Her Wicked Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 6) (16 page)

He held his hand out with his palm facing her and she sucked down a breath for courage and then pressed her fingers against his wet ones. Nothing happened other than a jolt of electricity shocking every nerve along her arm as they touched. Asmodeus’s eyes darkened again and her pulse picked up, nerves kicking it into overdrive.

If she bathed him as she had said she wanted to then she wasn’t going to stop there. Once she laid her hands on the delicious six-foot-plus of sexy before her, she wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation to take things to the next level. Once she pushed him over that ledge, there would be no coming back. He wouldn’t settle for just a taste of her. She knew that. He would want all of her and she would be powerless to deny him.

“You’re sure people can’t see us here?” She cast a glance around at the hills above and the plain behind her.

“The only people in Hell are in the Devil’s prisons… but demons do not come here, and nor do Hell’s angels. We are alone, Liora.”

And he liked it. She could hear it in his voice and the way it dropped to a sultry growl. He had her all to himself and he was in his element, and there would be no stopping him now. He wanted her. She shivered at the thought of him touching her, teasing her flesh with his warm tongue and scraping fangs over her breasts, her thighs. Her belly fluttered and heated.

“You think wicked things,” Asmodeus drawled in a gruff, thick voice heavy with hunger and passion.

She nodded and bit her lower lip. She thought very wicked things indeed, and now that she had him all to herself and he was in his element, there would be no stopping her.

Liora stepped towards him and trailed her fingers down his bare chest and over the hard ridges of his stomach. She lingered close to his navel before running her fingertips over the waist of the armour that protected his hips.

“You can’t bathe in this,” she whispered, shocked by how breathless she sounded. “It’ll get rusty.”

His lips quirked again and fire filled his eyes, hunger that echoed within her. He captured her hands, held them a moment, and then moved them away from his waist.

Liora stepped back so she could fully admire him as he stripped off the metal armour around his hips, revealing the black loincloth he wore beneath. If she had sounded breathless before, she could barely speak now. He stole her voice as he moved, his powerful cut muscles bunching and relaxing, enticing her to stop him so she could trail her lips over each and every one of them and moan her approval. He bent and removed the armour that protected his shins, and then his black leather boots.

He placed them carefully near the pool and she bit back a smile. He valued what little armour he had and she could understand why. He had already lost vital pieces of it, leaving him exposed and vulnerable. If she could, she would hire the best blacksmiths in the world to craft armour of his liking and give it to him so he felt complete again.

Asmodeus turned his back to her and all rational thought fled at the sight of his delicious backside wonderfully cupped by tight black material. Liora wanted to rip it off with her teeth.

He ran his hands around the waist, paused, glanced back at her and then lowered his hands to his sides. She allowed a small smile to break free at the brief display of nerves and uncertainty. She had meant nude bathing but it seemed he wasn’t quite ready to take that step. If she hadn’t thought him innocent in that department before, she would have thought it now. He had never been naked before a woman, and she wanted to be his first.

He stepped into the pool and the milky water covered him to his knees. It was deeper than she had expected it to be. On her, the surface would be somewhere around mid-thigh and stepping down into it was going to be a challenge.

Asmodeus moved to the edge of the pool opposite her, casually sat down and ducked his head under the water. Liora wanted a slow-motion replay of the moment he surfaced, droplets of water racing over his dirty skin, pushed his wet black hair back with one hand and pinned her with his intense, fiery eyes.

The confidence in them wavered as she crouched and tested the water for herself. It was hot, maybe a degree or two too much for her taste, but it didn’t eat her hand like acid and she really was itching for a bath.

Liora straightened and hesitated only a second before grabbing the hem of her crimson top and pulling it off over her head. She felt Asmodeus’s gaze on her stomach the second she revealed it and the intensity of his eyes on her and the way she always felt aware of him made her belly flutter again.

