devout warrior from the crusades, a pure of heart unicorn, father of the earth, a teasing pixie, and finally… a werewolf.
She had bits of each of them in her blood and they all craved the gel before her.
“I didn’t help you out. I saved you, Caith.”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Assisted a little, actually, but,” she shrugged, “to-may-toh, to-mah-toh. I’m alive and I get that you may have had a small part in that whole drama. But this,” she waved her hand between them, “isn’t happening. I don’t even know you.”
Really, she resisted because she wanted it too much.
He eased closer and she stood her ground, refusing to shuffle away. She couldn’t show weakness. The very second he found a chink in her armor, he’d take advantage of her.
Well, “take advantage” was more like “pounce on her and make her scream his name.”
Caith gulped.
Sam raised his hand and traced her arm with his fingers, starting at her wrist and traveling higher. He didn’t touch her, his digits hovered over her skin and the robe, but his heat sank into her nonetheless. Her body answered, flaring to life, sending arousal along her veins.
She was so gone for this guy. So very, very gone.
Sam’s travels brought him over her shoulder, to the column of her neck, and finally to her cheek. She knew her face was flushed, the heat of her blush unmistakable.
And then… then he attacked her control. Not with a shove, but with a gentle touch of his palm on her skin. She sighed with the connection, the tension filling her body immediately fleeing with the link.
“Your body knows me, Caith,” he murmured.
She couldn’t tear her gaze from his, from the desire in his stare or the stark lines of barely repressed need that filled his features. “My body doesn’t speak for me.”
“Maybe it should.”
Caith tried to shake her head, but she couldn’t get her muscles to respond. Stupid wolf. No, something else urged her to stay in place and take what Sam had to offer.
Yes, her wolf was there, but so was her demon… her warrior’s courage told her to quit acting like a pussy. Her pixie’s mischief reminded her of how much fun could be had in bed. The earth’s need to grow and reproduce shoved her toward baby making activities. And, hell, even her purity-hunting unicorn bits told her it was time to get her groove on.
Nope. Wasn’t happening. Really. At all, even.
“No, it shouldn’t speak for me,” she screamed at her disjointed genetics and demanded control once again. She was able to take one step back and then two, putting space between them. “And it won’t. I know your name and nothing more. I’m in control, not my hormones.”
There, she almost sounded sure of herself.
“Maybe.” He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “So, get to know me. We have a few hours before morning.”
He sounded unthreatening, but the lie was in his eyes. When the blue bled to the brightest red of sunrise, she knew arousal still attacked him. The color meant that the part of him that’d brought him crashing to the tween was close to the surface.
It shouldn’t have excited her as much as it did.
“Sam…” She shook her head, but when he snared her hand, sending a jolt of awareness racing through her, she didn’t put up much of a fight.
Not when he touched her or tugged or encouraged her to sit on his lap. The hard ridge of his cock was unmistakable, as was the vibrating moan that escaped him when she wiggled her ass to get comfortable.
Her wolf was thrilled that they’d brought one of On High’s to his knees, only able to release guttural sounds instead of words.
“Eat with me. Lemme feed you. Between bites, you tell me about yourself and I’ll tell you about me.” He licked his lips and she wondered what he’d taste like. “And when we’re done, I’ll discover your body’s secrets.”
She wanted him to hunt them all. Like, really, really wanted him to.
But she wasn’t that sexy-smile-I-will-drop-my-panties girl anymore. It’d been hundreds of years since she’d hopped into bed on a whim. The 70s free love movement didn’t count. So, yeah, years.
“There will be no secrets or bodies or…” She licked her lips and his gaze dropped to her mouth. Kissing.
Danger, Caith Morningstar, danger.
Sam ignored her words and leaned forward to uncover the first dish.
Oh, On High, he went for the jugular right out of the gate.
Beef, lightly seared and gloriously pink. Her mouth watered as he speared a small square and lifted it from the plate. When he leaned back and held it before her lips, she whimpered. When he traced her lower lip, teasing her with the taste and scent, she whined.
“I ordered things that would appease all of you.” His voice was husky and deep. “This is for your wolf,” he whispered and she opened her mouth, taking the morsel.
The coppery flavors coated her taste buds as the meat melted on her tongue. “Oh, On High, that is good.”
She swallowed the chunk and then another was presented to her, moist with blood and teasing her beast with the delicious aroma.
“Make that sound for me again,” he crooned.
That was easy.
“How about some of this?” He leaned forward once again, lifting another metal cover aside to reveal…
She moaned and the food hadn’t even passed her lips!
