Ascension (13 page)

It was her turn to gasp as he sat up and pulled her down beside him. His lips conquered hers, plundering her mouth. His hand slid between her legs spreading her juices over the sensitive nub before swirling around it.

She cried out, but the sound was muffled by his zealous kisses.

Gabriel moved lower, took her nipple into his mouth and sucked to the point of pain. His harsh treatment of her sensitive peak sparked exquisite delight. He moved lower, covered her pearl with his mouth and sucked.

She gasped for enough air to ask for more, but no words would push past the swell of pleasure.

He teased with his tongue and then sucked hard nearly bringing on the crescendo she so desired. Caught in the swirling storm, she trembled with forces out of control.

Gabriel stopped.

She opened her eyes to find him gazing at her, his mouth and chin glistening with her juices.

He licked along her slit teasing her. “I want you to come again for me, my love.”

“I can’t”

“You can.” He covered her again, sucking and rubbing with his tongue while pressing his fingers inside her. He nipped her bud and rapture cascaded over and through her. She pulsed around his fingers. It was too much, she yearned for more. She turn into the pillow to keep from waking the house.

He climbed on top of her and held her while the waves of ecstasy passed. “Bella, look at me.” He rested on his elbows above her. His shaft probed her entrance and he held there waiting for permission.

“It is all right, Gabriel.” She touched the side of his face and her hand trembled. Longing for more and fearing the unknown, she gave in to her faith in Gabriel.

He eased forward and her opening stretched. The stretching sensation was slightly uncomfortable, but she adjusted, and he pulled back. He moved forward again, covered her mouth with his and thrust. He held her while she adjusted to his size.

He slid back. “Bella, gentle your grip please.”

Her short nails were buried in his skin. She relaxed her hand and the blood on her fingers caused panic to bloom in her chest. “I’m sorry, Gabriel. I did not mean—”

“Shh. It’s all right.” He slid forward again.

No pain. Pleasure spread out from her core.

Gabriel pulled her bottom lip between his and continued to glide forward and back.

She raced toward the bliss he promised, trembled with need, and excruciating delight.

He drove harder and faster, but the kiss remained gentle and loving. The vibration of his moan against her mouth increased her pleasure and another orgasm stirred deep inside her. They crashed together as waves in a storm.

He stiffened, reached between them and rubbed her bud. He was rough, and she exploded under his fingers. He continued to pump into her once, twice, and then he cried out. His rod jerked within her, filling her.

He rolled to one side, and she protested. She relished his weight on top of her. He only laughed and hugged her to his side.

“Thank you, Bella. That was a glorious gift you gave me.”

The delight she had experienced made his words seem silly. “I think the gifts were of equal value.” She yawned.

“Sleep now.” He chuckled and kissed her forehead.

“I am tired. Do not leave me, Gabriel. Claire will not come in. She always lets me sleep late after a battle night. We will not be disturbed until I call for her. Promise you will stay.” She couldn’t bear the idea that she would wake up alone after all they had shared. Not only the sexual encounter, but the night of battle, bonded them in a new way. She wanted to feel him next to her as she slept and talk to him when she woke. Her heart pounded faster at the idea of remaining in such an intimate position throughout the night.

“I will stay, if that is your wish, Bella.”

“It is my wish.” Sleep took her and she wasn’t sure if the words had made it out before she drifted off.

Gabriel hadn’t slept. How could he? Belinda was completely naked and tucked in next to his body. Not to mention all he had seen and done the evening before. His mind refused to shut down. He caressed the curve of her hip under the covers while her even breath told him that she did not suffer from insomnia.

He had fought demons in an abandon building inside the city of London. Even as he thought it, he knew the madness of the memory. Belinda, his sweet fiancée was a demon hunter. And, not only that, she was a magnificent warrior. He had never seen anyone as graceful and deadly with blades. Then she had made love with him. He sighed and pulled her tighter, her back to his chest. She had been fearless and beautiful. The entire world had gone insane, and he was in the center of it.

