Her Wicked Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 6) (22 page)

He nodded.

“Just because you’re both pigs, and I mentioned that, doesn’t mean I think you’re like him. I have it on good authority that all angels are pigs.”

He opened his eyes and she smiled at him.

“You look like hell.” Her smile turned a little bit awkward and guilty. “I think I might have lost my temper a little and my magic tends to control me then…”

She touched his chin and white-hot fire burned along his jaw. She flinched for him, as if she had sensed it, and then the pain dulled, fading away, and he knew she was healing him.

He wanted to heal her too.

He had hurt her.

“I did not mean it,” he whispered, barely moving his lips, afraid that she might fuse together the wrong parts if he moved while she was healing him. She looked at him, a flicker of confusion breaking through the concern in her bright hazel eyes. He spelled it out for her. “I do not desire to have sex with your cousin.”

Her lips trembled.

Either she was about to cry or she was trying hard not to smile.

“What about the woman in the supermarket who was trying to seduce you?” She managed to stifle her smile and scowled at him.

“I refused her advances.”

“Was she offering this wicked cocktail of coffee in a small, possibly paper cup, while wearing a big stupid fake smile?” Liora said and stroked his jaw. He nodded. She smiled now and it was not reassuring. It was teasing and had a faint mocking edge to it. “It was a sample. Supermarkets sometimes offer samples of items they want to sell lots of. The French love coffee almost as much as the Italians do. She wasn’t trying to seduce you.”

He held back his own smile, knowing she was likely to hit or kick him again if she saw it. “She was persistent, and now I think back, her smile was… flirtatious.”

Liora ground her teeth. “Keep it up and you will have bruised balls and you’ll be taking me back to the mortal world so I can do some terrorizing of my own.”

Asmodeus caught her wrist, pulled her down to him and kissed her. He expected her to pull away and slap him again, either physically or verbally, but she melted into him, settling her breasts against his chest and curling up beside him.

“Forgiven?” he whispered against her lips and peppered them with kisses.

She scrunched her nose up, wriggled her lips and then smiled. “It depends. Are you sober?”

Asmodeus did a mental body check. “I don’t know. It is hard to tell through the throbbing in my head. It may be the result of the alcohol or my girlfriend’s wrath.”

She smiled properly at last. “You called me your girlfriend.”

“So? You called me your boyfriend first.”

“I did?”

He nodded. “You said evil angels made the best boyfriends… and then you said we could have sex later.”

“And then you wrecked your chances by getting drunk and being a shit.”

He frowned at her, tried to prepare a defence to counter her accusation, and failed. “No sex?”

“You are still drunk.” She kissed the tip of his nose. “If you weren’t drunk, you wouldn’t be so forward about this or so relaxed.”

“I would not?” He edged his hands down to the small of her back, inching towards her bottom.

She shook her head. “Nope. Not a chance, Buster. You blew it.”

“You blew me.” He grinned.

“Mother Earth! See, this is why I know you’re drunk. You’re vulgar and crass. Like every other male in the world.”

Asmodeus scowled. “Not like every man.”

She didn’t agree with him. She walked her fingers across his chest and then pressed her palms against it and pushed. She was getting up. Asmodeus tightened his grip, pinning her against him.

“Stay.” He held her even when she wriggled and frowned. “Stay, sweet little Liora.”

“It’s not very comfortable.” A reasonable rejoinder.

“Then I will take you somewhere more comfortable and we can lie together.”

She didn’t look as though she was going to go along with that one. “I’m still hungry. Someone got drunk and raucous, and got himself into trouble with his woman, and that woman is still hungry.”

Asmodeus relented and loosened his grip on her. She wriggled out of his arms, the action brushing her breasts across his chest in the most tormenting way.

Remus whined and gave him a sympathetic look. Asmodeus spoke to him in the demon tongue, wishing him better fortune when he found a female of his own. They were complicated, temperamental creatures.

He hauled himself onto his feet, straightened his wings and tore his wrecked shirt off. Liora glanced at him and then her eyes drifted back to him, lingering on his bare chest. Not that complicated at times. His female liked his body and the way she was staring told him that she would reconsider her refusal of his advances if he remained this way for long enough.

