Repent in Love
J. Hali Steele
Sequel to Hope in Love.
Uriel, angel of repentance, wants Morta, the one woman he cannot possess. She is the Fate who holds power over life and death. A brief fling with her is not enough. He needs more than a warm body to extinguish the flames of desire—he needs to have all of her, body and soul.
Morta has burned for Uriel for centuries. But it can never be. She is forbidden to align herself with anyone, especially an angel. After a few fevered nights in Uri’s arms, she knows there will be no repenting for her sin. Morta cannot let go of the only being in the universe who affects her so deeply.
Now Uriel must risk his life and find a way to protect their love.
Reader Advisory: This story has graphic sexual language and scenes—no closed bedroom doors (or other rooms) here!
A Romantica® erotic fantasy romance from Ellora’s Cave
Repent in Love
J. Hali Steele
Dedication
This book has been as much a labor of love as it is about love. Thanks to Doc M for waiting patiently to read the second story and to Boz—I couldn’t have done any of this without you!
Chapter One
“You bury that scythe in my floor one more time I’ll wrap it around your goddamn neck,” Uriel grated through clenched teeth. As long as he didn’t say God and Hell in the same sentence he remained safe from retribution. Michael was lenient in some areas.
Uriel, the angel of repentance, had grown tired of everything. Repentance. Life. All of it. And the foot-deep holes Samael left in Uriel’s floor with his scythe pissed him off. Not even he could kill another angel, and that’s what Sam was—the true angel of death. Uriel would enjoy the fight but, without a doubt, Death wasn’t the one he should pick on. The Father gave Sam power to destroy anything. Including angels. Right now the Grim Reaper, which is what humans called Sam, was his best friend. Hell, Uri’s only friend. But why was Sam in Uri’s domain? Ever since his showdown with Ramiel, the angel of hope, Uri had become persona non grata, and he deserved it.
He recalled that day with venom in his soul and it made him think of her.
Morta.
A whole new vista opened in his mind. Uri’s erection surfaced immediately with thoughts of Morta, the Fate responsible for cutting the thread of life. The woman who occupied corners of his mind he didn’t know existed. He envisioned long white-blonde hair and eyes that rivaled the violets he loved. In fact, he had created the flower so he could see the color everywhere he went.
Samael’s voice pulled him from his reveries.
“You need a fucking life. You’re no fun anymore and that bulge in the front of your pants is a nasty sight.” His laughter rang through the chamber. How could someone who carried death so easily have such a melodious sound of joy emanate from him?
Uri felt very little of any emotion lately. “It’s only nasty to you. Many love it.”
“Yeah, well they ain’t getting much of it right now. Morta will never happen, Uri, she’s one of the three Fates. Wrap your head around that shit, man. Let’s go find some excitement.” Sam lifted and dropped his scythe with a clang.
Uri reached to take the weapon of death from his hand and a shock wave sent his chair backward and him skittering across the floor on his ass. “You piece of shit,” he snarled from his crumpled position against the wall.
“By now you should know better than to touch my tool.” Sam chuckled. “Can’t control it myself sometimes.”
Uri used his mind to right the chair and appeared back in his seat as though nothing had happened. Definitely the wrong one to battle with today or any day. Shit. “I’m not in the mood to go out.”
“’Til you get yourself some of your Fate’s tail, you won’t be. You can’t keep her but you need to tap that thing and move on.”
Uri’s face flamed hot as he aimed a look at Sam. It did nothing to wipe the quirk from Death’s lips. “What if I did want to keep her? Ram did it.” Which still gnawed a hole in Uri’s gut.
Maybe Sam was right. He should take Morta and just enjoy her body. He had wanted her from the day he first saw her. How many hundreds of years ago was that? Time moved so quickly in Heaven.