She held it together, refusing to show her nerves, and dropped her top on the ground behind her. Asmodeus’s gaze remained rooted on her stomach, darkening by degrees, verging on red again. Clearly, anger wasn’t the only emotion that triggered a change in his eyes.

She tackled her belt and was popping the button on her jeans when he caught on and caught up, and his eyes darted down, following her every move as she unzipped her jeans and then pushed them down her legs. It gave her the courage to keep going even as the confidence was draining from his eyes, his nerves surfacing again. She toed off her boots, stepped out of her jeans and straightened so Asmodeus could get a good view of her. She had ogled him after all. It was only fair she let him do the same.

He growled low in his throat, his eyes burning crimson now, swirling with gold fire.

Liora blushed.

It was the first time a man had growled his approval of her slender build and she wasn’t going to deny that there was something wicked and sexy about the way he chose to let her know that he liked what he saw. Dangerous.

His confidence was clinging on for dear life though. She could see it in the depths of his eyes and the way they flickered between hers and her body, and the water.

Liora decided to have mercy on him.

He had remained in his underwear-of-sorts. She would remain in hers. Small steps. It wouldn’t do to push him too far and make him feel mocked. She had seen how violently he could react to feeling belittled and shamed and she didn’t want anything to spoil this moment. She would play things cool, take her time, and let it all progress at a natural speed. Asmodeus was used to being in control. Liora wasn’t averse to letting him take the lead. It would be a nice change.

She stepped down into the pool and rather awkwardly ended up almost falling in face first because of the difference in height between the plain and the bottom of the hot spring.

Another blush crept up her cheeks and she masked it by cupping some water and pouring it over her hair, and then slicking it back from her face. Asmodeus didn’t seem to notice her embarrassment at all. He was too busy staring at her breasts and the beads of water trailing down her skin and soaking into her black bra.

Liora waded towards him. His expression turned uneasy and he leaned back against the side of the pool and rested his arms along it in what would have been a casual way had he not looked half scared out of his wits.

She held back another smile and sank lower in the middle of the pool, letting it lap at her hips.

A moan escaped her, tugging another husky growl from her dark angel. She wouldn’t have been able to hold it in even if she had tried.

The water felt wonderful, hot and steamy, and fresh. The air around the pool didn’t smell as much as that around the castle and she breathed deep of it, savouring the slight salty tang that laced it. Minerals? She had done a couple of mineral soaks in her life and had always felt wonderful afterwards. The barely leashed passion in Asmodeus’s eyes said she would feel wonderful after this bath too, but it wouldn’t be because of the minerals.

“How can you stand the stink in this place?” She remained in the middle of the pool and dipped lower, sinking down to her shoulders, giving him time to build his confidence back up and vanquish his fears.

Asmodeus looked beyond her, towards the fortress, and then off to his right, his gaze distant. “It is far worse near the pit, where the Devil resides and several of the primary lava rivers of Hell converge.”

“Lava rivers… how nice. Is this the only water in Hell?”

He shook his head, causing his jet-black hair to spike in places and droplets of water to spill onto his forehead and roll down. Liora wanted to lick them off his skin.

She edged closer.

He bent his right leg, his knee breaching the surface, and tipped his head back, captivating her. She paused again. He was beautiful and wicked, his eyebrows black slashes that cut above his incredible fiery eyes, his jaw strong and straight, and his lips profanely sensual and firm, made for kissing and wicked things. He was beautiful and he didn’t know just how handsome he was, and she liked that.

He was nothing like Apollyon. They were similar enough that anyone who met them would think them twins, but they weren’t the same. Now that she knew Asmodeus, she could see just how different he was to Apollyon.

It was strange looking at Asmodeus and knowing her cousin was in love with his twin. Liora had never felt attracted to Apollyon. He was too stuffy and haughty, too dull and focused on avoiding trouble, and that took something away from him that even his good looks couldn’t make up for.

He lacked the vital spark that Asmodeus had—the instant fire that had ignited the moment she had set eyes on him and now burned between them like an inferno, sweeping through her every time their gazes met or bodies touched.