He was feeling like a spoilsport today though.

He called another item of clothing to him, a shirt he had altered, focusing so it fitted perfectly over his wings. He considered buttoning it but liked the way Liora’s gaze kept zipping to the slice of bare chest and stomach she could see between the two open sides of the black shirt.

She bit into an apple in a way that left him feeling she wanted to take a bite out of him.

He moved to the table, sat on it, crossed his legs, and picked up a small black sketchbook he had acquired in the supermarket. He took up a pencil stub and studied Liora as she picked through the food, sketching her in a moment when she tucked her long chestnut hair behind her ear and her lips parted, her gaze cast down at something on the table. Beautiful. His fingers made swift work of capturing her and by the time she had selected her next item of food, he had finished the sketch.

She looked over at him, frowned and tiptoed, attempting to peer at the drawing. He held it against his chest.

“Private,” he said and peeked at it, teasing her.

She sidled closer, rolling another apple along the table beside her, and her dire attempt to look casual and uninterested brought a smile to his lips. She was a terrible actor.

Liora lunged for the small book with her free hand but he saw the attempt coming before it had even formed as an idea in her head. He beat his wings and shot backwards, far beyond her reach, and landed in the corner of the room.

He leisurely perused the drawing, going so far as to hold it out before him, comparing it to her.

She planted her hands on her hips and glared daggers at him.

“I will let you see it,” he said and she brightened. “If you pay me.”

“Pay you how?” Her glare turned suspicious but darkened with unmistakable desire at the same time. Wicked girl. He wasn’t asking her to offer that much in return for the drawing.

 “A kiss.” He held it out to her.

“That all?”

“Feel free to bargain for a higher price.” He waggled the book. “If you want to pay more, I could be convinced.”

“A kiss it is.” She crossed the room to him and he held the book above his head, not convinced that she wouldn’t try to steal it and leave him down a kiss.

She sighed, grabbed the collar of his shirt in both hands, dragged him down and captured his mouth with her own. It was more than a kiss. The way her lips danced against his and her tongue teased, flicking over and swiping at his lower lip, luring him into wanting to taste her in a similar fashion, intoxicated him more than the vodka had. He groaned and closed his eyes and claimed her mouth, kissing her harder and eliciting a moan from her that burned through him, making him forget what they were doing. The only thing that mattered was this kiss.

He wrapped his arms around her and she was gone, twirled from his embrace, her high giggle ringing around him.

Asmodeus huffed.

Tricked.

“Witch,” he muttered and she mimicked him, waggling the book as she danced back across the room to her food stash.

She opened the book and her laughter died, her actions ceasing. She stared down at the drawing with a blank expression on her face and his heart beat hard against his chest, uncertainty creeping through his veins and taking hold of him, leaving him with a head full of doubts. Did she not like it?

She had admired his other drawings and paintings. She had to admire this one too. He had drawn it for her. He had never drawn anything for anyone before, had kept his passion a secret, something private and for his eyes only. Her praise had given him the courage to draw for her, to show what was a rough sketch rather than a finished perfected drawing to her because he thought she might like it.

He stepped towards her, intent on taking it back and cursing her, and she looked up at him and blinked.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “This is really how you see me?”

He shook his head. “It is how you are, not how I see you. You are beautiful. I am afraid my skill does not do you justice.”

She smiled. “Flattery like that might earn you another kiss.”

Asmodeus rounded the table to her and picked up the apple she had discarded. He rolled it between his palms, careful not to damage it with his strength, and studied her as she alternated between looking over the food and looking at the picture he had drawn. Sometimes she glanced at him too, a blush touching her cheeks. At least she was no longer angry with him.

And he was no longer drunk.

Liora opened a different drink and swigged from the bottle between bites of apple, biscuits and other savoury items he had brought her. She offered him a strip of dark chocolate. He had no need to eat right now, didn’t feel hunger as she did, but he wanted to taste the food with her. He stepped up to her and she held the chocolate higher, closer to his mouth. Asmodeus bit the strip in half and savoured the slightly bitter yet sweet taste.

