Chapter Sixteen

Chapter

Sixteen

Hawkyn was going to do this. He was going to fucking

do this. Sex with his first female in centuries. He was going to break all the

damned Memitim rules, and he was going to do it well.

And he was going to do it with the amazing female standing

in front of him. A female who had every right to hate him for his role in

protecting the violent murderer who was hunting her. Hell, he was starting to

hate himself.

Her hands gripped his waist, and the self-loathing drained

away, replaced by a searing need he hadn’t felt in a long time. No, he’d never

felt this, the driving desire to be with someone not as a temporary escape, but

as an all-in experience. What happened between them might not be the first step

to forever, but as a Memitim, he couldn’t have that with anyone but another

angel anyway.

The sudden idea that he would mate with an angel one day

jolted him. He’d assumed he’d pass all his Memitim tests, do his job on Earth

admirably, and join the Council before settling down with a female. But as

Aurora’s lips nibbled his jaw and her hands caressed the sensitive skin on his

back where his wings had once been, all he could think about was being with

her.

He didn’t even care if she could ease his pain. It didn’t

matter. He’d spent his entire Memitim life taking care of others, others who

didn’t deserve it. Every scumbag he guarded ate a bit of his soul, and it was

high time he did something life-affirming for himself.

See, this was the kind of thing he’d change if he made it

onto the Memitim Council.

Except that he knew damned well that wasn’t going to happen

anymore, and the feeling of loss in the space where his wings should be made

that achingly clear.

“No,” he gasped, breaking away from her.

He stumbled backward, knocking over the TV tray in the

corner and sending it crashing to the floor. His vodka bottle shattered,

spraying alcohol everywhere.

“Hey,” Aurora said, alarm flickering in the depths of her

ocean-blue eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

No, he wasn’t. He was a fucking head case. “Yeah,” he

breathed. “Yeah. Sorry. I’m just... It’s been a long time.”

“For me too,” she said quietly.

“How long?”

“A few years. You?”

He snorted. “A few centuries.” A few long

centuries.

“Seriously?” She moved toward him, her full breasts bouncing

tantalizingly with each step. “Wow.”

“We have to take a vow of celibacy.”

“Damn,” she breathed, stopping in her tracks. “Then we can’t

do this.”

“The hell we can’t. I just have to

get out of my own head.”

“You’re worried about the punishment, aren’t you?”

He snorted again. “I don’t give a shit about it. I’m sick of

the damned rules. I’m sick of the bullshit.”

“Then what is it?”

“You know what?” he asked as he closed the distance between

them. “It’s nothing. It’s absolutely nothing.”

Because fuck it. The moment he’d flashed into the dark

parking lot and interfered in Aurora’s abduction, he’d known on some level that

he was tempting fate. He’d told himself he was cool with guarding evil people,

but now he could admit to himself that over the years a hairline fracture had

formed in the compartment where he’d kept his indifference.

And when he’d seen Aurora, that fracture had led to a

complete shatter, just like that vodka bottle on the floor.

She moaned as he covered her mouth with his and walked her

backward until she bumped against the wide stone window ledge. He hadn’t done

this in a long, long time, but sex didn’t have a steep learning curve and he’d always been a self-starter.

Still kissing her, he cupped her breasts, circling her

nipples with his thumbs. She gasped in response, arching into his touch and

thrusting her pelvis against his aching erection.

“We’re not naked enough,” she whispered against his lips,

and he agreed.

His breath came faster as he dropped one hand to her

waistband and ripped her jeans open. Her fingers fumbled with his fly until the

buttons popped and his cock, swollen and stiff, sprung into her waiting grip.

He nearly came right then and there. “Easy, there, little

Wytch,” he croaked. “My fuse has been on a slow burn for hundreds of years.

Won’t take much to set me off—”

Suddenly, she dropped to her knees, shoved his jeans down to

his thighs and swallowed him. Just swallowed him whole. The tip of his cock hit

the back of her throat and he yelled out in sheer,

electric pleasure.

“What are you doing?” he rasped as she flicked her tongue

back and forth over his shaft.

She sucked upward hard, and his erection came free of her

hot mouth with a soft pop. “I’m taking the edge off. Besides, you need at least

two orgasms for the full effect of my magic to work.”

