Her Black Heart (The Dark Amulet Series Book 2) (8 page)

CHAPTER

TWENTY-ONE

Julia

“Maybe you should forgive yourself instead,” Julia muttered under her breath. Who was he to judge?

What. Ever
.

“What if I don’t want to?”

Aza cleared his throat. “Why do you think you’re still here?”

She looked up at him and he stopped pacing. “I dunno.”

“I don’t know either. I think we’re supposed to figure it out. Together.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re more than the absentminded demon I thought you were?”

“I dunno.”

Julia tossed her head back and laughed. “Come here. Please.” He blinked at her with those deep set eyes. She put a hand out to him. His body sagged as he walked toward her. The steel cock he sported hadn’t completely gone flaccid yet. When he reached her, she was eye-level with his member. He smirked down at her and her cheeks heated.

“This is a terrible idea,” he whispered.

“I know.” Neither of them had said what the terrible idea was, but going by his heavy eyelids and engorged manliness, they both knew.

“Lay down on the bed.” He loomed over her from the side of the mattress. “Can I trust you not to touch me?”

“I think so.” Heat flooded her core and she felt herself getting wetter. Her nipples beaded up again. The terry cloth fabric rasped against them as he slid the sides apart. “Don’t hurt me,” she said.

The tie around her waist released. She felt the warmth of his hands, even though he hadn’t touched her. He opened the bottom half of the robe. Her lips parted. Her body jerked slightly when he took both her hands. He pressed her palms together and wound the bathrobe belt around her wrists, securing the ends. Then he lifted her arms over her head.

“I won’t touch you, I promise.”

Aza placed a hand on her stomach. She quivered. Guess he wasn’t shy after all. He rubbed in circles, tracing a finger around her navel.

She giggled. “That tickles.” Julia gasped and quietly whimpered as his hands traveled up her ribcage. This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Yes, but she wanted more. She arched her back, hoping he’d take the hint. Her breasts needed attention.

He ran his hands over her shoulders and down the center of her upper body. A tease. His hands grazed the sides of her swells. “More?” he asked.

Julia trembled on her inhale and exhale. “Yes,” she croaked.

Aza ran a finger around both nipples at the same time, but didn’t stop after once; he kept going.

“Oh, god,” she breathed. Her whole body tensed—thigh muscles contracted, her sex clenched. She rocked her hips up and down. “That feels…so good.” He was bent over her now. She wanted to dive her hands into his hair. Except she didn’t want him to stop, so she left her hands where they were. Hopefully, he would allow her to touch him at a later point. Right now…she was about to orgasm.

“Should I stop?”

“Oh, God, no. Go lower.”

“Lower?”

“Yeah.” She wished he’d kiss her breasts. Run his tongue over her light pink tips.

He took one hand and smoothed the palm down over her small patch of blonde curls. “What do I do here?” he asked, but seemed to be talking to himself; he’d figured out what to do with her top half.

Julia helped him out by putting her knees up and flopping her legs apart. He moaned his approval. He rubbed the top of her sex, snaked a finger around to her opening.

Oh, God. Yes.

She bit her bottom lip to keep herself from crying out and scaring him. Then he dipped his finger inside her. He checked her face; she nodded. He pressed further in, she knew now, with his middle finger. Aza pressed the finger to her G-spot. “Oh, yeah, right there.”

“Where? Right here?” He wiggled his finger.

“Yes…keep…doing that.” And he did. Over and over.

Her inner walls began to spasm. She arched her back as her orgasm pulsed around his fingers. This time, she cried out. “Aza!”

He gasped and retracted his hands. “Are you all right? Did I hurt—”

“Not at all.” Her mind and body were in a blissful state. She smiled up at his worried face. “Relax, I’m fine. More than fine.”

“You had an orgasm, then. I’ve heard these throughout my master’s chambers. I think.”

“That beast has sex?”

“He doesn’t always look like a beast in our realm.”

“What does he look like then?”

“More human. With horns. Why do you ask?”

Julia snorted. Was he jealous? “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. Do not speak of him.”

