Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
I f Haven had expected Roan to sit down with her after the big staff meeting (the worst of her life, if she was being honest) and finally, finally, finally talk to her about their extremely weird relationship, she would’ve been disappointed. But since she had expected him to once again avoid her like she was a ditch-able prom date, she was just…numb.
They didn’t say anything to each other on the way to his place to grab his go-bag. Didn’t say anything on the way to her house. Didn’t say anything when he dumped his bag in her guest room, and she went to take the longest, hottest shower known to man.
And now, squeaky clean and fully moisturized, wearing her favorite flannel sleep shorts and Stevie Nicks tank top, hair in a messy bun, fluffy rainbow-colored slippers on her feet, she was ready to cocoon herself in the cashmere throw Lane had given her as a birthday gift, watch some mindless reality TV, and forget the outside world existed. Then, if she had any luck left in this life, she’d fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.
But as she padded toward her kitchen for a glass of water, she discovered her dreams of avoiding her problems for the night were just that—dreams. Because her reality involved a brooding, annoyingly attractive, shirtless demon that was hunkered down at her kitchen table, nursing a tall glass of scotch.
And judging by how much of the bottle was gone and how much she knew she hadn’t consumed, she’d say he was several tall glasses into a binge.
Without a word or a glance in her direction, he downed his glass, refilled it, and shoved it across the table toward her.
Well, OK. I guess we’re talking about this now .
With a sigh, Haven took a seat at the table across from him and sipped her scotch. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and waited, because she’d be damned if she was going to start this conversation. It was his damn turn to talk for once.
He held out his hand. “Show me what you remember from that night.”
She didn’t need to ask what night he was talking about. That night had wrecked nearly every aspect of her life ever since. So, she grabbed his hand and psychically transmitted everything she remembered about the night she died.
He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as her memories flooded him. Their team entering the abandoned warehouse. Working in formation to clear the place. The demon appearing in front of her and hitting her with the full force of his power. Roan screaming her name, searing pain, then…blackness. Until she opened her eyes two-ish minutes later to find him hovering over her, his face drawn with a combination of panic, relief, and guilt. To her, in that moment, he looked like he’d aged a decade within the span of those minutes. Then she passed out, and when she woke up again, she was in the Section 8 infirmary. A nurse told her she’d been lucky. But she hadn’t felt lucky, because Roan was gone.
It wasn’t much. But it was all she remembered. He let go of her hand to grab more scotch. He skipped the glass this time and went straight for the bottle, downing what remained in two deep swallows.
When he was done, he took a deep breath, and his haunted gaze caught hers. After the longest pause ever, he said, “It took me four seconds to get to you. Four. That’s all. That four seconds was the difference between life and death. Your heart stopped as soon as he hit you.”
She’d never heard this part of the story before. When she woke up in the infirmary, her parents told her the demon that’d hit her was dead. She’d never asked what had happened to him. But watching the colors in Roan’s aura shifting, she knew. “You killed him,” she said quietly.
He looked down at his hands as if he could still see the demon’s blood on them. “The rest of the team subdued him while I did CPR on you. Once you were breathing again, I ripped his heart out.”
She swallowed hard. There was more. His guilt wasn’t caused by killing a rogue demon. And suddenly, it all started to make sense. “It wasn’t CPR that brought me back, was it?”
“No. It wasn’t.”
“You used your demon energy to save me, didn’t you?”
His tormented eyes lifted to hers. “Yes,” he rasped.
Haven sucked in a deep breath. Gabriel had done something similar with Addy to keep her alive when they were trapped in Nexxus. From what Addy told her, it was basically a demon marriage ceremony. But it only worked when both participants were willing to submit to the marriage. “If I was dead, I couldn’t consent to sharing energy with you. How did that work?”
“It was different for us than it was for Addy and Gabriel,” he said. “What I did was… more than sharing energy. It took more than half my life force to bring you back.”
She reared back. “What did that do to you?”
He shrugged. “I’m not as strong as I was.” His gaze dropped to the empty scotch bottle as if he was trying to refill it with nothing but the force of his will. “I can feel you everywhere. It’s like I’m…empty when I’m not with you.”
So that was why she’d felt so alone for the past two years. “Why did you stay away then?”
“In Nexxus, there’s no lower form of life than a necromancer. And that’s what I became when I brought you back. I dishonored myself and violated you. I don’t deserve to be in your presence, and still I’ve shackled you to me for the rest of your life. We’ll always feel this connection whether you want to or not.”
The rage within her started slowly. Just a little tingle of annoyance, really. But it only took a few heartbeats for it to spread through her like wildfire. “So, let me get this straight. The reason you’ve been avoiding me for two years, the horrible thing you’re so ashamed of, is that you broke some ancient rule from a dimension you’re not even in anymore, as taught to you by the father who tried to kill you, Gabriel, and my sister, and brought me back to life without my express consent?”
