Touch of the Demon Read online

  “Heaven or Earth. Is there a difference?”

  She pulled the ties of her cloak and tossed it over the rickety bed. “I’m of the Earth,” she repeated.

  “Which makes you also part of the heavens,” he said, and his fingers trailed across the top of her exposed breasts. “A part of me.” His voice was suddenly possessive and Celeste shivered in anticipation as he tugged her dress over her hips.

  He drew in an appreciative breath as he gazed at her nakedness. It had been twenty mortal years since she had last stood this way before a man, and yet even then she hadn’t been filled with the burning urgency this stranger ignited with merely a glance.

  She stroked her thumbs over her aroused nipples, cupped her breasts, and then trailed her fingers across her taut belly. His eyes followed every movement.

  “Strip for me, barbarian,” she commanded, her voice husky.

  He looked at her. “Rafe.” His voice was hoarse as he ripped off his long leather coat and dropped it unceremoniously to the floor. “My name is Rafe.”

  Celeste dipped her finger between the wet folds of her pussy. She told herself she didn’t care what his name was, and yet she knew that was a lie.

  His shirt followed his coat and her finger stilled as she marveled at his masculine perfection. How could a creature of such inspiring beauty possess a soul so withered and corrupt?

  He paused in the action of stripping off his leather pants. “What do they call you?”

  She didn’t want to tell him. It was none of his concern. And yet she needed him to know. To hear her name on his lips. “Celeste.”

  A fleeting smile touched his lips. “I said you were of the heavens. Celeste.”

  He made her name sound erotic. Forbidden. A shiver skittered along her spine as she acknowledged everything she had shared with this creature—with Rafe—from the moment she’d encountered him had been forbidden.

  The thought aroused her further and wet heat engulfed her probing finger.

  “Continue.” She jerked her head, indicating his pants, and with another gut wrenching smile he kicked off his boots and then—far too leisurely—inched his pants down his muscled thighs.

  The breath caught in her throat as she surveyed his taut, bronzed body, the candlelight showing every ridge and dip of his muscled splendor. His erection jutted, magnificent and proud, and her internal muscles clenched with glorious frustration.

  He allowed her only a moment to lust over his warrior hard physique before he strode to her and gripped her wrist. Slowly he pulled her hand from her sex, up between their bodies until her fingers were a whisper from their lips.

  Without breaking eye contact Rafe licked the top of her finger, swirling his tongue around her tip.

  Her mouth parted, breath gasped, and for answer he forced her finger against her own lips, and the musky scent of her own juices caused her senses to spiral.

  “You taste of the stars.” His voice was rough. Uneven. “You’re barely human at all, Celeste.”

  “And you’re not human at all.” Her breath grazed his lips. “Our heritage doesn’t matter, Rafe. Not tonight. And we don’t have to think of tomorrow.”

  Tomorrow, the chances were high he would attempt to destroy her for thwarting his plans. But tonight passion ruled, lust reigned supreme, and she had no intention of letting either slip through her fingers.

  For a nanosecond his black eyes glowed with an unearthly orange flame, as if he had his own intentions for her tomorrow which he didn’t plan on sharing. But then his hands cradled her face, before sliding down her throat, over her shoulders and along the outline of her body. He knelt before her, hands caressing her hips, his hot breath caressing the entrance to her throbbing channel.

  She buried her fingers in his luxuriant black hair. So soft. So silken. So deceptively perfect. Tonight she would take all she could from him, give him all that she was and ever would be, and perhaps tomorrow’s brutal reckoning might never come.

  Rafe dipped his tongue in Celeste’s damp heat, and her unique, wondrous scent flooded his senses. Not of this world. Not of any world he could imagine. She tasted of the sun, of the cosmic light; of the dawn after an endless, empty void.

  He cupped her rounded buttocks, delighting in their smooth fullness and the way they filled his hands. As she dug her fingers into his scalp, he dug his into her full flesh, relishing her gasp and the way she jerked toward him.