“Sorry, don’t worry, not interested in him. Can you untie my hands?” He unknotted the belt and sat on the end of the bed at her feet. “Hey, anytime you want to do that again…yeah.”

Aza kept quiet.

“You all right? I didn’t traumatize you, did I?” she asked, leaning around him. He clutched his cock. “Oh. You need relief, huh?”

CHAPTER

TWENTY-TWO

Virgil

Maxwell the Healer emerged from the swirling white mist and the portal to Arcadia slammed shut. The double doors located in the basement of the dance club, Eternity, served as the link between Earth and angels’ home realm. Most humans termed the dimension Heaven. Over the millennia, angels had picked up some of the jargon from humans, such as the phrases, ‘Oh, my God’, ‘Heaven forbid’, and his personal favorite, ‘God only knows’. Virgil the Redeemer, didn’t believe God or Deus, as all of Arcadia called him, knew
everything
. The deity was powerful and you didn’t cross him, at least not more than once. Although, Abaddon had been known to blur that line a few times.

While this wasn’t the only way in, it was the only way to return to Earth at the same point in time you left. Max dressed in the clothes he’d discarded on a bench near the portal; items from the Earth’s realm weren’t permitted in Arcadia. Max dyed his hair a different color every other week. The week’s color was apparently cobalt blue.

Virgil eyed the angel and noted his hair reminded him of sunlit sapphires; beautiful, but hideous on the male’s head. Virgil shook his head at Max’s clothes. He wore blue vinyl skintight pants that matched his hair, and no shirt. On his feet were thick-soled black knee-high boots with numerous silver buckles. The only thing that wasn’t ridiculous about the male’s appearance were his wings. Max had the whitest wings he’d ever seen. His own were white, but these beauties were so dazzlingly bright, they glowed. And if you looked closely enough, tiny flashes made them seem as if they sparkled. This word wasn’t masculine, but “sparkled” was the only way to describe it.

The Healer flapped his wings a couple of times then settled them against his backside. He looked up and caught Virgil staring at him. One of his eyebrows raised. “Can I help you with something?”

“No. Well, there is this one thing,” Virgil said. He paused and stroked his Van Dyke into a point.

After a long pause, Max put his palms out. “Well? Out with it.”

“I saw Ra’zael the Guardian.”

The blue-haired angel stilled. “Where?”

“In the hallway of Elliott’s apartment building. He was with an Ephemeral Spirit.”

Max’s eyes narrowed. “What were they doing there?”

Virgil shrugged. “I didn’t ask.”

“You make me tired.” Max ran his fingers through his spiky hair. “Didn’t they do anything? Or did they just stand there with their thumbs up their asses?”

“They knocked on someone’s door, went inside.”

“That’s it?”

“I didn’t see anything else. I went back inside Elliott’s. But he didn’t have wings and seemed afraid of me.”

“And what about the Ephemeral?”

“Female. If I had to guess, somewhere around eighteen, nineteen years old. Strawberry blonde hair. No wings.”

“I think what Deus told me was correct. Ra’zael has fallen.”

“I tend to agree with you. The question is, was it on purpose?”

“That doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“No, not to Abaddon, it doesn’t.” Virgil paced the floor in front of the double doors that led to Arcadia. Deus had banned him from going home unless it was an emergency. He stared at the doors, willing them to open so he could get a glimpse. The doors rattled, but wouldn’t budge. He sighed deeply.

Virgil pivoted on the polished brick floor toward the room. The basement was a secret meeting place for angels in the metro Detroit area, the only way in an elevator from the club above their heads. Eternity was owned by the collective angels in the area. The profits were split equally among the hundred or so angels for living expenses. He walked along the brick path down the center of the great room. The ceiling was high enough to spread your wings, but not so high you could stay in the air for a long period of time without bumping your head. Lavender carpeting lined the floor on either side of the path. Various pieces of furniture were scattered throughout the room, and on any given day, twenty or thirty angels lounged around.