He had the unmitigated gall to look a little relieved that she was finally understanding. “Yes.”
Haven took a deep, steadying breath. It was the kind of deep breath that yoga breathing wished it could be, because she had to summon patience from the depths of Satan’s asshole to deal with this man. “What—and I can’t stress this enough—in the actual fuck did you think I would’ve said had I been able to consent to the energy transfer?”
His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Do you think I might not have consented? That I had a death wish or something?”
“Um…I guess I didn’t really think about that?”
“Apparently not, because you’ve been flogging yourself for over two years—and punishing me with your absence—for doing the exact thing I would’ve asked you to do if I’d been able to.”
He frowned. “That’s not?—”
“And, as if that wasn’t dumb enough, you’re holding yourself to the standards of Nexxus, which was a horrible shithole with no redeeming qualities for, except maybe that it gave us Fluffy, instead of this world, where you would’ve been revered by all of Section 8, especially my parents, for doing what you did.”
“Well, I?—”
Oh, he should know her well enough by now to know that he was not getting a word in edgewise anytime soon. “So, for doing the thing I would’ve wanted you to do, the thing my parents and everyone at Section 8 would’ve wanted you to do, the thing that was completely selfless and did great harm to you, you’ve been pouting and brooding and stalking me from afar to make sure I never got into any trouble or had any fun or was able to do my job effectively for two years. All while not talking to me or anyone else and, I’m assuming, listening to Hurt by Johnny Cash and other assorted depression anthems on repeat?”
Roan sighed and let his chin drop. “Haven, I swear to?—”
She poked her finger at him. “Don’t you dare get irritated with me, Roan Malek. This is all your fault, and not because of necromancy and consent, but because of your complete inability to communicate with me like a fucking grownup!”
He looked incredulous. “How was I supposed to tell you all that?”
“You just say it! You should know that you can say anything to me. Because what you fail to realize is that even before I died, I was already tied to you forever.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you, you idiot!”
“Well, I love you, too!”
“Fine!”
“Fine,” he snarled.
They lunged at each other at the same time, overturning the table, tossing their glasses and the empty scotch bottle across the room, colliding in the middle of the mess.
For someone who’d just downed more alcohol than she’d consumed in a year, he took control like a pro, angling her head with his strong, work-roughened hands, deepening their kiss and stroking his tongue over hers.
He tasted like expensive scotch, heat, and the promise of a thousand screaming orgasms. And if fate would stop cock blocking them for just a few damn hours, she intended to collect on that promise as many times as humanely (or inhumanely, as the case may be) possible.
Roan pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers. His breathing was ragged, his heart pounding against hers. “Are you sure?” he asked tightly.
Holy shit, why were they still talking? “Yes! Yes, I’m sure. Will you please just hurry up and?—”
The rest of her sentence was cut off by the inarticulate oomph she let out when he spun her around and bent her over her kitchen counter. His hands stripped off her sleep shorts, tank top, and slippers faster than she’d ever disrobed in her life. He made a hungry sound that was something between a growl and a groan as her clothes hit the floor.
This probably wouldn’t be a good time to nervously giggle or voice concerns about whether it was sanitary to get naked against her kitchen counter, even though that’s what her noisy brain was telling her to do. So, she swallowed her nerves and kept her mouth tightly shut as he grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked it aside, exposing her neck. However, there was no holding back a pained moan when he started trailing open-mouthed kisses across her shoulder, up to her ear, and back down again. It was like he was starving, and she was the only thing that could save him.
It wasn’t in her nature to not push back, though. So Haven reached behind her and grabbed his hips with both hands, yanking him tighter against her. And when he rolled his hips into her, she let out a desperate, hungry wail that he prolonged by filling his hands with her breasts and rubbing his thumbs over her tightened nipples.
“I’ve waited a lifetime for you,” he whispered in her ear.
“I’ve always been yours,” she choked out. “Always.”
His pleased hum vibrated through her entire body. She sucked in a deep breath when he gently nudged her legs apart with his knee.
Roan tipped her head to the side with one hand so he could capture her mouth with his. Meanwhile, his other hand…oh, his other hand…slid down her stomach, then lower until…
He stopped.
The needy howl she let out could only be described as the sound of her heart breaking. He was going to change his mind. Tell her they couldn’t be together. Abandon her when she…
“Hands on the counter,” he ordered. “And don’t move.”
She did as she was told, but nearly swallowed her tongue when he sank to his knees behind her, tipped her hips back, spread her open and slid his hot tongue over her clit.
Holy. Fucking. Shit .