There was the time in Michael’s study when Uri thought to mentally play a game of cat and mouse with Morta but she’d turned the tables on him and mind fucked him until he came in his pants. Talk about the cat who got the cream! He’d been no good ever since. Uri tried everything possible for damn near seven years to get her beneath him. Hoping she’d come to him, he’d even given her access to his mind occasionally when he felt her. She was totally aware of how much he desired her. He let her see deliciously passionate pictures of what he wanted to do to her. None of it ever happened. She wanted him. Maybe she doesn’t. What if she played this game with all men?
He hoped not. There would be hell to pay for any male who touched her.
“She’s a Fate, man. It will never be. So come on, let’s go find something to make you feel better.”
When he found himself transported to a noisy nightclub, Uri was quickly reminded just how powerful the angel of death could be. Engulfed by loud music and voices, he took in the smoke-filled room, jam-packed with sweaty men and women—not all of them human. Lustful smells of vampyre and the musky scent of animal all assailed his nostrils. “What the fuck, Sam. Don’t do that shit again.” Unbidden, his cock did come alive and it twitched at the different aromas of female. No other smell like it in the universe, thank God. The males of all species would be crazed lunatics if the sweet scent of woman was everywhere. A halfhearted smile tugged at Uri’s lips.
“Shut up and look around you, man. Tell me you don’t want some of what’s here,” The minute Samael spied the TV, his voice was giddy with happiness. “And would you look at that wide screen? Shame there’s no game tonight.”
Uri couldn’t control his libido, which went into overdrive. He’d waited too many weeks as it was between lovers. To hell with Morta, tonight he needed to release his pent-up emotions and his cock. Enough was enough. After all, she’d had over six years to take him up on his offer. Every woman he’d been with since that day in Michael’s office all wore her face and they all had flowing white-blonde hair. Tonight he promised himself he would see who he fucked. That’s all it would be.
That’s all it had been since she’d invaded his mind and his senses.
* * * * *
Morta reveled in the crystal-blue water of the lake near the spacious mansion she occupied in Heaven with her sister Fates and let its warmth caress her as she placated the fire raging in her pussy. She explored and massaged her swollen nether lips with her fingers as her mind swirled like the waves of water washing over her body. Still she was unable to forget what troubled her. Need throbbed between her legs and it could only be cooled by one being.
Uriel.
It would never be. The Fates were destined to be alone. She’d tried hard to understand, even though she thought it unfair. Michael and the Father felt she and her sisters could not be objective enough to perform their duties otherwise. They were correct and Morta knew it because she’d thought of Uriel belonging to her for a long time.
Morta’s channel clenched with the urge to be filled with his thickness and as she floated on the water, her hand continued to coax wetness from between her legs. Cream flowed as she stroked her folds and pinched her clit. An image of Uri’s long dark hair floated around her. His sapphire-blue eyes held a place in her mind she no longer controlled. They beckoned with a lust she’d never felt before and her body ached for his. Her fingers tingled with the need to touch the stark, beautiful planes of his face, trace his full, kissable lips. She envisioned herself astride the hard muscled thighs his s
lacks couldn’t hide. Tasting him…
So involved in the mental image she’d conjured and forgetting about using her powers, Morta slipped beneath the water. Gurgling and choking, she rose to the surface, turned to her stomach and swam to shore. Her sister Fates were busy as she should be. Morta’s duties suffered and Decima had called that fact to her attention numerous times lately. Many cried out for release from the world, threads of life required severing, and until she handled her job, Lucifer and Gabriel remained held at bay.
She had to get hold of herself. Reaching the sandy shore and again forgoing magic, Morta dried herself with a large plush towel, careful not to ignite any further heat between her legs. She searched the universe and allowed her mind to briefly touch Uri’s. Fates didn’t have the power to read angels’ thoughts unless they allowed it, so he’d be aware Morta was there just as he had been every other time she’d grown too weak to stay away.
He let her in.
Flames blossomed in her chest. How dare he! Uri sat at a table in a dark club with someone on his lap. It ate at her like acid each time she became aware of him with someone else. For too many years she’d obeyed the rules but she couldn’t stand it anymore. Clothing herself, she transported to the place Uriel visited. Her nose picked up his scent before her eyes found him. She smelled Samael also; their eyes connected across the room and he headed her way.
