Lucille #2
“I knew if he ever found me, I’d be back to the life that’d destroy me.
But at night…” He paused, his voice lowering.
“At night, when I wasn’t running or looking over my shoulder, my memories attacked me.
Their faces. Their slaughtered bodies. Their pleas for mercy.
Sometimes I wished for death. And other times…
I wished for the Hell Rune, just so I didn’t have to feel it all. ”
I wanted to hug him, but I didn’t dare interrupt.
“To this day, I still question how I made it to Hell. Gabriel’s words helped. But maybe the Weaver is real, and he knew,” he breathed, brushing the hand I still had clutching his side.
My eyes widened, and my chest squeezed. I gazed at the back of his head, hearing his unspoken words.
I didn’t know what to say. My hands turned clammy as my body flushed with nerves. Ronen didn’t seem to notice as he continued.
“My past continued to haunt me in Hell. It wasn’t until Dorus found me out in the cold and brought me to the castle kitchens that my life started to change. I didn’t want her help. But no wasn’t in her vocabulary. That surprised me the most.”
“Because you’re a big, bad general.” I laughed softly.
“I wasn’t a general at the time. But yes.
I was a fully tattooed, strange male with a dark past. Anyone who saw me either cowered or shied away.
But not Dorus.” A smile lightened his heavy words.
“She forced me into her kitchens, where I earned food and Hellmarks. Once I got out of my own way, I realized I liked cooking. It quieted my demons. Then, when I tried baking, I discovered it completely calmed my mind, and I had a knack for it.”
“Ronen, the big, bad baker.”
“I prefer the term pastry chef.”
I chuckled and squeezed his sides. He jolted.
No way.
“Are you ticklish?”
“No.”
I did it again. He jumped.
“Are you sure?” My fingers twitched.
“Don’t you dare—”
I squeezed him again.
He whipped around and snatched my hands, pinning them behind my back and well away from his sides.
“Liar,” I said, smiling smugly.
His eyes narrowed, and he shifted both of my wrists into one hand while fishing for something behind me.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m finding a towel. There’s something on your lips.”
I licked them. “No, there’s—”
Ronen smeared a glob of caramel all over them.
I huffed in outrage, amusement bubbling up despite myself.
“What are you going to do now, Hellion?” he challenged.
I wrapped my legs around him, jerking him toward me as I lifted my face and smeared my sugar-coated lips across his stubbled cheek.
He laughed, and his hand slid into my hair, gripping me tight to hold me in place. He considered me with his golden gaze, sinful intent glittering in his eyes. His next smile had my stomach flipping.
“Ronen,” I warned.
Then he leaned forward and ran his tingling tongue across my lips. It was wet, tantalizing, tingly, and unexpectedly hot. The laughter or smile he might’ve expected drowned beneath a jolt of desire, leaving only my breathy exhale.
He pulled back, and there was no more gold, only black shadows bleeding into his eyes and wrapping around his tense neck.
“Hellion?”
It was just my nickname, and yet it held a question only I could answer.
My heart rate climbed. I wanted to know what his lips felt like against mine, but I didn’t want it to mean I was his. I wasn’t ready for that. But couldn’t I give in a little?
He didn’t move. He waited for me.
“No kissing,” I answered.
He hesitated, considering my silent offer. Then he leaned forward, his lips hovering near my ear. “No kissing.” His voice was a sensual whisper, and I swallowed.
What did I just get myself into?
He breathed me in deeply, his soft rumbling hum ripping all thoughts from my mind. That dangerous little noise sounded a lot different in real life than in my dream-walk. He nipped my neck, then soothed the sharp pain with his tongue. My heels dug into the table, screeching against the wood.
“That’s not a kiss,” I said breathlessly, having no idea why. That was the whole point. But I think he short-circuited my mind.
Ronen smiled against my neck. “No?”
He yanked me back. I arched against his tight hold, my breasts pushed out.
He watched me as he slowly lowered his head to my cleavage, the tip of his tongue tracing my skin, making my eyes flutter.
His free hand painstakingly unbuttoned my dress.
The caramel still stuck on his fingers spread across my soft curves.
Ronen tsked. At my sticky skin? At my body? What was he tsking at?
I tried to peek at his face, but his fingers gripped me tight, holding my head firmly back. My heart pounded with each button he flicked open. Every sharp pop of fabric was a gavel sentencing my body to heat and aching. His slow, savoring movements made me insane.
