Chapter 17
17
Ramone
Lava poured through my veins. Thick, viscous fluid enflamed the cells that had gathered together to form this body of mine, right down to the mitochondria. It tore through me, tinging my aura. I literally saw red.
Matthew had his hands on the goddess—well, one hand, but it was all the same. He touched what was mine, claiming her with what was designed to appear innocent, the palm of his hand and the flesh of his fingers sweetly brushing the silk of her skin. She couldn’t see it, I didn’t believe, but his lust swirled around her, pungent and musky, violating her on a spiritual level that was solely mine to assault.
A smile crinkled the skin around my eyes when I spotted her compliance. The band of gold and shining gemstones glistened along her collarbone, one jewel dipped into the valley between her breasts, artfully supported by the exquisite cut of her gown. The urge to signal my approval washed over me, the compulsion to give her a little surprise between her creamy thighs from across the room tingled through my fingers. Only the disgusting presence of the archangel halted the motion, and at the very thought of him, murder replaced the essence of lust swirling around me.
The man’s attention startled, the shift near imperceptible. Scanning the room, he spotted me. A range of emotions trailed through his countenance while he sought an alternative route. There was none, he was trapped. My long legs propelled me forward, seeking my target, my lips tilting into a smirk.
I knew just what to do.
“Ramone,” Matthew greeted me, delicately modulating his voice. I replied, voicing his name and meeting his eyes before switching my gaze.
“Samantha,” I said, momentarily transfixed by her cerulean eyes, fascination swirling in their depths. The desire to drag her into my arms pulled at me, but I refrained. If I touched her, I'd never let her go and now was not the place, and most certainly not the time. Not yet. It was hard enough not to stare impolitely.
Her aura shifted around her; the sunlight-toned sparkles suspended like mist. With pleasure I noticed they leaned toward my own and hadn’t leaned toward the angel a single time I was aware of. Schooling my features, I shoved my arrogance down. Matthew stared at me, waiting for something. I didn’t know what to say and then I remembered my manners.
“Good to see you, Matthew,” I said, directing a current of energy toward his crotch. Fury distorted his features as he slid his arm away from the thing of beauty by his side. A tentative step forward and he stopped, the front of his pants bulging impressively. The lump spasmed and a bleach-like scent filled the air. Matthew’s eyes transformed to ice, a promise for the future delivered to me in his violent gaze.
“Matthew?” Samantha’s voice interrupted the moment. She somehow missed noticing what I’d done to her date below his belt and was watching his face.
“I’ll be back in a moment,” he reassured her. He pressed a kiss to her temple while angling his torso away, her eyes widening in surprise at his touch. I think I growled.
Stepping closer to my very own angel, my lips parted. Her shining eyes met mine and it took all my restraint, a second time, not to gather her in my embrace. “We have the books you asked for, that time you were in my shop,” she offered. “Some of them.”
She thought of me. A fissure of pleasure ran through me, stopping to pierce my heart. “Thank you, I will be by for them.”
She gave me an apologetic smile. “You don’t look like someone interested in the subject of those books.”
“What would you think I’d be interested in?” If she only knew.
Her long finger pressed her lower lip while she appraised me. My blood pulsed, seeking her approval.
“History, I’d expect,” she replied after several seconds.
Like two magnets drawn to each other, we drifted closer. “That is a subject I study extensively. What do you like to read for pleasure?” I already knew, having searched every corner of her home for every tiny hint, object, and detail that made her, her.
She laughed lightly, lifting her hand. “Oh, that wouldn’t interest you, it’s silly books for women.”
I knew, I’d seen the scandalous titles—titles that weren’t truly scandalous in this day and age. She flushed, presumably considering the genres and tropes she indulged in, while praying I didn’t push her further.
“I’m interested in everything about you,” I told her. Pink tinged her cheeks as her aura deepened, gathering around her midsection, and I clasped her hand, unable to resist any further. “What is it you want the most?”
She glanced up at me. “To be free.” She flushed and tilted her head down, seeming embarrassed at her honesty.
Giving her a small smile, I replied, “It would appear we want the same thing.”
“I don’t quite live up to expectations,” she remarked. “But such is life.”
Samantha looked uncomfortable for a moment. “You live up to mine,” I reassured her.
“What did you mean when you told me I’d be free soon?” She referred to the day in her shop when I’d instructed her not to carry love talismans.
