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Nemesis: Paranormal Angel Romance (Realm of Flame and Shadow Book 2) Page 7
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Page 7
“Never,” she said.
“Take this damn dress off.” His voice was raw with need. “Before I rip it off you with my teeth.”
She flashed him a grin as she took a step back and gripped the hem of her dress. “I’d like to see you try.”
Before he could respond she pulled the dress over her head and flung it across the floor. His eyes smoldered and there was no need for words when his look said it all.
Thrilled by his reaction she planted her hands on her waist and very slightly tilted her hips. The black and silver corset she’d bought earlier that day—along with the rest of her outfit—was simple, elegant and utterly decadent.
She’d never worn anything like it before. But the thought of wearing it for Azrael had hooked into her mind and not let go. And now, seeing the way he couldn’t tear his gaze from her, she preened with delight.
“Do you want to rip this off with your teeth?” She tugged provocatively at a silver ribbon as she backed up another couple of steps. “Or do you want to watch me strip for your pleasure?”
He moved so fast she was stunned into silence. They were so close her breasts grazed his chest with every ragged breath she took.
“You can strip for me later.” It was a hoarse command. “Enchantress.”
She wasn’t sure whether it was an endearment or curse. Did it even matter? Before she could think of a suitable response, he swept her into his arms and strode towards the bed.
She clung onto his neck, heart ricocheting against her ribs. It had been years since anyone had picked her up like this. Not since she was a small child.
It was intoxicating. He made her feel fragile and vulnerable. As if she was truly a human woman without a secret life.
He lowered her onto the bed then tossed his shirt across the floor. As he kicked off his pants her gaze drifted from his face to drink in the magnificent sight of his broad shoulders, naked chest and taut stomach. He was built like a powerful god from antiquity. Bronzed, perfectly sculpted and completely irresistible.
“Enjoying the view?” His voice was raw with need but shot through with amusement as though her avid scrutiny pleased his ego.
“Yes.” The word was little more than a croak as her heated gaze fastened on his glorious cock. Never had she seen such an enticing sight. The room blurred, and all that existed was Azrael standing before her like a proud unabashed god of pure desire.
“So am I.” His intense gaze raked along the length of her body, and flames smoldered beneath her skin as though he branded her on a cellular level. Her heart hammered erratically as he focused on her wet sex, barely concealed by the whisper of black lace that passed for modesty. He knelt at her feet, tugged the flimsy material along her legs and eased her thighs apart.
“Beautiful.” His voice was husky and soaked into her like potent whiskey. “Your scent is driving me out of my mind.”
“Azrael.” His name was a seductive aphrodisiac on her tongue. She speared her fingers through his dark hair, urging him closer, silently begging for something she hadn’t craved in seven years.
The tip of his tongue teased her swollen lips. She gasped, gripped him harder and tried desperately not to buck beneath him. She felt him smile, his teeth grazing her sensitized flesh. Then his tongue licked over her clit, a caress of sheer hedonistic delight and her last shreds of self-control incinerated.
“I want you.” It was a hoarse command and she wound his hair around her fingers and pulled him up. He swallowed, savoring her taste. It was so damned arousing she’d come if he so much as licked his lips. “God, Azrael, I need you inside me right now.”
He kneed her thighs farther apart and planted his hands on the bed either side of her shoulders. His dark hair tumbled in wonderful disarray and she hooked her booted ankles around his waist.
Something nudged her lust-fogged brain. With a frustrated groan she dragged one hand from his head and fumbled down the side of her boot. Where the hell was it?
“Are you all right?” His raw whisper flayed her senses. “Do you want to take your boots off? What’s—”
She gave a grunt and yanked the packet from her boot. He eyed the pack of condoms as if she’d just whipped a cobra from her corset.
“Here,” she panted. “Do you want to do the honors or shall I?”
For a second she had the oddest feeling he’d never been in such a position before. But that was mad. No one with a sliver of sense would have a one-night stand without using protection. Before that worrying thought could take hold, he shot her a manic grin.