Light began to filter through the curtains. Belinda stirred in his arms. Her eyes opened and she turned her head and looked at him. Her mass of hair covered her face. He pushed it aside, and she smiled up at him.

His heart beat so rapidly, it might collapse from the strain of seeing her smile at him at that early hour.

“Did you sleep?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Not much.”

“I am sorry. I could not stay awake with you. You must have many questions.”

He sat up against the headboard, and she immediately moved to lean against him. “It is all right. You were tired.”

“Do you want to ask them now?”

“Are you going to marry me?” It was the only question he could think of. The rest of his worries were too unfathomable to put into words just then.

Her eyes widened, a blush flooded her cheeks and her lips bowed. “That is not the question I was expecting.”

“Will you answer?”

“I do not know. Are you going to demand your wife stop her demon hunting ways?”

A short, sharp laugh escaped while his emotions churned in a whirlwind. “I do not know. It seems it would be difficult to deny you anything, Bella. Yet the idea of you risking your life, gives me a knot in my belly that I do not know if I can live with.”

“Then I cannot make any decisions at this time. Frankly, I’m surprised you still wish to marry me.” Her voice was a little sad but not angry or defensive.

“I love you, Bella. Demon hunter or simple girl, nothing will ever change that fact.”

Another lovely blush warmed her cheeks. “Would you like to talk about the hunting?”

He took a deep breath. “No. I need more time. I saw a book in your library yesterday. Perhaps I might borrow it.”

She nodded. “I understand. Take whatever you wish. I have read them all.”

They held each other silently. He loved the feel of her snuggled in against his side, her breath matching his as if they were one.

“Gabriel, I wonder if you would tell me about France?”

His stomach tightened. He’d never spoken of his war experience, but the idea of speaking about the horrors of his experience on the continent less troubling than what he had seen near the docks of London.

She misunderstood his silence. “If you do not want to talk about it, I can understand.”

He kissed her hair and breathed in her warm flowery scent. “I will tell you.”

Where to start? His brain screamed out for him to say nothing. He was already formulating a flowery lie that would keep her quiet and forestall any other inquiries. Then his mouth opened and he started to tell her about France. Not the pretty country that lovers back from a grand tour prattle on about. France in the way he knew it really was. “Battles in reality were much different than what I’d imagined before I left England. Messy business. Men whom I had trained with lay dead in mud that ran red with their blood, but I had to move forward and fight. There is no time for grief in war. After a few months, some men would lose their minds. That was almost worse than seeing them killed. Those men went home in shame, but I could not blame them for their madness. War breeds it and feeds it.

“I was able to keep my head, though how, I cannot say. Two years into my service, we were hiding behind a burned out, abandoned barn when we were surprised from behind and captured.”

“Who was with you?” she asked.

He didn’t know when she had taken his hand, but he liked the feel of her tapered fingers entwined with his. He studied her fair skin against his tanned hands. Her hands were very feminine looking even though the palm and fingers were calloused from gripping a sword.

“Two young men who did not survive the first night. They were tortured and killed while I watched and could do nothing.”

“Why were you not treated the same?” Her voice was higher than normal and the words were said just above a whisper.

He strained to keep his tone even. He couldn’t think of those boys and how they died or he would never get through the telling without embarrassing himself in a flood of tears. “I was an officer. My captors believed that I could give them strategic information that would help their efforts. Those two boys were killed to try to convince me to tell them what I knew.”

“You did not have the information.” She said and looked up into his eyes.

He kissed her sweet, little nose. “I had all the information they could want and more. If I had told them what I knew, the war could have ended an entirely different way and those two boys would have died for nothing.”

She was silent.

What was she thinking? He’d lost count of how many times he’d wondered if he’d done the right thing. Could he have saved those men? He brushed away his doubts and continued the story. “They kept me in a prison off the coast of France for two years. Periodically they would torture me or tell me that the war was over and Napoleon had won. They thought that by telling me this, I would realize that I was never going to leave the prison, and the secrets I kept had no meaning. I was trained to believe nothing my captors told me and I continued to keep my silence.

