Her Avenging Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 7) (26 page)

She lowered her left hand and cupped him through his loincloth. A husky moan escaped him at the same time as she loosed a groan of her own. He was hard beneath the black material, as solid as stone. The feel of him had heat pooling in her belly and swirling lower, towards the apex of her thighs. She bit her lip and rubbed him through the material, unable to stop herself from stroking his steely length, wanting to feel every inch of him and know that he would be inside her again before long, filling her and intimately connecting them once more.

She wanted to rush to the finish line but found the strength to hold herself back. Patience was apparently a virtue. She wasn’t sure she had ever been big on virtues but she could learn to embrace them if it would draw out the pleasure of this moment with him.

Lysia palmed him one more time before tearing herself away and shifting closer to him. He groaned as they came into contact and tilted his head back, exposing the strong curve of his neck and his Adam’s apple. It bobbed as he swallowed and she couldn’t resist dropping her head and licking it, tearing another moan from him.

“Lysia,” he husked, raw need edging his deep voice, and she gave in to him, rocking her hips against his hard length to give them both a brief burst of pleasure.

His fingers pressed into her backside and he growled. “Time to make these go away.”

Her shorts, sandals and top disappeared. She gasped and then moaned as he growled again, a deep rumble of appreciation as he raked his hot gaze over her body. The hunger and need swirling in his violet-edged green eyes sent heat coursing through her body and left her feeling empowered.

She leaned back, giving him a better view of her bare body. He sank his fangs into his lower lip, a ravenous look settling on his handsome face, and frowned as he tugged her hips towards him. She threw her head back and moaned as her bare flesh came into contact with his, the barriers between them gone.

He rubbed her against him, rocking her core up and down his hard length, and she arched her back, thrusting her bare breasts up into the air as she tangled her hands in her hair and gave herself over to his command. A feral snarl filled the cave and a thrill chased through her, the wicked and raw sound of his hunger stoking her desire and making her burn at a thousand degrees, until she felt sure she would melt in the intense heat blazing between them.

The first sweep of his moist tongue across her stomach tore a gasp from her. The second had her moaning his name and on the verge of begging for more. He kissed a path over her flesh, rocking her against him the whole time, driving her out of her mind with need.

She wanted to tell him to go slow, to let her stroke him with her tongue and learn more about his body and the pleasure she could wring from it, but she couldn’t find her voice as he sucked her left nipple into his mouth. Sparks skittered over her skin from the centre of her breast. Each swirl of this tongue or scrape of his fangs across her sensitive flesh had her squirming against him, hot all over and slick with need.

She couldn’t take any more.

She grabbed his shoulders, shoved him hard against the cave wall, and rose off him. His gaze devoured hers, all violet now and filled with fire and hunger, need that she knew she could satisfy and that burned within her too.

Lysia swooped on his mouth, determined to master him this time. His hands tightened against her hips and he tried to bring her back into contact with him. She tensed, denying him and making him wait. He growled and she swept her tongue across his lips, so the snarl ended on a moan. He opened for her and she delved her tongue inside, tangling it with his as she fought him for dominance.

Claws pressed into her bare buttocks.

Her own had emerged the moment she had kissed him, brought out by the depth of her need and her desire to keep him where he was, trapped beneath her and at her mercy.

She kissed him and threaded the fingers of her left hand into his white hair, holding him in place against her mouth as she skimmed her right hand to his chest and his stomach. He tensed, his hips jerking upwards off the padded mattress as she wrapped her fingers around his velvet and steel length.

“Lysia,” he moaned and she echoed him, her body crying out for her to take this to the next level.

She needed him inside her again, one with her.

She needed it with a desperation that astounded her, as if she would die if she didn’t get him inside her soon.

She palmed his length, ripping another moan from him that had him tilting his head back and flashing clenched fangs.

He looked beautiful like that, feral and dangerous, as desperate for her as she was for him.