“Be my guest.” He rolled off her and sprawled on his back, and she ripped open the packet without taking her gaze from his massive cock. Her mouth watered. God, he was big.
With shaking fingers, she eased the sheath over the slick head of his cock. It was so tempting to wrap her hand around him, to explore his heavy balls, to taste and lick but if she did that he’d come. And then she’d have to wait ages before he was ready for her again and all she wanted right now was to fuck him so hard the world exploded.
His hand tangled in her hair as she labored over her task. “Is this some form of torture you’ve devised?” His voice rasped in the heated air. “Is it supposed to be this tight?”
She rolled back onto her knees and admired her handiwork. The condom reached nowhere near his root but hopefully it wouldn’t pop off at an awkward moment.
“So long as it’s not interfering with your blood flow.” She couldn’t tear her fascinated gaze away from him. Even encased in the luminous orange latex he was beyond outstanding.
He muttered something in a language she didn’t recognize and then, so swiftly it took her breath away, he reversed their positions.
“Got anything else hidden down those boots?” He loomed over her, biceps straining as he braced his weight on his hands. She scrawled her fingernails over them, thrilling at the way his flesh tensed at her touch.
“I might have.” No way was she telling him about the strategically concealed stiletto. She wrapped her legs around his hips, but he refused to obey her unspoken demand. “Azrael. What are you waiting for?” She was begging and she didn’t care. Because they only had one night together, and she didn’t want to waste a single moment of it in needless suspense.
His cock nudged her wet entrance and she sucked in a sharp breath. It had been so long since she’d had sex. Why was he taking so long about it? If he didn’t hurry up, then to hell with his masculine pride. She’d pin him to the bed and ride him until she fried his brains.
His smile all but fried her brains. “Are you sure you’re ready for me?”
Despite her frustration, laughter bubbled. “Don’t worry. Your ego isn’t that big. I’m sure I can manage anything you throw my way.”
“Ouch.” With infuriating self-restraint, he refused to succumb to her desperate wriggles. “Remember you said that.”
She hooked her ankles around his waist and gripped his tight butt. His killer smile vanished, and he gritted his teeth, still fighting to maintain control.
But she wanted him out of control. She slid her finger over his butt and his pupils dilated, obliterating the last sliver of iris. He growled something unintelligible and then thrust inside her, so suddenly that for a second reality ceased to exist.
“F-fuck,” she gasped, her nails tearing into his taut butt. He filled her so completely, she wasn’t sure if she could even breathe anymore.
“Yes.” The word was feral. But he didn’t move, just remained locked inside her, giving her time to adjust to his absolute penetration. “You still with me?”
She hitched in a ragged breath, her mind reeling, as she attempted to unlock her rigid muscles. “Your ego is bigger than I first thought.”
He laughed out loud. Entranced, she gazed at his perfect face that could surely make angels weep.
She would remember this moment for the rest of her life.
“You’re exquisite.” Slowly he raised his hips, and the sensual friction against her clit sent spears of ligh
tning through her tender flesh. “You feel like hot liquid silk around me.”
No one had said anything like that to her before. It was only sex talk, but thrills of pleasure sparked through her heart, regardless. Experimentally she tightened her internal muscles and he let out a groan of ecstasy.
“Rowan.” He sounded tortured. “Gods, you’re pushing me to the edge.”
“I want you at the edge.” She had no idea how she managed to gasp the words aloud. “I want to push you over the edge.”
His thrusts became frenzied. He hammered her into the bed, and she lost all sense of time or place. There was only Azrael. Only this moment. Only this mind-blowing, incredible connection.
The thunder of her blood pounded in her head, a frantic counterpoint to the erratic staccato of her heart. She met each demanding slide of his cock. Savored each rasping gasp. Reveled in every tiny ripple that licked through her senses.
Her climax shattered through her, fierce and primal, like nothing she’d experienced before. And as sanity receded, Azrael’s hoarse roar of release echoed through her mind and catapulted her from the precipice.