Finally, he undid the last button covering my naked breasts.
“Fucking stunning,” he breathed.
I couldn’t even doubt him. Not when he gave me one more emotion—awe.
Or maybe what truly silenced my doubts was the tongue licking up the mess he made on my chest, groaning like I was a delicious morsel.
Did he have any idea how thoroughly he was undoing me with that sound? The vibrations combined with the tingles created an addictive cocktail. He didn’t stop there either. His mouth wrapped around my nipple and bit down, ripping a gasp from me, then soothed the pain with a caressing, wet touch.
“How about that? Was that a kiss?”
“No—”
“You’re right. I’ll have to try again.” He cut me off, a devilish smile coloring his deep voice.
I had woken the dark, merciless angel with a simple gasp. The same one from my dream. The one I so badly had wanted to ruin me. Then. Now. I wanted his touch. His body. I wanted to feel everything he had to offer. My desire overrode any sense as I curved my heels into his thighs to drag him closer.
He chuckled, feeling everything I did. “Are you going to beg me, my gorgeous girl?”
He was smug until the endearment. Then his voice softened, his awe seeping into me, touched with adoration and devotion, wrecking me. Pleas sat at the tip of my tongue, urging me to give in. I wanted to. I wanted to give him anything in that moment, if only to hear him say that again.
Digging my teeth into my lip, I forced back my response, barely holding on to my will. He held all the cards. I needed to keep at least one—even if it was something as simple as refraining from verbally begging while he knew full well every inch of my body ached for him.
“I’ll give it a minute.”
Bastard.
He pulled his hand from my hair and pressed down on my naked chest until I was flattened against the counter.
I immediately focused on his face, swallowing when all I saw were colorless irises.
Shadows swirled down his large arms and wrapped around my ankles, spreading my legs.
He undid the rest of the buttons holding my dress together.
“Thirty sec—” His abundant confidence cut off as he opened my dress and realized I wore no underwear.
I’d spent hours second-guessing that choice, fidgeting at the exposure, but it was all worth it.
Not that this had been my intention. The dress looked better without undergarment lines.
I was so glad it did. Otherwise, I would’ve missed Ronen clutching his face with closed eyes and breathing like he physically had to restrain himself.
“Thirty what, General?” I taunted.
His eyes flashed open; challenge and revenge sharpened his features.
Shit.
Immediately, Ronen dropped to his knees, gripped my thighs, and drove his tongue into my center.
I cried out, arching off the table. He didn’t even give me time to catch my breath.
Over and over again, he thrust into me. I writhed against his restraints and relentless vibrations.
His dominating ministrations built my want, my need, and snapped the last of my will.
“Ronen, please, I—”
He slid to my clit, replacing my emptiness with two thick fingers. It was slightly uncomfortable but divine.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re tight.”
“I haven’t… Only in dream-walks.”
The shadows in his eyes darkened, and he took a deep breath as if fighting for control.
“I’ll go slow.”
I nodded, not even sure if I wanted slow.
His tongue swiped back and forth as he slowly moved inside me. At first, it was perfect, but then my desire rose and my body stretched.
“Faster.”
Ronen hummed against my clit, pleased. Utensils and bowls rattled.
The noises competed with my breathy gasps and moans.
But the more sound I made, the more Ronen devoured me, as if it were his reward.
And every time I said please, his tongue moved in a way that brought me to the edge.
My ache was at the point of bursting. I breathed his name more times than I could count.
He moved up to my ear while his fingers continued their rhythm, his palm brushing my clit. “You’re close, gorgeous. Do you like how they feel inside you?”
Heavenly Shit.
“Can you imagine what it’d feel like if it were my cock?”
His words painted an image in my mind that sent me over the edge. My cries echoed through the arched ceiling. Light and color sparked and swirled in my vision while bliss washed through my muscles, liquifying me. I panted, dazed.
He continued moving until my throbs slowed, then stopped. His shadows released me, sliding down my naked body in a caress and teasing my sensitive clit. I flinched. Ronen’s self-satisfied expression said it all.
“You begged.” He grinned.
“You cheated.” Not sure how. But I sure wasn’t going to build his ego with the truth.
“Hmm.” That one short sound held enough cocky amusement to drown a pack of Hellhounds. He leaned down to my ear. “That’s called winning, gorgeous.”
And because I was a sore loser—in more ways than one—I scooped up a large portion of caramel and wiped it all over his face. “And I call that a sneak attack.”