She rubbed the sensitive crown of his cock down her to her core and slowly seated herself on him, taking him into her at an excruciating pace that had him pressing the back of his head into the black cave wall and growling as he dug his claws into her backside.

Every inch of him tensed and the sight of her powerful warrior in all his glory stirred her desire, sending it swirling higher, until she could no longer control herself and surrendered to her feelings and her needs.

She sank down onto him and rose again, and he guided her on him, moaning in time with her and each long stroke. Divine. She grasped his hair and tugged his mouth back to hers, pouring out her passion as she rode him, increasing her pace until he was thrusting into her on each down stroke, sending her soaring higher into the stratosphere, shooting towards the stars.

He grunted with each hard meeting of their hips, each deep thrust of his cock forcing a moan from her throat, one that he swallowed in a kiss that left her feeling there was no place where they weren’t connected.

The mark on her chest surfaced and his mirrored it, shining brightly and washing them with purple light.

She clutched his head and screwed her face up as her belly tightened, her thighs trembling against his as she bounced on him and he thrust into her, a wild coupling that she couldn’t bring back under control. Need drove her and she was a slave to it, searching for the push she needed to tumble over the edge into bliss.

Nevar growled as she ran her tongue down his left fang and shoved her away. She didn’t let him make her stop, not as she knew he wanted to. She grabbed his shoulders, slammed him back against the wall and kissed him again, licking his fangs. They grew longer, sharp daggers that stirred a fierce ache inside her, a dark hunger to feel them penetrating her flesh, joining them in the ultimate way.

She wanted to bite him too. She wanted his rich blood flowing into her body and strengthening their connection.

His fangs grew longer and his guttural groan told her everything he would never voice. He wanted to bite her too. He hungered for it with the same intensity that she did.

His fight ended here and now.

He wanted to bite her and she would show him that it was all right. He was allowed to want it. He was allowed to do it. She would never deny him anything, and he should never deny himself anything either.

She kissed along his jaw on his left side and he stilled, his hands tensing against her bottom. She kept rocking on him, riding his rigid length, as she swept her lips over his earlobe and sucked it into her mouth.

She released it with a ‘pop’ and whispered into his ear, “It’s okay, Nevar… if you want to bite me… because I want it… and I want to bite you too.”

He groaned and banged the back of his head against the wall.

She placed her hand behind his head to cushion it and stop him, and kissed down his neck.

“I’m not forcing you… but if you want to feed, you can… just a sip.” She nicked his throat with her fang and licked the bead of blood that blossomed there. “It only takes a sip to strengthen our connection. See?”

She wrapped her lips around the cut and gently sucked it, drawing a small amount from him. He shuddered and groaned, his hips thrusting frantically, driving him into her and sending tingly shivers blasting through her. Their connection deepened, growing stronger. It was in their blood. It had to be. She had never been sure how she was linked to him but she was now. They were connected through blood. It was the reason their bond grew stronger when she drank from his vein.

“Lysia,” he whispered and clutched her closer. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She smiled against his throat, sensing the fear locked deep within his heart, glad that she could chase this one away for him, and the one he refused to voice.

“It will feel good to me. You won’t spoil me with your bite, Nevar… you could never spoil me. I don’t care what you did in the past… what is happening between us is different. I want you to bite me… I want to make you stronger.”

He groaned and pushed her back, away from his throat, and stared deep into her eyes. The myriad of emotions colliding in his made her stop moving on him and she cupped his cheeks in her palms. Her powerful warrior. He looked as if he was breaking inside. Why?

“I don’t deserve this.” Those four words brought pain to the surface of his violet eyes and she shook her head to deny him.

“I told you before. There has never been anyone more worthy of me than you, Nevar.”

He closed his eyes and she cursed him. She wasn’t going to let him argue with her about this. He wanted to bite her and feed from her vein, and wanted to strengthen the connection between them. She wanted him to bite her and wanted to make him stronger.

She wasn’t above using devious tactics to lure him into surrendering to her either.