  He pulled back so he could admire her mound. Luminous silver curls shielded her entrance, her plump pink lips glistening with her delicious juices. She was a feast for the gods and, although he was an angel, he was ravenous and intended to devour every last, delectable morsel she offered.

  With a primordial growl, he tightened his grip on her butt to keep her still and prevent any notion of escape she might harbor. Again he dipped into her wet depths, lapping at her sweet ambrosia, and his shaft pulsed with a need so intense he feared for his sanity.

  But cocooned within the heat that was Celeste, maybe madness wouldn’t be such a terrible thing after all.

  Her fingers massaged his head, sending strange bolts of pleasure catapulting through his brain. He eased a finger between her crevice, searching, probing, and gently caressing her rosette as his tongue caressed the swollen bud of her clit.

  She convulsed around his tongue, her hands clamped to his head, holding him captive as he licked and sucked and drank her heavenly nectar. Her hips bucked against him and he held her firm with his hands as her wild gasps filled the candlelit room and highlighted the delirious abandon of her orgasm.

  He stroked her quivering clit with his tongue then rose to his feet. His control strained at the edges of his consciousness, and if he didn’t have her now his soul would shatter.

  He lifted her and spread her on the cloak covered bed. Her eyes were more golden than green now, and her silvery hair glowed like an immortal halo.

  Heart thundering, he kneed her thighs apart then manacled her wrists with one hand and raised her arms above her head.

  “Barbarian.” Her voice was slurred. She tugged against his hand as if testing the strength of her captor. “Release me.”

  He lowered his muscled bulk until his chest crushed her erect nipples. “Never.”

  As the head of his engorged erection teased her wet slit, she panted into his face. “I might hold you to that.”

  With his free hand, he brushed errant curls from her flushed face. “I don’t intend to let you go, Celeste. Willing or not, when I leave this hell hole you’re coming with me.”

  For a millisecond her eyes glittered pure emerald. “You may not still want me in the morning.”

  He gave a ragged laugh of disbelief and plunged into her tight channel to show her just how much he wanted her. To reassure her how much he would always want her.

  Her lifespan was short, as for all mortals. But he wouldn’t think of that now, not when her sweet sheath engulfed him in a tender trap of silk and fire. Not when her legs gripped him so fiercely or her hips bucked so enticingly, sending him ever closer to the rim of madness.

  “Fuck me, Celeste.” He roared out her name, and it felt so right on his tongue, as if he’d been waiting a thousand lifetimes to find her and brand her as his.

  Harder he thrust into her, as if he could somehow share his immortality with her, prolong her existence and grant her access to the dark world he inhabited.

  “Rafe.” Her whisper tore through his being with the force of a volcano, igniting his blood in a fiery torrent and his balls hardened with unimaginable tension. “I’ll fuck you forever, if you’ll have me.”

  He closed his eyes against her unearthly beauty, and starlight exploded in silver ribbons against the blood red canopy of his mind. He withdrew, then thrust, withdrew, thrust again, so deep inside her tight, wet channel. It felt so right, and his control splintered as he came with bone shattering intensity within her welcoming womb.

  As his heart thundered, and his lungs convulsed, her words echoed in his mind. F
orever. For the first time, he wanted forever. How ironic that the only woman to capture his soul was this one.

  Chapter Three

  Celeste clung to his hard body as he collapsed on top of her, his breathing harsh and his heart pounding against her breast. She welcomed his weight and the way his body molded against hers because tonight was the only night they would ever have.

  It shouldn’t matter. And yet it did. What strange spell had Rafe spun around her to distort her senses? He was her enemy. The deadly enemy of the one she loved above all other in this world.

  And yet, if it was possible, she would leave with him before the sun rose on another day. Would leave behind everything on this Earth, partly to save the one she was sworn to protect, but also because the thought of never seeing Rafe again twisted her heart into knots.

  This illicit love, which had bloomed in the heat of passion, should never have occurred—could never bring her anything but heartache. Yet how could she control the complexities of a fragile heart?

