Chapter Seven #2

He wanted her. He’d wanted her since

the first moment he’d seen her, even though he’d believed that things could

only end badly between them. Especially if she was responsible for the theft of

his gem and the death of its human host, a young man named Nabebe

whom Razr had all but raised.

But dammit, he liked Jedda, and he was beginning to doubt

she’d had anything to do with the events that got him banished from Heaven. As

a gem dealer, she could have acquired the Enoch Ice Diamond at any time during

the last century or so, and it made sense that she’d deny knowing anything

about it, given that the most powerful forces in Heaven and Sheoul

were after it. Hell, Razr had even heard that Satan had put out feelers before

he was locked away by Revenant, Sheoul’s new king,

and his brother, Reaver, the most famous battle angel in history.

But she’s a demon. You hate demons. You were born to

fight them. To destroy them.

True enough. But during Razr’s service to Azagoth, he’d been around enough demons to know that they

weren’t one-size-fits-all. Baby battle angels cut their teeth on the knowledge

that all demons were pure evil and must be destroyed, but he knew better now.

Just like humans, each demon was unique down to the depth of malice or decency

in their souls.

He’d bet that Jedda was one of the decent ones.

Her face tilted up, and his knees nearly buckled at the need

that turned the clear ice blue of her eyes into opaque

azure pools. She wanted this as badly as he did.

“I don’t usually do this,” she whispered in a shaky voice

that punched him in the place deep inside that made him male.

“I don’t either,” he whispered back.

“I…I can’t get pregnant,” she said softly. “Not until I

absorb an azurite.”

He had no idea what the hell she was talking about, but it

didn’t matter. Fertility had been one of the things taken from him when his

wings were bound. No illegal half-demon babies for him.

Dying to taste her—and to get away from an incredibly

uncomfortable subject—he lowered his mouth to hers.

He’d intended the kiss to be gentle. Exploratory. But she

wasn’t having any of that.

Throwing her arms around him, she deepened the kiss, her

tongue meeting his in a violent clash. Her legs came

up and wrapped around his hips, and he hissed at the feel of her warm center

grinding against his hard length. She undulated wildly, her firm breasts

pressing against the hard wall of his chest. Man, she felt good. So good he had

to slide a hand between their bodies to reduce the friction that was

threatening to ruin this whole thing.

She moaned at the contact of his fingers on her core, so he

pressed against the fabric of her leggings, letting his

touch both soothe and inflame. The scent of her arousal stoked his, making him

crazy, making him want more.

Now.

He spun her against the wall and, using only his severely

reduced angelic powers, he lifted her up next to a painting of loose rubies and

a pearl necklace spilling out of a gold chalice. The surprise in her eyes

turned hot as she hung there, exposed to his gaze and his mercy. With his hands

free and her body pinned so she could barely squirm, he peeled off her

leggings, leaving her only in her silk shirt and bright aquamarine lace

underwear.

Stunning.

His mouth watered as he skimmed his palms up her creamy thighs and hooked his thumbs under the elastic of

her panties.

“Yes,” she breathed, her body quivering with anticipation.

“Touch me.”

She said it as if he was capable of

resisting. No chance of that. He’d love to take the time to tease her,

to make her beg, but he was like a man who had been wandering in a scorching

desert for days and who had just come upon an oasis.

Greedily, he pushed one thumb between her folds and stroked

her silky moisture through her slit, circling her swollen nub before dropping

lower to penetrate her deeply. She threw her head back and arched into his hand

as much as the angelic hold on her would allow.

Damn, she was beautiful, her hair whipping around her face

as she tossed her head, her cheeks glowing with a rosy tinge that matched the

color of her tongue as she held it between her clenched teeth.

Eager for more, he tugged off her panties, careful to not tear them when they caught around her ankles. As he

straightened, he kissed and licked his way up her leg, savoring her smooth skin

and every little catch of her breath. His own breathing was labored, his

heartbeat hammering inside his rib cage as if urging him on. Not one to ignore

the signals his body was sending him, he flicked his tongue over the swollen

hills of Jedda’s sex. At her cry of ecstasy, he dipped his tongue into her

slick valley, making her cry out again and making his cock jerk with the first

stirrings of orgasm. He didn’t want this to end, wanted to lick her until she

begged him to stop, but it had been a long time since he’d been with a female,

and his body was humiliatingly ready to go off.

With a snarl of both regret and anticipation, he roughly

parted her thighs and entered her in one smooth motion. His power still held

her against the wall, so he planted his forearms next to her head and steadied

himself as he surged against her.

“Razriel,” she moaned, jolting him

out of his lust with the use of his angel name, but

only until she locked her legs around his waist and arched, taking him so deep

he didn’t think they’d ever come untangled.

His blood pumped like he was in battle, adrenaline searing

his veins and skin until every part of him felt more alive than he’d been in

years. Decades. His balls throbbed and tightened, and panting, he pounded into

her, her delicate whimpers mingling with his groans of pleasure.

She came with no warning, stiffening against him, a muffled

shout tearing from her throat. Her silken sheath squeezed him, catapulting him

into his own electric explosion of ecstasy that made him see colors that put

her hyper-bright room and clothes to shame.

As they came down, he realized he’d released the power that

held her against the wall, and now she clung to him so tightly that not even a

drop of perspiration could get between them.

Damn, that had been good.

“You know,” she murmured into his neck, “you never told me

why you tracked me down at the conference and what it is you wanted me to find

for you.”

This probably wasn’t the time to show his hand, but he

didn’t have to bluff, either. “Must be something in the air,” he said, pulling

back just enough to gauge her response in her expression, “because I actually

want what Shrike wants.”

She stiffened against him, and panic flared in her eyes. “I

don’t understand.”

“The gems,” he said. “The remaining two Gems of Enoch. I

want them, and I believe you’re the key.”

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.