“Mort, how the hell are you?”
Samael and Morta’s duties kept them tied closely together in feelings and thoughts. She cut the thread of life but the Grim Reaper snatched their souls and delivered them accordingly. The devil got all the unrepentant sinners—humans and magical creatures alike. Sam enjoyed painfully dropping the bad guys at Satan’s door when their time was up.
Morta had also seen another side of Sam, one that others seldom saw. He could be kind and gentle to children and elderly, whom he carefully delivered above to await Gabriel’s decision.
Her cheeks burned with anger right because she knew Sam had instigated this foray into nightlife. “Why did you bring him here?”
“Don’t start shit with me, Morta, I like you and I’m not standing in your way. Why don’t you just fuck him and be done with it? He’d like that very much.” His eyes narrowed. “You just can’t have the mushy happily ever after bullshit, so be very careful. There will be no repenting.”
“What are you saying?” Apprehension slid down her spine. She locked her hands behind her back in an attempt to hide their shaking.
Samael didn’t make idle threats.
“If I’m sent for either of you, it won’t be personal. I will take you back. It’s my job.” His lips formed a slash across his face, his voice rattled. “And I’m damn good at it, babe.”
She searched Death’s face, the only angel whose eyes weren’t blue. They were silver and resembled a mirror. Anyone who peered into them saw their own true visage. If evil resided in any being’s soul, the hideousness was reflected back. She’d seen it drive some insane. Sam towered over most other heavenly occupants, his hair the same color as her snow-white tresses. Morta often wondered why she couldn’t want him instead of Uri. His buff body screamed loud and clear: I’ll be good to you. She often eyed the exceptional bulge between his legs. It surpassed any she’d seen. But being attracted to Death was difficult.
“I’d expect no less.” Mort shrugged. Her eyes shifted across the room to Uriel who held a human woman in his lap. He’d picked up Morta’s scent and his devilish blue eyes pierced her like daggers. An electric arc sliced through the air.
Morta.
She fully entered his mind and the heat of his desire slammed into her. I want you.
I’m busy.
Suddenly shoved out, she snarled at his rejection.
Don’t play with me, Morta. I’ve waited more than enough years. Why now? His hand snaked up the woman’s short skirt and Mort felt his excitement at what he did between her legs.
She can’t give you what I can.
What are you offering?
She brought the room to a standstill. Air stopped, everything ground to a halt and not a human moved. Energy from the supernatural creatures in the room fizzled to nothing as they scurried from the club. Her eyes pierced Uri while she slowly peeled the long filmy dress from her body. Erect nipples tingled at the thought of his lips covering them. Moisture erupted from her core at the vision of his fingers deep inside her.
Uri hissed at the wolf whistle emitted by Sam, who instantly vanished.
Can she give you this? Morta’s hand disappeared between her thighs and rubbed her clit until she was drenched and almost climaxed. Shoving two fingers into her tight sheath she coaxed more liquid from herself. The aroma of sex permeated the room. Her hand came away wet and Morta slowly drew it up her stomach, over her breasts, and to her waiting mouth. Uri’s eyes swirled blue fire when she slipped the fingers between her lips to taste her own juices. He stood, dumping the woman from his lap, and ripped into Morta’s mind with savage vengeance, stealing the taste of her desire. Morta massaged her temples to ease the pressure.
Mine, he snarled as he mentally thrust his own fingers inside her while his long strides covered the distance between them. Her knees buckled with the force of his invasion but she never hit the floor.
He whispered, his lips brushing her ear, “It’s mine, Morta.” He caught her naked body and held her in one arm while real fingers pushed slowly into her pussy. She bucked against his hand. Everyone in the room remained motionless and time didn’t move as he stabbed deep into her core. His clothes had vanished and he took her, bringing Morta to a climax with his fingers.