  “Am I too heavy for you, starlight?” His voice was drowsy. Contented. Celeste wondered how many moments remained before he recalled why he was there. What he was supposed to do.

  “No.” She held him tighter to reinforce her word, to keep his mind from wandering. For reply, he gathered her into his arms and rolled her on top of him, settling himself back onto her cloak.

  A slash of agony distorted his features and Celeste tenderly trailed her fingers across his brow.

  “What the fuck?” he growled, shifting them both to one side of the bed as his hand groped the cloak.

  Celeste stilled, suddenly aware of what was happening. It was too late for her to hide the evidence, and she couldn’t escape his rage as he still held her in a bone crushing embrace. All she could do was cling to him as he leapt from the bed, picked up her cloak, and shook it in sudden frenzy.

  The stiletto slipped from its hidden pocket and clattered to the floor. She saw Rafe stare at it as if he couldn’t believe the evidence of his own eyes. Without relinquishing his grip, he turned toward her. His eyes burned with flames of ebony.

  “Who are you?” His voice was oddly hushed, at odds with the fury leaping in his eyes.

  She offered him a sad smile. “You know who I am.”

  He held her by the shoulders, his fingers biting into her soft flesh.

  “I know the blade of the Earth Goddess when I see it.” He shook her, yet not with the full force of the anger she knew must be coursing through his body. “And I know that the touch of the stiletto is as deadly to human blood as it is to mine.”

  “But I’m not human.”

  A strange expression flickered over his face. Had it been anyone other than Rafe, Celeste might have believed the emotion bordered on fear. “Your father was human.”

  A chill slithered along Celeste’s spine as she finally realized who Rafe had always thought she was.

  “No.” The whisper was barely audible. She spread her fingers across his chest, feeling the heat from his body, the furnace of his enraged ego. “My daughter’s father was human, Rafe. My daughter is the one you were sent here to destroy.”

  Celeste’s words speared through Rafe, sending him reeling. Yet still he remained immobile, holding her, as if he could never let her go.

  “Your daughter.” The words rasped against his throat. Ice crawled over his skin as he realized the full extent of his failure. The first time he’d ever failed a mission. Manipulating time was fraught with peril. Once the target was located, the altered threads assessed, and the precise moment for elimination detected there was no emergency recourse. The tainted DNA was now in the human bloodstream and, in his own time, Legion was being blackmailed into siding with the narcissistic gods.

  All because he’d been ensnared by this woman’s ethereal beauty.

  Celeste’s angelic face was inches from his own, unflinching, although she must know he could easily destroy her for pure vengeance.

  His hands traced upwards, cupping her face. When Mammon realized Rafe had missed his mark, he’d hunt him down and carve out his soul. He might even banish him to this infernal time indefinitely.

  And without doubt, Mammon would exact blistering retribution against Celeste for thwarting his plan.

  An odd pain twisted through his heart, so unexpected, so intense the breath stumbled in his lungs. Instinctively his fingers tensed, and her delicate bone structure became imprinted upon his palms.

  Celeste was his. It was more than a thought, more than a fleeting whisper of physical satisfaction experienced during the seconds following synapse-exploding-sex.

  It was a certainty. A knowing. An inevitability he could feel surging through his blood, pumping through his heart, and claiming every last dark shadow of his immortal soul.

  No other being possessed the right to touch her. And if any dared harm her he would defend her with all he was and ever had been.

  But none of that answered the one question burning through his brain. “Why didn’t you banish me from this realm when you had the chance?”

  Her golden eyes shimmered with flecks of green and he gazed at her, fascinated despite knowing she was the reason for his eternal damnation. “I couldn’t,” she said simply. “And later—I knew I wouldn’t.”

  “When the moment to alter your daughter’s destiny had passed.” He couldn’t help the edge of bitterness in his voice. “Don’t you know the brat she conceived tonight is responsible for a millennia-long war in the cosmos?” Responsible for dragging Legion into the power struggle between gods and humans?

  Celeste stared at him in obvious shock, as if she hadn’t the first idea what he was talking about. But perhaps she didn’t. Children of the Earth Goddess didn’t time travel, as a rule.