Lysia ran her hands upwards, over his cheekbones, and into his mussed silver-white hair. He frowned at her and opened his mouth as if to speak.

It snapped shut on a groan as she feathered her fingertips over the two small horns protruding from just above his ears.

When she stroked them harder, he grunted, growled, grabbed her hips and slammed into her, tearing a gasp from her.

“Give me what I want,” she husked and his violet eyes shot open, zeroing in on hers. His firm lips parted to reveal his long fangs. She moaned and rocked on him, slowly rising off his length before shoving back down and taking him as deep as he could go. “Take what you want.”

His violet gaze leaped to her throat and the cave swept past her in a blur as he twisted with her, taking her down onto the padded cushion, and she cried out as he sank his fangs into her throat. Exquisite pain arced down her shoulder and up over her head as his teeth sank deeper. He grasped her left shoulder in one hand and her hip in the other and drove home, thrusting wildly as he sucked down the first mouthful of her blood.

Lysia threw her head back and moaned as she surrendered to him, hazy bliss running through her veins and threatening to take her far out of her mind. Out of her body.

She tunnelled her fingers into his hair and held on to him as he drank from her, each pull on her blood sending fire shooting through her body that collided with the heat swirling in her tightening belly. She wriggled frantically, clenching him as he thrust into her, aching with a fierce need to find release before she completely lost her mind.

He drew another mouthful of her blood that had her feeling as if it was all rushing through her veins to him and plunged into her, bringing their bodies back into contact, and she cried out as the tight knot in her stomach unravelled, sending heat flashing through her and her thighs tingling and quivering. Her core clenched him, the hot shivers rushing outwards from it as she trembled around him.

He grunted into her neck and grasped her hip, digging his claws in, and thrust home. His cock throbbed, each pulse discordant to the quivering of her body, his hot seed flowing into her. He pulled his fangs from her throat and lapped at the wound, breathing hard against her moist skin.

Lysia trembled from head to toe, feeling as if she was floating as bliss danced through her veins and the connection between her and Nevar grew stronger.

He settled on top of her, kissing her throat and murmuring quiet things to her in the demon tongue, words she understood because she felt them in her heart too. What he felt was more than the result of their bond with each other. It ran deeper in his veins than blood. It consumed all of him as it consumed her and neither of them could live without it now.

Neither of them could live without the other.

Somehow, he had become a part of her, as vital as the organ thundering against her breast, trying to break free and leap to him, and she knew that she had become vital to him too.

Lysia stroked his sweat-slicked back, her fingers trembling as much as he was beneath their touch, and cradled him to her, her gaze on the ceiling but her sight turned inwards towards her heart and the feelings growing inside it.

Feelings she had never experienced before.

One question echoed in her mind. One question she wasn’t brave enough to voice and hear his answer.

Was this love?

L
ysia kissed down Nevar’s spine as he lay on his front on the dark padded mat in the cave, his handsome face softened in sleep. She stroked the tangled threads of his white-silver hair from his brow and studied his face, absorbing his masculine beauty. She hadn’t been able to sleep. The nightmares had returned and she had awoken in a cold sweat, afraid that the angels would find them and take her while she was vulnerable.

With her other hand, she caressed the marks he had placed on her throat, and looked at the ones she had placed on his. They had exchanged blood after making love and she had told him her theory about their bond. He had agreed with her and also believed that their connection was somehow in their blood, and they were more than master and servant. He thought that they were more like partners, two halves of one whole, each tempering the other. She liked that theory, and the way he had looked at her as he had said it, with something akin to affection in his green eyes.

She leaned over him again and traced the intricate swirls of the wings inked onto his back.

They were large, covering both of his shoulders, including the vertical twin ridges of scar tissue where his wings hid. She could feel the magic in them, laced with great sorrow and regret. The two emotions were Nevar’s, carried on his back for eternity, woven into the spell. He hated himself for what he had done to the witch who had given him this spell.