“Why did you make me wait?” Her breath came in short gasps while her mind shut down with the force of her orgasm.
“Why didn’t you come to me?” He smothered her face and neck with kisses. She could barely stand his attention. Cum continued to run from her into his waiting palm. “You’ve always been mine,” he sighed, drawing everything from her.
Pushing her hand between their bodies, she grasped his hard cock and gazed at the broad head shiny with pre-cum. Morta cupped the tip of his penis and pulled in a rapid, repeated motion. His groans were muffled against her neck where he bit her viciously.
“Mmm.” Her head fell to his shoulder. His black hair fanned around her face. Her hand never lost contact as she continued to stroke his cock hard, up and down. His shaft slammed over and over through her fingers. Uri’s body tensed on the verge of coming.
“Make me come.” He jutted his hips back and forth, moving his thickness through her palm. “Harder, Morta.”
She tightened her grip on his length, working him into a frenzy. “You want to come for me?”
He grunted and jabbed at her with one last push before his cock exploded and sent warm splashes of cum across her stomach. “Damn you for making me wait.” He gulped lungs full of air.
“Shh,” she murmured. “Clothe us, please.” Uri covered her in a dress like the one that had disappeared from around her feet. He donned his customary black slacks and dark gray shirt.
Morta released the room from her spell and it quickly came back to life. Glasses tinkled, music blared from speakers and voices rose and dropped in conversation. Laughter bubbled around them. She raised her head to look over his shoulder. The woman Uri had held earlier remained in a trancelike state. Morta saw something she had noticed many times before.
Their hair was always the same white color as hers.
“I must go. I have duties to attend.” Heat suffused her face. “I’ve been lax.”
“Morta, I won’t wait another six years to have what is mine. Do you understand me?” His voice followed her as she vanished and streaked toward the stars above.
Morta knew she’d awakened a sleeping beast.
Chapter Two
Uriel’s finger ran along the scar on the left side of his face as he sat in a pew near the cathedral’s entrance. The man kneeling in front prayed for his dying child. He’d already done penance f
or his sins. Uri tried to decide whether or not to give him absolution.
“You don’t really have a choice in this one.” The somber voice beside him emanated from Ramiel.
“Ram, it-it’s been a while.” His voice hitched.
“I’ve been busy.”
Words stronger, more confident. “What’s going on with this guy?”
“Son has cancer. I’m here to give him hope to hang on to.”
Uri grunted. He was damn tired of men seeking last-minute reprieves. The guy up front screwed half of his life away and now wanted help. Uri continued to stroke his cheek. Weird how tracing the scar comforted and relaxed him. He’d carried the mark for thousands of years. God loves you, God forgives you and I absolve you of all your sins. Uriel’s absolution of the dying boy’s father had been granted for one reason—to stop Morta from cutting the child’s thread of life. Nothing more. Uri wanted to get his Fate’s attention. She’d not shown herself to him in days. “You know I wouldn’t have hurt Yael, right?” What could Uri have been thinking when he’d locked Yael up? Ram didn’t take kindly to it and Uri understood. If anyone trapped his beloved, he’d have tried to rip them in two.
“Yeah, I was pretty pissed off. You had no right to harm anyone.” Ram sighed.
“Life’s a bitch.” Uri would do it all over again because of Morta. What about her got under his skin? There had been many women in his life and he’d enjoyed a multitude of species. Why did she hold sway over him? His slacks grew snug and uncomfortable. The bulge rubbed along the seam of his zipper at the mere thought of her. “How’d you do it, Ram, with Yael I mean?” The angel of hope had changed his exulted into an angel. “We all know Michael loves you best, but he should have known what you were up to.” Uri’s words lacked enthusiasm.
“If you’re thinking what I think you are, Fates are different, they need to remain unbiased to perform their duties. Anyway, do you really want Morta, Uri? I would have thought Raphael stood in line for my spot as Heaven’s biggest whore.” Ram shook beside him with silent laughter. “Sewed that up didn’t you?”
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