  “Of course she isn’t. Her descendants ensure peace, not war, Rafe. You’re the warmonger. You and the other demons you work with.”

  At last he flung her aside and strode the length of the grim room. For some reason hearing her call him a demon stung, although he shouldn’t be surprised. Dark angels and the Earth Goddess had never enjoyed an amicable relationship. Why wouldn’t she pass her prejudices onto her Children?

  “I don’t know what that goddess bitch has been telling you,” he said, although he certainly had a good idea. “But you do know that she’s as self-serving and mercenary as any of the celestial gods?”

  Celeste marched after him, grabbed his tensed forearm and for an unaccountable reason he allowed her to. “The Great Mother wants only the best for her Children,” she said fiercely.

  “But you aren’t her true Child. You’re half of the Earth and half of the sky.” He couldn’t resist the taunt. It was so clear to him--why had Celeste herself never seen it?

  For a moment he saw the doubt hover in her heavenly eyes. He seized the moment. “She’s used you for her own purposes, Celeste. You can feel that now, can’t you?”

  Before she had the chance to answer, an eerie breeze swept across the room. Candlelight flickered, and before his eyes the familiar outline of a naked, voluptuous woman materialized.

  “Mother,” Celeste said, bowing her head.

  Enraged by that show of reverence, Rafe stepped toward the manipulative old hag. “Fuck you, witch,” he said.

  She smiled, and her gaze dropped to his groin. “Thank you, but no,” she said. “You’ve already served my purpose, Rafe, and most vigorously too, I might add.”

  Arrogant whore. Rafe wrapped his arm around Celeste’s shoulders and pinned her to his side.

  “Whatever you have in mind, you can forget it. I’m taking Celeste with me and there’s nothing you can do to stop us.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of stopping you.” She stepped forward, reached out, and laid her hand across Celeste’s belly. A smile of satisfaction touched her lips. “But that’s beside the point. You can’t leave Earth yet. Not for a few centuries, anyway.”

  “The hell I can’t. I’ll keep Celeste from your clutches and safe from Legion.” For himself,
he wouldn’t bother running or hiding from Mammon’s fury. But for Celeste, he could do both. For eternity, if that’s what it took.

  Celeste stirred, as if waking from a trance. “I’m with child, aren’t I?” She sounded calm. Her words took a second to sink into his brain before he rounded on her, shocked to his core.

  It was his DNA that had entered the human bloodstream. Not tonight, for Celeste wasn’t human—but as the generations unfolded both his blood and hers would taint the species.

  Legion had seen the conception, but only partially interpreted the results.

  “Celeste,” he began, but she pressed one finger across his lips, silencing him.

  “It was my child you needed all along, wasn’t it? Not my grandchild at all.”

  Thrown off balance by the turn of events, Rafe glared at the Earth Mother. She shrugged, as if their concern was unwarranted.

  “I needed both this time around,” she said. “Thirteen generations from you, my Celeste, the descendant of your grown daughter and descendant of the son in your womb will come into their own. Together they will defeat the encroaching darkness.”

  “This time around?” Rafe said, clenching his fists against the overpowering urge to wring the misbegotten creature’s neck. Not that it would harm her. She was as powerful in her own way as the immortals of the cosmos.

  The Earth Mother sighed. “It’s happened before, in the past. And it’s happened again, in the future. It depends on your point of view. I just decided this time I’d give fate a little helping hand.” She looked over at Celeste and her face softened. “I knew you would be unable to resist a taste of the forbidden, if only for one fleeting moment. And the only hope of ensnaring the complete focus of a dark angel is to tempt him with a child of the stars. Forgive me, Celeste, for not telling you of your heritage before.”

  “Ensnaring?” Rafe could barely articulate the word, his rage was so great. To think that he had been so easily tricked by this base Earth Goddess appalled him.

  And Celeste, this shining creature who had somehow meshed with him at a primeval, molecular level, was born of the gods of heaven and this goddess of the Earth—two immortal races he despised most.