Chapter 9
Azrael
Azrael collapsed on top of Rowan. His lungs seared with the effort of dragging in air and he was still deeply embedded inside her glorious body. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d had sex but gods. He couldn’t recall it ever feeling this damn great.
It was an effort to raise his head. The curve where her neck met her shoulder was so deliciously enticing. But he was no lightweight and she was only a human. He didn’t want to crush her.
Although she’d surprised him with the iron-like grip around his back. If he’d been human, he would’ve been in danger of a couple of cracked ribs. Last night in the club he’d never guessed she possessed such hidden strength, and it was a gratifying revelation.
He braced his weight on his forearms and looked down at her. Her long, dark lashes fluttered over her eyes, hiding their expression. Her cheeks were flushed, and her midnight hair spread over the ivory pillows in enticing disarray. Her corset concealed and revealed in equal delectable measure, and he was torn between leaving it on her and ripping it off. But there was no denying how it accentuated the curves of her body. The swell of her breasts rose and fell with every erratic breath, the valley of her cleavage an irresistible challenge yet to be conquered.
He eased out of her and lay on his side, head propped on his hand. A flicker of guilt burned through him. He’d used her more roughly than he’d intended. It didn’t matter that she’d urged him on or matched him thrust for thrust. The last thing he’d wanted to do was hurt her, but he’d lost control. There was no excuse. She was strong, but she was still mortal.
She opened her eyes and looked at him. Never had a woman’s gaze so entranced him.
“You’re still awake.” He couldn’t tell whether that was censure or surprise in her voice. “I thought you would’ve passed out after that.”
“I never pass out after sex.” He shifted his hand to her thigh. “Are you okay?”
“I’m perfectly okay.” Her voice was a seductive purr as her fingers traced over his chest and circled his nipple. Distracted, he followed her gaze along the length of his body and caught sight of a lurid orange thing hanging off his cock.
Before tonight, he’d never used a condom. Archangels neither caught nor transmitted infections. And as a form of contraception it was redundant. Archangels had been genetically designed to be incapable of procreation. Just because some, in the distant past, had managed to conceive the beloved Nephilim was irrelevant.
Conception required an archangel to fall. He never had. And he didn’t intend to.
Not because of his cursed goddess’ edict. It was because to fall required trust. And there was no way in hell he’d trust anyone but a handful of archangels again.
Since he couldn’t share any of that with Rowan, he’d gone along with the whole condom fiasco.
“Why don’t you get rid of that?” She glanced at the offending item. And then flicked the tip of her tongue across his nipple.
His cock jerked with anticipation and he grabbed a wad of tissues from the bedside table. Seriously, this side of things had never occurred to him when he’d picked up Rowan.
But it was a small price to pay if it eased her mind. They had all night and this time he’d take it slow. He’d worship her body the way he’d wanted to earlier. Hear her scream his name as she—
She gripped his shoulders and shoved him onto his back. How did she do that? Before he even managed to catch his breath, she straddled him, knees pressed against his hips, hands still clamped on his shoulders. Her smile was wickedly decadent, and her hair tumbled over her shoulders like a midnight waterfall.
He speared his fingers through her hair and luxuriated in the sensation of her teeth and tongue and lips on his flesh. If she wanted to be in charge that was fine by him.
As she worked her way down his body the ribbons and lace of her corset teased with tantalizing promise of what he had yet to discover. Next time he’d strip her first. There was still plenty of time for him to do everything to her that he intended.
She sat on his thighs, a delightful distraction in black and silver, her stockings an erotic whisper against his flesh. He could do without those damn boots though.
Carefully, as though she imagined he might break, she cupped his heavy balls. He choked back another groan and dug his fingers into her lace-covered flesh. The heat from the palm of her hand sank into him, tensing muscles and tightening the need. Yet for all her confidence when it came to sex, she handled him with a strange air of innocence.