He sampled the other items she had opened. Something she explained was a fried potato chip that tasted salty, various nuts that all tasted vaguely the same to him, and more biscuits. He decided he liked sweet things. Like Liora.

He stood behind her, slipped his arms beneath hers and settled them around her waist, holding her with her back pressing against his front. She continued eating, working her way through most of a packet of pale creamy biscuits and finishing her apple and a bottle of water.

Asmodeus leaned down and rested his chin on her shoulder. She fed him a strawberry and made a click of chastisement when he took her fingers into his mouth with it.

“You’re still in the doghouse.” She pulled her fingers from his lips and poked his nose. “Besides, I’m full and now I’m tired.”

He had no idea how mortal bodies worked. It didn’t make sense that she had eaten her fill and now she was more tired than before, when she had been hungry. He also wasn’t sure how long a mortal could live without sleep before their body began to shut down and became useless to them.

Liora had been awake for what mortals perceived as days, and she had been through much in that short span of time. It had likely taken its toll on her and now that he was close to her and was aware of her tiredness, he could sense her weakening.

“You really don’t sleep?” She tilted her head and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He shook his head. She sighed. “I can’t imagine what it would be like to never sleep… never dream.”

Asmodeus felt as though he was dreaming now, with her in his arms like this, trusting him to keep her safe. He felt extremely protective of her and it had been one hell of a long few days. He couldn’t imagine what would happen next. Whatever happened, he needed to think before he spoke. He needed to take more care or she would end up smashing the heart he had given to her.

“Do you have a bedroom?” she whispered and his body ached, growing hard at the thought of laying her down on a sumptuous bed and sending her off into good dreams by worshipping every inch of her.

“No.” Not anything he could definitely call a bedroom anyway.

“All these rooms and no bedroom?” She sounded as if she was teasing him again now.

“I can make one for you, but it will take me time. I will need to return to the mortal realm and acquire necessary items.” He didn’t mind the challenge of hunting for a good bed and comfortable mattress for his Liora, but he didn’t want to leave her when she was tired and vulnerable, weak from fatigue.

What else could he do though? She needed to rest and he had no comfortable bed to offer her.

“How comfy is your throne?” She looked towards it where it lay toppled on the black stone floor.

“Moderately.”

She yawned. “Could you sit in it for a few hours?”

He arched an eyebrow, unsure where she was going with her questions. Was she meaning to sleep in his throne? It was not that comfortable. She was petite and soft, unaccustomed to the firm seat.

“Possibly.” He had sat in it for hours before with no negative effect on him.

“Good.” Liora twisted out of his arms, took hold of his hand and led him to the throne. He righted it for her so she could sit on it. She moved around in front of him and pushed him backwards, towards the seat. “Sit.”

Asmodeus obeyed, settling himself in the chair, ensuring his wings were comfortable.

Liora surprised him by sitting down on his thighs and curling up against him, pulling her knees close to her chest.

He liked this.

He wrapped his arms around her and then his wings, tucking her in and ensuring she would be warm and would feel safe enough to sleep. He would watch over her. The fire crackled in the grate. Remus shifted restlessly and poked one paw in Romulus’s right eye. Romulus growled sleepily.

Liora was sound asleep.

Asmodeus watched her, studying her face as she slumbered. She was beautiful in sleep, her features soft and dainty and her long chestnut hair curling around her black silk robe covered shoulders. He couldn’t believe how much she trusted him, giving him the honour of protecting her when she was at her most vulnerable.

He had never protected anyone before Liora had come into his life, turning his world upside down, shaking his carefully constructed image to reveal the side of himself he had always hidden because he had believed it made him weak and would make others turn on him.

It had drawn Liora to him.

A familiar tug yanked his chest and Asmodeus held Liora closer to him. Her head settled against his chest, her warm breath skating over his skin. He refused to heed his master’s command. The Devil had never been able to break his will as he could with his Hell’s angels, easily forcing them to do something against their desire.