She might’ve blacked out for a second or two. She might’ve cried out. She wasn’t sure, though, because all she could hear was the sound of her blood roaring through her veins. The only thing keeping her upright was the grip he had on her hips as his tongue tormented her clit. Was it actually possible to survive this kind of pleasure? She wasn’t sure how. It felt like her heart was going to explode at any minute.
Roan didn’t seem concerned about her cardiac health, though. Because that’s when he slid two thick fingers inside her and unerringly hit a spot only her favorite vibrator had ever found before.
Her entire body tightened. Every muscle pulsed. Her fingers curled helplessly against the counter. Noises she’d never made in her life fell from her lips, their pitch rising to meet the speed of his fingers and tongue like the hottest, dirtiest symphony ever played.
She was dead, wasn’t she? There was no way this was her real life. She’d died and this moment of blissful pleasure was her heavenly reward, wasn’t it?
But, oh, no. That wasn’t heaven. Because that’s when he curled his finger into her G-spot and she came with a low, keening wail. Her arms gave out as the most powerful orgasm she’d ever had ripped through her. She barely noticed how cold the marble counter was on her naked breasts as her toes curled and her stomach muscles contracted until they hurt.
Roan looped an arm around her waist and lifted her limp body off the counter as he stood up slowly. Before she could even catch her breath, he spun her around. Fire danced in his eyes as he brushed the back of his hand over his lips and sucked his fingers—oh, sweet Jesus, those were the fingers that had been inside her!—clean, all while never breaking eye contact.
“You’re still sure you want this?” he growled.
She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to his cock, which looked like it was about to shred its way through his gray sweatpants. “So, so fucking sure,” she whispered.
So, with consent clearly established—again—he scooped her up in a bridal carry and raced to the bedroom, taking two stairs at a time.
This was going to change everything, she realized. Their relationship would never be the same after this.
And God help them both, she couldn’t wait.
There was probably more they should be talking about. Roan knew that.
But the ability to talk escaped him with his first taste of Haven.
Truth be told, it had probably happened long before that. He’d most likely been too far gone with their first kiss on that dance floor.
Talking would have to wait. Because right now, his thoughts were fairly one-track, and that track led to claiming his wife.
Fire roared through his veins as he dumped Haven on the bed and gazed down at her. She was so fucking perfect.
Making her come, learning her body, figuring out what made her scream for him, had made him feel like a god among men. There was no going back after something like that. He needed more.
He needed everything .
She stared up at him with those wide green eyes of hers while he shoved his pants down and stepped out of them. If there was any sight in the world more beautiful than Haven, flushed and happy and eager, gazing up at him, waiting for him to join her in bed, he’d certainly never seen it.
Running one hand idly over his cock, he shook his head. What the hell had he ever done in his life to deserve this? To deserve her ?
His breath escaped in a pained hiss when she sat up, slithered down to the foot of the bed, shoved his hand out of the way, and wrapped her tiny fist around his cock. “I’ve never done this before, so you’ll have to tell me if I screw it up.”
“Not fucking possible,” he choked out as she wrapped her lush lips around him.
Her concerns about her inexperience turned out to be completely unfounded. Sliding his hands into her hair, he stared down at her, watching her cheeks hollow as she sucked him into the back of her throat.
That’s when it occurred to him that he might not survive this. The way his heart was hammering couldn’t possibly be healthy. And he couldn’t care less.
What a glorious way to go .
“You’re killing me,” he ground out.
The pleased hum she let out sent a shiver down his spine and made his balls tighten so much it was damn near painful.
She had to stop, though. The first time he came, he needed to be inside her. He would not come in her mouth.
Not yet, anyway.
So, with more control than he’d ever exhibited in his entire life, he gave her hair a gentle tug, forcing her to let go. Her eyes tipped up to his.
“Birth control?” he asked.
“I’m a year into that three-year shot,” she said.
That was good. Especially since demons couldn’t transmit disease. She was protected. Which left only one question…
“Haven…are you a virgin?”
Seeing her blush so hard after she’d just had his cock in her mouth would’ve made him smile if he wasn’t so painfully turned on. After the longest pause in the world, she quietly said, “Kind of.”
He frowned. “What does that mean?”
“I mean…I’ve watched a lot of movies. And…I have a lot of…toys.”
She leaned over and opened the drawer on her bedside table. In it was an impressive assortment of vibrators of various sizes. His brows raised. “You’ve used all of those?”
Haven shrugged sheepishly. “Pretty sure I wrecked whatever was left of my hymen with that big purple one.”
Now that was truly interesting information. “What do you think about when you’re using those toys, sweetheart?”
She bit her lower lip. “I think about you.”
The mental image of her pleasuring herself with her drawer full of toys while thinking about him nearly brought him to his knees. “Well, why don’t we find out how the real thing compares to your fantasies?”
“About fucking time,” she nearly sobbed.