“Seriously?” Not that he was going to argue with that.

“No.” She graced him with a flirty, wicked smile that suited

her. “I just want to know what an angel tastes like when he comes.”

He’d have laughed if he wasn’t on the verge of giving her

what she wanted. As it was, he had to bite his tongue, concentrating on the

pain rather than the pleasure of her fingers as they caressed his sac. She

lowered her mouth to him again, her tongue flicking over the head of his cock.

Adrenaline surged through him, spiking his desire as his

balls tightened and a tingle spread through his shaft. He was close, so close

his legs were rubber and he had to throw out a hand to catch himself on the wall so he didn’t collapse on top of Aurora.

He dared not look down at the erotic sight of her sucking

him. Instead he closed his eyes and concentrated on

the feel of her wet mouth sliding up and down. Of her tongue circling his

mushroom head. Of her lips nibbling his balls while her fingers stroked the

shockingly sensitive skin just behind them.

And when she increased the pressure, her fingers massaging,

kneading, squeezing, a vibration unlike anything he’d ever experienced shot

through him like a strike of erotic lightning—and that was when she took him to

Heaven.

Screw the rules. He didn’t need to Ascend to get what he

needed. Or what he wanted.

He drowned in bliss, pumping his hips as she pumped with her

fist, and holy hell, Aurora was, for him, the pinnacle of Heaven.

In Aurora’s experience, when a guy came, he needed a

minute to recover. More than a minute, actually.

So she was shocked as hell when,

just moments after his powerful orgasm that overloaded her senses with the

blast of energy, he withdrew from her mouth, hauled her to her feet, and tore

her pants off like they were made of tissue paper.

His emotions filtered through her, his anger and pain

converting to positive power much faster than had ever happened in the past.

Usually the negativity lingered, sometimes for days, but like everything else

about Hawkyn, his energy was unique. Addictive. She wanted more.

“That was incredible,” he growled as he tossed aside the

shredded jeans, leaving her only in aqua panties with lovely black lace—that

Hawkyn bit through with his fangs.

She shivered, despite the fiery need flowing through her

veins, consuming her as it built into an inferno she was sure would scorch them both.

His big hands palmed her thighs, spread them as he eased her

back onto the windowsill. His emerald eyes glowed with erotic light as he took

her in. Was he going to... Yessss.

His tongue speared her center, stabbing deep before he

dragged it up, licking her swollen, sensitive tissues. She cried out, his name

carrying through the small space, and she felt him smile against her core.

“I don’t have any experience with this,” he said in a raw,

ragged voice, his hot breath tickling the skin of her inner thigh, “but I learn

fast.”

Which he proved by latching on to her clit and drawing on it

gently, using her moans and panting breaths as a guide. A finger penetrated

her, pumping and flicking, and she had to bite down on the heel of her palm to

keep from screaming in ecstasy.

The orgasm hit her like a sudden tempest, tearing her world

apart before it all came together again with Hawkyn climbing up her body and

settling himself between her legs as she sat on the stone ledge.

When had he taken off his pants?

Not that she cared about details like that. Not when he was

staring down at her with half-lidded, possessive eyes that burned with male

need. God, when he looked at her like that, he could have anything he wanted.

Anything. Anything except... ”Wait,”

she breathed. “Protection.”

“Memitim aren’t fertile.” The tip of his shaft prodded her

entrance, but he hesitated, waiting for permission. “Not until we Ascend.”

“Okay, then.” She leaned back against the thick, opaque

glass in the window and spread her legs wider. “That’s exactly what I wanted to

hear.”

“Damn,” he breathed as he pushed inside her. “You’re so

beautiful. So perfect.”

No, what was perfect was the way he was so careful with her.

His erection slid inside her slowly, stretching her exquisitely as he watched

her, his gaze roaming her expression for every reaction.

When he was fully seated, he framed her face in his hands,

holding her for his kiss. She took it eagerly, slipping her tongue between his

lips as he started to move against her. In seconds, the kiss flared hot and

urgent, and a rumble of approval rattled deep in his chest.