Trying to think of something acceptable to say, I watched her closely, noting the curiosity in her gaze. She tried to dampen her eager countenance, but I saw it. “Have you ever been subject to parental expectations? I suspect you have.” I already knew the answer, having done my research. Her parents had her entire life planned out.
Samantha’s eyes widened. “Yes, very much so. Its stifling.” She appeared regretful for a moment. “My parents are fantastic, though. I don’t mean to criticize.”
“You are blessed. My father is Satan himself and his expectations are wholly unreasonable.”
She laughed. “I highly doubt your father is that bad.” She paused a moment, deep in thought. “I don’t want the life my parents have planned. I’m going to suffocate.”
“I don’t want the life my father has planned for me either. What do you really want? If you could do anything, what would it be?”
A conspiratorial look filled her gaze as she leaned closer to me. “To scream really loud when I’m not supposed to.” She giggled. “Just act out. Everyone is so contrived and fake.” She straightened her back and shrugged her shoulder.
This time I leaned toward her, brushing my lips against her ear. “I can make you scream.” She flushed, a light blush scattering across her gorgeous features, her very aura tinting pink around her midsection. I couldn’t wait to coax her screams.
This was where she belonged, her hand in mine, standing by my side. Gently, I tugged her to me, her eyes lighting on my own, pupils dilated, her energy pulsing. The longing in my soul tore at me, no longer content with the singular night in her room. I wanted her fully conscious, fully aware of me, begging for my cock, dripping wet with love and lust and at my mercy while I possessed her, over and over, for the rest of our eternal lives. I could set her free, I would set her free.
I gently inhaled her sweet scent. Her lips parted as she watched me, anxious over what I might do, anticipating my next move, but not stopping me. My fingers clasped her shoulder, my hair brushed her cheek. If I’d thought I could get away with it, I’d take her right here, right now, and publicly.
Flicking my gaze up, I saw Matthew closing in, a warning in his eyes. I sent him a smirk and leaned down; my lips pressed tightly to Samantha’s ear. “I’m only going to say this once—stay away from Matthew.”
Samantha peered up at me in shock, pupils still blown wide. She glanced over her shoulder and shuddered, watching the archangel return to her side. Straightening my cuffs, I arched a brow at the man and turned on my heel, leaving the two of them alone. One with soaked panties, the other with a now-damp suit. Both outcomes filled me with satisfaction.
Pinpricks of awareness swirled around me, my love’s gaze tracking me as I walked away. Matthew would learn, and quickly. He now knew I’d claimed the woman. He’d committed similar acts against Alastair in the past. The asshole was confoundingly unable to find his own female for whatever reason and resorted to making attempts on other’s property.
Not able to help myself, I cast a glance back at the non-couple just to see the man’s arm curl around her waist. An unreadable expression crossed Samantha’s face when she felt the pressure of my gaze and met my eyes. She didn’t brush him away. My fingernails dug into the palms of my hands, the skin breaking and my breath catching. The lights flickered and dimmed as my heart split in two.
We shared a moment—she wanted me. I’d felt it. I’d tasted it; our combined longing had shimmered in the ether surrounding us. What had changed? She’d suddenly closed off, shut down the connection, and chose the fucking archangel instead of me.
Adam was waiting outside with the car, the door held open. He then shut it behind me without uttering a sentence, beyond used to my devolving emotional state by now. I poured myself a drink, tossing it into the back of my throat without a taste, without the savoring a five-hundred-year-old whiskey required. The tumbler shattered against the dividing glass while I shook with rage. A quick message tapped onto the screen changed the direction of the car.
Not waiting for Adam’s assistance, I shoved the car door open and flicked my fingers at the front door. It popped open, awaiting my entrance. She’d bared her soul to me, and then promptly chose another man.
I entered her living room, snatching the roses out of the vase. I could’ve destroyed them with barely a glance, but this situation necessitated a more personal touch. Every fiber was ripped from every stem, every petal torn from every bud, every seed of my anger poured out into the destruction of the eighteen carefully cultivated and specifically chosen blossoms I had purchased for her.
Yes, purchased. I wasn’t a complete animal.
Exhaling, I admired the decimation of the bouquet with satisfaction, the organic matter spread across her once pristine flooring. Then I left, but not before an odd dampness once again interfered with my vision.