Sam chuckled, flashing her a knowing smile. If she hadn’t wanted the food so bad, she’d have kicked him. But she did. So she didn’t. He speared a chunk of the pale fruit and leaned back, presenting her with the treat that called to her.
“A little sweet for your unicorn?”
Caith opened her mouth for the piece of apple, biting and crunching the fruit. So, so fresh…
“Let’s see what else we have, hmm?” Another lid lifted, another delicacy.
Mashed potatoes—organic of course—grown in her father’s earth.
Chocolate cake in the shape of her uncle wearing a tiara and a tutu that appealed to her pixie. There had to be a tweener in the kitchen to whip up the treat so fast. Yum.
“Gimme…” She was not afraid of chowing down in front of a guy. His hard cock proved that he liked all of her curves. He could watch her keep that shape he found so arousing.
She hadn’t seen anything that represented her battling father, but
he gave her another bite of apple and she figured she’d ask later.
Ask…
“You,” she swallowed a piece of meat. “You haven’t told me anything about you. The way to my bed isn’t entirely through my stomach.”
It went a long way though.
“Hmm… Not much to tell. I’m Samkiel, angel of destruction, purifier of souls. All that.”
Caith snorted. “I think the ‘all that’ portion of your statement is probably why you’re in the tween and not On High.”
“Maybe.” He took a bite of apple and she almost whimpered. Almost.
“You said you couldn’t eat.”
Sam shook his head. “No, I can eat, but it doesn’t nourish me. The taste… that’s another story.” He stabbed a piece for her. “Anyway. That’s it. I destroy and purify. I have for uncountable years and I will for many more.”
She licked her lips, gathering the remnants of her last nibble of beef. “But why are you half fallen?”
He grimaced, the arousal she’d spied fading away. “I made a choice that On High didn’t agree with. I purified a spirit that was probably best left to your uncle. So,” he shrugged, “I’m here.”
“You thought for yourself.” It was one thing Caith never understood. The detailed rules and requirements and… Her demon brain couldn’t wrap her head around the concept of an angel’s lack of choice.
“I thought for myself,” he agreed.
“Was it bad? I mean, what you did?”
Sam placed the fork on the nearest plate with a soft clink. When he turned back to her, seriousness filled his gaze, his look intent. “I felt—feel—the person I touched was worth redeeming and I still feel that way. Not because it brought me to you, but because—while I know he’s your uncle and I’m sorry for this—she didn’t deserve what would have happened to her in Hell.”
Her.
“Did you love her?” Caith hoped he hadn’t. Really hoped. She’d heard of angels falling in love with a human in the tween. He smiled and she cursed herself for asking the question. “Don’t read into it,” she rushed the words out. “I was just curious.”
“Uh-huh.” His smiled widened. “I know what you’re not saying, but no, I didn’t love her. I followed her family, and despite her mistakes, she was a good person. She’d just made a lot of mistakes.”
“So… you being here. Is it permanent?” Not that she wanted him to stay in the tween forever or anything. She definitely didn’t want to hang out twenty-four seven or stare at him naked.
“It depends on On High and you.”
“Me?” she whispered.
“Uh-huh.” Need filled his face, desperation for her plainly written across his features. “You.”
Then his hands bracketed her face, thumbs tracing her cheekbones and holding her steady as he eased closer to her. He gave her plenty of time to pull away, to say no, but she couldn’t bring herself to utter the single syllable. No, not when her mouth watered and her body called for him. Her skin stung, the wolf pushing forward and stretching her flesh. Her gums ached, fangs threatening to burst forward. The animal wanted her to sink her teeth into him and claim him. Gel or not, Sam belonged to them.
And that scared the hell out of her. But not enough to make him stop.
He brushed his lips across her mouth, teasing her once, twice, and on the third pass, he lingered. He taunted her with his scent and taste, pressure increasing, and then he lapped at the seam of her lips. She opened for him at the first skating touch. She wanted to delve into him as much as she wanted to be possessed by him.
He tasted just as she imagined, sweet and hot, and so fucking delicious. She pushed against him harder, going deeper and finding more of his flavors. She wanted all he had to give and then some.
Her nipples were hardened pebbles, firm against his wide chest and she squirmed to rub against him. She swallowed his groan and did it again, reveling in his sounds that countered her own. His dick was hard against her ass, throbbing and pressing against her flesh.
What would it feel like to have him inside her?
Heaven.
Caith wasn’t ready to make herself that vulnerable, but she could…
Without breaking their kiss, she changed position, pushing and flexing until she straddled his hips. The new pose had her soaking pussy against the seam of his leather pants. The heated surface scorched her center, and she ached to take him into her body.