He never paid attention to the tapestries on the walls of female warrior angels in battle with demons. Today was no exception. Passing by the perpetual banquet of food laid out, he picked up a handful of grapes on his way out.

Back at the apartment, he sat on the couch, listening to Amalya and Elliott make love. Twenty minutes after the noises ended, he knew it was safe to join them. He didn’t like to sleep alone. Although he had once been attracted to Amalya, he respected her and her relationship with Elliott. He wouldn’t think of touching her anyway, angel law required hands-off of mated females. If he were to cross the line, even by accident, he’d be subjected to punishment by Elliott. No thanks. He honestly wanted to be around other angels. All the time. Not that that was always a possibility.

Creeping down the hallway, Virgil found the door cracked as always. Amalya was so thoughtful. The angel removed his modified shirt and the rest of his clothing and took his usual spot on the bed, next to Elliott. Both males were on their backs and Amalya, the only one wearing clothing, draped herself over Elliott’s body. He had his arm around her waist beneath her wings. Virgil had no idea how the position could be comfortable. However, he envied them.

The angel adjusted his wings several times until he found a reasonable position without too much pressure on the wrong parts, settled into the mattress, and clasped his hands over his abdomen. Then lifted his head a few times.

Elliott exhaled in exasperation. “Night, Virge.”

“Sorry. I needed to find the right spot to get comfortable.”

“I know. You do this every night,” Elliott spoke through clenched teeth.

Amalya moaned softly. “Will you two
stop?
I’m trying to sleep.”

“Thanks, now she’s mad at both of us.”

Virgil sighed. He didn’t want to be kicked out of the bed, which happened often.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-THREE

Aza’zel

Aza stared at his penis in his hand. The appendage had a talent for making him miserable.

“Um, maybe you should take care of that,” Julia said, breathing over his right shoulder. “It looks painful.”

Yeah, you don’t say
.

He gasped when he repositioned his palm. His penis was a lot more swollen than before he touched her. A small amount of clear liquid wept from the tip. He knew enough to know that this wasn’t the same exact substance that caused babies to grow inside a female’s belly; it was merely the start of something more to come.

“I’d like to help you out, buuut, you won’t let me touch you soooo….”

He threw a glance over his shoulder. She was grinning at him. “This isn’t funny, you know.”

“Oh, I think it kind of is.” She giggled and flopped back onto the mattress.

Aza staggered toward the bathroom. He didn’t make the entire trip.

“Aza. Let me help you, all right?”

Yes
.

“No, I-I don’t need any—” His chest tightened and his heart thumped harder.

“Come here.” Julia patted the bed beside her. “I won’t touch you.”

He wandered back over to her and stood at the foot of the bed. She’d laid back down and spread her legs.

Not having sex. Not having sex.

“We’re not having sex,” she stated.

“Good.” Her eyes widened. “I mean, that’s a good idea.” He panted, ogling her feminine curves. Her breasts were full and round. Aza blinked a couple of times.

“You know what to do, right?” she asked.

“I think so.” He gripped himself hard and started stroking his manhood.

“Hey, hey, hey, not so tight, you’re gonna hurt yourself. Loosen your grip.” He did what she told him and what do you know? It felt so good. Too good. His knees weakened and he closed his eyes.

“Aza, use the bed. Put your knee…”

Aza kneeled on the bed, looming between her legs, but didn’t make contact with her skin.

“There. That’s better, isn’t it?” He didn’t know how that was going to help.

Oh. Ohhh.
Her hand went to her sex. Her lips parted and she moaned.

“Y-Yeah,” he gasped. His whole body tensed, from his toes to the top of his head. A split second of acute fear made him sweaty then it dissipated. “Oh, shit!” Something was happening; he spilled all over her core in short bursts. Three, four times, he didn’t know. His hand slipped and landed on the bed. He hung his head low. Her breasts jiggled as she laughed. “You are laughing at me?”

“God, no. It’s just you’re sexy and I liked watching you come.”

“You are happy then?” He pressed his face into his bicep; he didn’t want her to see him smile.