His tongue slid against hers, stroking and thrusting, the

tempo matching the rocking of his hips. Tension mounted between her legs as she

locked her thighs around his waist, holding him where she needed him to be.

This was perfect. So perfect. Like everything about him. She

slid her palms up from his waist to his perfectly healed back, charting the

hills and valleys of his muscles, the heavy bone structure, the ropey tendons.

This was her playground, and as he took her higher with every thrust, she used

her fingers to knead all the pleasure points within her reach, loving how he

gasped when she dug deep.

As a masseuse, she knew the benefits of massage. But as a

Wytch, with sex demon ancestors, she also had unique knowledge that allowed her

to access erogenous zones most people didn’t even know they had.

She used that knowledge now with precision and skill, loving

how, when she knuckled a spot between his third and fourth rib, he moaned. Or

when she used two fingers on a pressure point in the ridge of his shoulder, his

entire body spasmed, his head falling back in a vision of male ecstasy.

“You’re killing me,” he whispered. “Fuck, you’re amazing.”

Abruptly, he swept her up and, still sheathed inside her, he

carried her over to the bed. His strength as he

lowered her left her in awe.

Panting with desperate need, she pulled him down so they

were chest to chest, her legs wrapped around his waist in a hold she wouldn’t

let him break anytime soon.

She’d had sex before, obviously, and her succubus nature had

been all about the pleasure for a purpose. Sex and magic were a release. But

what she was doing with Hawkyn had gone beyond that. It might have started as a way to help him get rid of the negativity and pain that

weighed him down, but now it was about being with him. About giving him a piece

of herself.

She’d never done that before.

He rocked against her, plunging deep before driving a series

of rapid, short strokes into her clenched core. His thick shaft rubbed her in

just the right places as she arched into him, taking

him as fast, as hard, as deep as he could go.

Her fingernails scored his back as he rotated his hips, and

she couldn’t stop looking at his face, at the sweat glistening on his brow, at

his jaw clenched in the most male of ecstasies, at his lips that had given her

so much pleasure parted for his labored breaths.

At this moment, he seemed to be both angel and demon,

because what he was doing to her was nothing short of evil, but he was so

damned good at it.

“Now,” she whispered as she bucked against him. “Please...”

As if he’d been waiting for permission, he lunged, his

pelvis slamming into her so hard she slid up the mattress and bumped her head

against the headboard. The thing began to bang on the wall, but if it bothered

him, it didn’t show.

He pounded into her, showing no

mercy, but she didn’t want it. She wanted all of him. All of

that lovely power and all of that immense strength.

“Yes,” she cried. “Right...there.”

He jerked, his body going taut as he roared in release. Hot

splashes of semen warmed her from the inside and triggered her own climax. Her

body seized, wracked by waves of pleasure so intense

she thought she might pass out. She struggled to focus,

to stay conscious so she didn’t lose a single second of the ecstasy that was

utterly shattering. Life-altering.

Good...God.

Hawkyn’s heavy weight came down on her, and she welcomed it.

It might be the only thing keeping her from floating away on a cloud of bliss.

Again, the emotional transfer of negativity sifted through

her, individual threads of anger and sadness that made sense, given the fight

with his father, the torture at the hands of his brothers, and the conflict he

felt over choosing her safety over his duty to his Primori. She inhaled,

counting through a breathing exercise that helped convert negative emotions to

positive energy, and within moments, peace surrounded her in a cocoon of

warmth.

“This feels so right,” he murmured roughly, one hand

stroking her hair as he lay on top of her. “I should be regretting this right

now. I should be laden with guilt and wondering what the Memitim Council is

going to do to me, but I honestly just don’t care.”

“See? I absorbed all that negative energy and pain—” She

broke off as what he’d just said sunk in, and alarm shot through her. “Wait.

What they’re going to do to you? What do you mean?”

Smiling, he shifted but tucked her against him so they were

one big side-by-side tangle on the bed. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.

Whatever happens, it’s mine to deal with.”

That wasn’t fair, but the mind-blowing sex and the events of

the last few days had caught up with her, and all she wanted was a chance to

rest in the strong arms of an angel. Just for a little while.

They could deal with all the other shit later.

And something told her there was going to be a lot of it.

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