No, not now. She wasn’t ready for—
Sam gripped her hips and pulled her tightly against him, pressing her pussy along his length. He encouraged her to slide over him, rub her needy flesh over his captive shaft. She moaned and whimpered, unable to stop the sounds from escaping. She took the kiss deeper, giving and taking all she could.
His lips left hers for a brief moment. “Give it to me, Caith.”
And just like that, the rush of arousal vanished in a blink.
Everyone wanted her to give, give, give… They only wanted to take, take, take…
So many people had taken from her in the past.
Stupid girl, hadn’t she learned from her mistakes?
With a hoarse cry, she wrenched from his arms, back colliding with the table. Dishes rattled and clattered as they fell to the ground, but she ignored the sounds and mess she created.
“No,” she rasped, still backing away.
Sam remained in place, chest heaving and eyes glowing with unfulfilled arousal.
“Caith?” His voice held a hint of confusion.
“No.” She cleared her throat and tugged the sides of her robe together. She was nude beneath the sumptuous fabric, a fact she’d forgotten too quickly. “No.”
“Caith,” he murmured.
She shook her head, backing farther away. “No, Sam. I’m-I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.” She eased closer to the door, aching to run. Hadn’t she learned her lesson? “I’m sorry.” The suite had only one bedroom… and one bed. One, massive king sized bed. She couldn’t climb beneath the sheets, not while Sam was near. She’d succumb to him then. Let him take and take until she had nothing left to give. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Sam ran his palm over his face. “Just because I’m half fallen doesn’t mean I’m an asshole, Caith. I’ll sleep—”
“No,” she whispered. “I need to stay out here. Please.” She hated that she begged, but the bed tormented her.
Sam stared at her, his gaze searching and hunting and she prayed she could keep those broken bits of her hidden a little longer. “Okay. I’ll see you in the morning, then.”
“Right,” she nodded. “In the morning.”
Chapter Five
Caith sprang from slumber to fully conscious in a fiery rush. Her wolf jolted forward before she could stop the beast and the centering wave of adrenaline that had her mind focusing filled her.
Thank you, Dads, one and five.
Hellfire from her mother lurked, anxious to consume her as well, but until she knew what’d brought her from sleep, she needed to keep it under wraps. Fire in a hotel was never a good thing.
She remained in place, forcing her breathing to remain slow and even despite her sudden awareness. The rush of cars rolling down the streets below reached her. There was no squealing race of tires on asphalt and no horns honking in annoyance. No alarms blared and shattered the quiet. No shouts filled the air from other tenants.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
Sam’s scent didn’t reach her, the sweet and sulfur not coming to her with the cool air. So, it wasn’t him.
There was no telltale stench of rotting corpses that came with zombies.
But there was something… A sluggish heartbeat. Not the healthy thump of a living being which meant…
Vamps.
God, she hated vamps. Their dust got everywhere. Everywhere. Their ashes were worse than beach sand.
Keeping her eyes closed, she listened and focused on the sounds filling the suite. Had S
am heard them yet? She doubted it. Yells would have woken her, right?
Right.
She hoped. She’d been exhausted when she finally fell asleep and what if they killed him while she snoozed. She didn’t want to fuck him—not yet—but that didn’t mean she wanted the guy dead. If angels could die. She wasn’t sure.
“What the fuck?” Sam’s shout told her he was alive. The snarls that came on the heels of his words told her more than a few vamps were visiting.
Caith exploded from the couch, shoving the blanket aside, swords in hand and the blades ready to take on a few intruders.
Or rather, six vamps in the living room and who knew how many in the bedroom.
And funny thing… They all had green eyes.
“What the fucking fuck?”
She didn’t have too much time to consider the green-eyed assholes. Not when three rushed her, and she was forced to dodge the sharpened claws of fangy guy one and two. Fang bearer three managed to slice into her bicep, exposing her muscle to the air.
Asshole. She kicked the guy, catching him in the center of his chest, sending him stumbling backward. That split-second reprieve gave her a shot at decapitating one and two so when three came forward once again, she could let him get close. Close enough to feel his putrid breath on her face.
Of course, slicing off a vamp’s head was a quick and easy trip to Hell. Just about any tween died when she gave them a nice cut along the neck. Quick and easy.
But for this one… She had other plans. The fucker thought it was a good idea to cut her?
Screw that.
Dropping her blades, she gripped one of his shoulders, shoved her free hand into his chest past his breast bone, shattered the cage protecting his heart, and tugged it free. She squeezed and yanked and held it in her palm, the muscle still throbbing.
“Hungry? Eat this, fuckhole.” She shoved the pulsating chunk of meat into his mouth, ensuring she thrust it deeply until he could do nothing but swallow his own heart’s blood.