It wasn’t just that fire that attracted her to him though.

She preferred Asmodeus’s wild hair and golden eyes, and his wicked personality.

She loved his fearlessness and how he would fight the Devil himself in order to protect her.

He wasn’t one for diplomatic solutions and thinking things through before acting.

He was reckless, brash, dangerous and a little bit crazy.

Just like her.

Liora moved silently through the water and settled before him, kneeling between his feet.

He tensed when she reached for his right knee where it breached the surface of the opaque steaming water. Liora held back, fingers hovering an inch above his skin, giving him a chance to become accustomed to this because she had a suspicion this was another first for him.

A suspicion she wanted to hear him confirm.

“No one has ever bathed with you before?” She kept her voice even and calm, betraying none of her nerves or the jealous thoughts slowly surfacing at the back of her mind.

Those black thoughts made her realise that her question was about more than confirming suspicions. She needed to hear him tell her that no other female had been given the pleasure of touching him. She needed it with a ferocity that shocked her. She had never been inclined towards jealous fits before, but then she had never been with a man like Asmodeus, a man she wanted to be all hers and no one else’s. She wanted to covet this powerful male sitting before her. She wanted to possess him.

He seemed more relaxed now, his power flowing around her at a sedate level, mingling with her own returning magic. She liked how their powers did that at times, twining together, as if they were lovers.

Asmodeus finally shook his head.

Liora smiled and squashed a few jealous notions. “Would you like me to wash you, Asmodeus?”

“Yes.” His tone turned gravelly again, edged with barely restrained hunger. He very much wanted her to wash him.

Her smile widened and then faded when his face fell and his eyes turned cold and empty.

“Have you washed many males?” he bit out, a harsh snap in his voice that made her smile inside although she would never dare let him know that she was on to him.

She liked the jealous hiss in his tone, the dark glowering look on his face, and the possessive way his eyes held hers, as if he was her master now and he would not allow her to refuse to answer. She liked that she wasn’t the only one becoming a victim of that snake that lived inside all sentient beings and the vicious words it hissed in their ears.

Liora laid her hand on his right knee and felt a glimmer of his pain and how much waiting for her answer was tormenting him together with other questions he had yet to voice, but she could guess at.

“No, I have never bathed with a man.” She slid her hand down his shin to the water, cupped it and brought it up over his knee, gently washing away the grime.

His expression warmed again and she felt him relax beneath her hand.

Liora really couldn’t help teasing him. “Does that please you?”

“Yes.” Very gruff. She smiled now, unafraid to show that his jealousy pleased her.

“You like that I’ve only done this with you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” She ran her fingers in expanding circles around his knee, growing outwards from the centre of his kneecap, teasing his fine dark hairs and taking care not to apply any pressure to the black bruise on the left side.

He narrowed his heated gaze on her and the possessive edge it gained thrilled her.

“Because you are mine.”

Her heart did a ridiculous fluttering thing over that. She swallowed to stop it. He looked so serious that she felt like teasing him further but her voice failed her.

Liora focused on washing the blood off his thighs beneath the water to quell the urge to kiss him breathless and it wasn’t long before he was breathless anyway, leaning back against the edge of the pool with his eyes closed and lips parted, and nostrils flaring as his body tensed with each sweep of her hands. He liked this. He enjoyed how she touched him and being cleaned by her.

She suspected it was more than that though. Everything always had a deeper meaning with this man. He liked what they were doing because she was caring for him, and she knew without a doubt that no one had ever cared for him before, tending to his wounds and washing the blood of battle from his tired body. No one had ever shown him this affection, the softer side of mortal and immortal nature.

Liora ran her palm down his thigh beneath the surface, feeling the strength in his toned sinewy muscles, enjoying this moment too.

The milky water hid everything beneath the surface from view but Liora was a betting woman and she had good odds that if she moved her hands a few inches east, she would find him steel-hard and straining against his loincloth.