She rose onto her knees and leaned over him. Her cleavage mocked him, laced into that devastating corset, and he palmed her delectable ass as she fiddled with something beyond his shoulder.
He should have guessed. She held a violently purple condom between her finger and thumb, and he was torn between biting out a curse or a laugh.
Luckily, she didn’t appear to notice.
“Won’t be a sec.” She snaked down his body and her hot breath panted across his groin as she began her task.
He clenched his fists as she eased the condom over his swollen head. Damn, it was torture feeling her hands on him and seeing the look of awestruck concentration on her lovely face. Her lips were parted and all he had to do was buck his hips and his cock would slide inside her wet mouth.
“Rowan, you’re killing me.” He collapsed onto the pillow as she nibbled kisses around the base of his cock, one hand gripping his erection in a satisfyingly tight embrace.
Her teeth grazed his sensitized flesh as she smiled, and then a chill whispered over his damp skin as she rose onto her knees. She flattened her hands onto his chest, and her eyes were more black than green.
“Wouldn’t want that.” Her voice was uneven, and a growl rumbled in his throat as she hovered over his throbbing shaft. “Are you sure you’re ready for me?”
Despite his discomfort he managed a feral grin at how she so artlessly tossed his own words back at him. “You’re the expert on my ego. What do you think?”
Her smile was a captivating enigma of sultry seductress and disarming innocence, and fascination beat a heady tattoo through the lust that consumed him.
“I think you’re more than ready for me,” she gasped as she sank down the length of his shaft, and the sensation damn near turned him blind.
He cradled her breasts, her corset a feast for his senses and when she tensed her internal muscles, starlight exploded in the back of his mind.
“Ride me, Rowan.” It was a hoarse command, and she sank onto him, all the way, taking him up to the hilt. Such exquisite pleasure he all but came right then.
“Like this?” She sat back, black hair tumbling over her shoulders, eyes dark with passion and her lips provocatively parted. She looked like a goddess about to devour her prey. The image scalded his senses.
“Harder.” It was a raw demand. “Faster.”
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Her thighs tensed as she braced her weight but as she slid back down his cock, he bucked into her with such force she fell forward. She gave a breathless laugh, hands flattened against his chest, and matched him. The world became an unfocused blur and all he could see, all he could feel, was Rowan as she rode him as though her life depended on it.
Her bewitching gasps filled his mind and as her tight sheath convulsed around him, the little control he’d managed to cling onto shattered.
With a primal growl he came violently, blood pounding in his temples, lifting them both off the bed in a ferocious thrust. She sprawled in delicious abandon across his heaving chest.
He couldn’t speak. Could scarcely think. So he just held her close, as their hearts thundered and breath shuddered in lingering ecstatic bliss.
Idly he played with her hair, twisting her curls around his finger and admiring the rich midnight hue. She raised her head and smiled down at him. She looked delightfully disheveled, and his suddenly insatiable ego swelled with pleasure. Gods, he was certainly making up for lost time tonight.
She lowered her head. He caressed her naked thighs and sexy stockings and waited for her kiss.
A knock on the door echoed through the room and before he could move a muscle Rowan catapulted off him like a streak of lightning.
He discarded the human protection, swung off the bed and wrapped his arms around her. She was practically vibrating with tension and he pulled her back against his chest. Who did she think was at the door?
Arms still around her, he walked her to the bathroom and grabbed a towel and bathrobe before draping the robe over her shoulders.
“It’s room service,” he breathed into her ear. “Aren’t you hungry?”
She blinked at him. “Room service?”
He knotted the bath towel around his hips, shot her a salacious grin and opened the door. The waiter wheeled in the trolley, laid the table and left, all without so much as giving Rowan a sideways glance.
“I arranged it back in Estella’s.” While she’d been in the bathroom, he’d not only paid off their bill. He’d persuaded the manager to contact the hotel and relay their exact order. He pulled out a chair. “I invited you to dinner, Rowan. I’d hate to see you go without.”