“In the last half of my second year of imprisonment, I was given a cellmate. He was older, English, very thin and in poor health. His name was Reggie. I liked him. It was good to have someone to talk to. I had been alone for a long time. Any company was a blessing.

“Of course they would beat him regularly and tell me that they would stop as soon as I told them all they wanted to know. I said nothing. After each beating, I would take care of Reggie’s wounds. He begged me to talk. He was dying and I was letting it happen. He cried in my arms one night pleading with me to tell them what they wanted to know. I might have done it too.”

Gabriel’s gut twisted with the memory. Tears stung behind his eyes, though he wouldn’t let them spill. He stopped his tale.

“What happened? Did Reggie die?” Her voice was the sweetest medicine for his pain.

He shook his head. “No. At least, not by the hands of the French. The next day I was liberated from the prison. Reggie it seems was a turncoat and a spy, and he had nearly succeeded in getting me to tell them everything. He was hanged in the courtyard on the same day I was saved.”

Neither one of them spoke. The sun left a path of light on the bed. Gabriel’s heart lightened. He had not told anyone about his experience since his debriefing.

Belinda had tears in her eyes, and they were for his pain. She understood, sympathized. She shared his torment.

She turned and straddled his lap, tears still brimming in her sapphire eyes. “Can you see why I cannot stop my own fight? It is the same.”

The problem was, he could completely understand. That didn’t mean he wanted his wife in danger all the time.

“Tell me about your training. Where are demon hunters trained?” He pulled her down so that her chest pressed to his and kissed her neck.

A sigh spilled from her lips.

“Most are trained somewhere in Scotland. I was trained here in London.”

“Why did you not go to Scotland?”

Her shoulders rose and fell within his embrace. “I have no idea. I was not offered a place at the school. They sent Brice here to London to train me.”

“Who is Brice?” A pang of jealousy clutched at him, but he ignored it. It was less serious than his mistrust regarding Foxjohn.

“Brice Lambert is the director of the hunter school. He is an astounding fighter.” Belinda said this matter-of-factly, but with a touch of reverence.

“Why does an astounding fighter teach rather than fight?” Gabriel asked, though he already suspected he knew the answer.

She sat up and looked at him. She was more beautiful than ever, sitting astride him with her hair tousled from sleep. She remained naked and completely unashamed of her beautiful body.

He ran his fingers along her ribs and allowed his thumb to graze her nipple. It pebbled under his touch.

She closed her eyes. “Brice was badly injured and requested a new assignment. His pain can compromise a situation, and he will not risk anyone else’s life.”

His hand stilled. “So then you recognize that you can be injured, Bella. You might even be killed.”

She smiled sadly. “It is a way of life, Gabriel. Anyone might be killed or worse, captured. I take the risk of my own free will.”

Her nobility was as terrifying as it was arousing. His cock pressed against her wet center, and he pulled her ass forward so that she rode along his hard shaft. He had more questions, hundreds of them. But he couldn’t ask them while his Bella was naked and her eyes showed her desire was equal to his. The questions would wait.

She moaned and threw her head back as her hands came up and gripped her breasts and squeezed.

“My god, Bella, you are incredible.”

She took over the motion, moving forward and back, teasing both of them while his cock slid between her wet folds.

He lifted her hips and settled her on the tip of his cock.

Her eyes widened as with the delights of the new position. She settled onto his rigid shaft and sighed.

Soon, she rose on her knees and plunged down in her own time. Her mouth formed an “o” and small cries of pleasure pulsed through the room.

The sound of her rapture escalated his own, bringing his climax closer. The sweet suction of her gloving him was enough to drive him over the edge more quickly than he’d planned. He wanted her to fall with him.

Pressing his thumb against her swollen bud, Gabriel rubbed first slowly.