Revenant (14 page)

“Sex,” she said, lowering her voice to a husky, deep False Angel drawl that drew males like a magnet. “I’ll fuck you if you’ll take me to Underworld General.” His gaze darkened dangerously. “But only once. Just enough for you to get me out of your system.”

Male triumph lit his expression. “Agreed,” he rumbled. “I’m sure once will be enough. It always is.”

She should have been happy to hear those words. At best, sex had never been anything but a pleasant diversion from real life, and at worst, it had been a necessary cover for her False Angel persona. But for some reason, Revenant’s casual acquiescence stung. It made no sense, was completely illogical.

And yet, as she stepped into his hard body and his erection pressed into her belly, all she could think was that his interest in her had never been about
her
.

It had always been about his dick.

“One more thing,” she said.

His hands closed on her hips, gripping them possessively. “What’s that?”

Very deliberately, she grasped his arms and shoved them away from her body. “You don’t touch me unless I tell you to. Not with your hands, not with your mouth, and not with your fangs.”

He looked like he’d been slapped. “Say again?”

“Those are the rules. During sex, you don’t touch me. After the sex, you take me to UG.”

“Why the fuck can’t I touch you?” he growled.

“Because I don’t trust you. Show me that you can keep your word. Show me you can keep yourself under control.”

A vein in his temple throbbed. “This is a… rule?”

“Yes.”

For a long time he stood there, so motionless she couldn’t even see the rise and fall of his chest. And then he inclined his head, his black-as-midnight hair falling forward in a sexy curtain she wanted to wrap around her body.

“If that’s the only way I can have you, then so be it.”

Casting him a sultry False Angel smile, she slid her fingers beneath his waistband and tugged him toward what she hoped was his bedroom. If not, her take-charge attitude was going to fizzle like a rain-drenched campfire and she’d look like a fool.

But, she supposed, looking like a fool was better than being dead.

Revenant’s body was on fire.

As he let Blaspheme lead him to his bedroom, he marveled at how easily his little False Angel had gotten him to concede to her demands. He’d always been the one to control sexual encounters, to say when, where, and how it all went down. Hell, when a female
went down
, it was because
he
wanted her to.

And now this gorgeous, mysterious False Angel was leading him around by his cock, literally, and he was allowing it.

But then, at the end of the day, he was male, and he’d do pretty much anything for sex. Truly, if more females understood the power they held over males, they’d rule all the realms.

He willed the candles in the wall sconces to light up as they entered the bedroom.

“Dungeon chic,” Blaspheme said, taking in the shackles anchored to the stone walls. “Nice. And a little cliché, don’t you think?”

“Clichés exist for a reason.” He started to reach for her, cursed, and yanked his hands away. Rules were rules. Even if they were infuriating.

She stopped at the foot of the bed and turned to him, her hand still gripping his waistband. The tips of her fingers brushed the head of his erection as she shifted her hold, and his body responded instantly, spiking his heart rate, his blood pressure, his breathing… Shit, he was going to stroke out the first time she
really
touched him.

“Take your clothes off,” she demanded.

“You aren’t going to take them off for me?”

She graced him with a flirty smile that was so feminine and sexy that he didn’t wait for her answer. He wished his clothes away, and
poof
, they were gone.

Instantly, her teasing playfulness shifted into something hotter. More intense. If he’d known that getting naked was all it took, he’d have pulled a Magic Mike the first time he met her.

Her eyes took him in, his muscles flexing where her gaze landed. By the time she reached his rock-hard cock, his entire body was just as hard, primed for whatever she wanted.

“What do you think a False Angel would do now?” she asked.

He had no idea what a False Angel would do, but he knew what he’d suggest. “She’d lick my balls.”

She cocked a blond eyebrow. “Really.” She might be playing it cool, but the delicate aroma of her arousal rose up, heightening his own.

“Really.”

He didn’t think she’d do it, so he let out a strangled moan when she dropped to her knees and pressed those soft, silky lips against his sac. Holy hell, she was doing it, she was licking and sucking, nibbling and —

“Damn,” he breathed as she sucked a testicle into her mouth and hummed around it. He caught himself before he palmed her head and guided her mouth to catch the release that would be coming at any second.

But before he hit mission critical status, she was up on her feet, her teasing smile making it clear that she knew exactly how close he’d been.

And how much agony he was now in.

False Angels were evil.

“On the bed,” she commanded, and as much as he detested being told what to do, he hit that mattress in record time, lying on his back while he watched her strip.

She didn’t tease him out on this. With the same crisp efficiency he’d seen her use when he’d been tending to his wounds, she shed her clothes, leaving them in a neat pile at the foot of the bed. Then she stood there, looking both tentative and eager, though how she managed that, he had no idea.

Nor did he care. Not when she was standing at his feet, her elegant, supple body a work of goddamned art. Her breasts were full and heavy, the dusky nipples peaked with arousal. Her slim waist was made for a male to circle his hands around as he lifted her up and down on his cock.

And between her legs, she was smooth, her plump nether lips parted slightly, just enough to show a hint of glistening pink flesh.

Holy hell, his dick hurt.

“I thought False Angels were proud of their… special ornamentation.”

“As we’ve established, I’m not your normal False Angel.” She climbed onto the bed, the mattress sinking under her weight. “I wax.”

He groaned. “I like.”

She crawled up his body, her palms sliding up his shins to his thighs, her eyes bright with hunger. “Do you want to touch me?” Her husky voice vibrated all the way to the balls she’d just sucked so skillfully.

“Fuck, yes.”

Her grin was downright sinister. “Too bad.”

Lowering her head, she brushed her lips over the head of his cock. The thing jerked, slapping her across the mouth. As punishment, she nipped him on the sensitive seam just under the crown.

His bark of pain and pleasure made the chains on the wall rattle.

“Well, well,” she murmured. “Someone likes that.”

“Someone has never had that done to him before.” In five thousand years, no female had ever done that. And he’d had some rough-as-fuck partners. “Do it again.”

“I have a better idea.”

Better than that? No way —

Oh, fuck, yes. Straddling him, she scooted forward, that sweet cleft coming closer and closer to his face. His mouth began to water and his fangs began to pulse, and even his dick was leaking.

He’d never been so desperate to get intimate with a female in that way. It was as if he’d starve if she didn’t lower herself against his lips in the next ten seconds.

As she gripped the headboard and positioned herself above him, he fisted his hands at his sides, praying for control. The rules… he couldn’t break the rules. But damn, his fingers itched to touch her. To spread her. To penetrate her.

“False Angels are supposed to taste like apples.” Licking his lips, he lifted his head to meet her as she tilted her hips, putting her sex in contact with his mouth. She moaned as he slipped his tongue between her plump folds. Her slick honey flooded his mouth with the crisp tang of red apples, milder than he’d expected, mixed with her own feminine spice he’d take over fruit any day.

Pain shot up his wrists, and he realized he was clenching his fists so hard his nails were digging into his palms. Willing his hands to relax, he pierced her with his tongue.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Like that.”

Oh, so she liked when he pushed his tongue deep inside her? Too bad. She was torturing him, so he’d do the same.

He’d always been about the what-goes-around-comes-around.

Shifting his head for a better angle, he dragged the flat of his tongue through her valley, flicking the tip over her clit at the end of the upstroke. She cursed darkly, her body quivering as he did it again. And again. On the fourth pass, he lingered on her swollen knot of nerves, circling it as her hips rolled to match his rhythm.

Her orgasm was close, so close that the air became charged with her need. His cock and balls throbbed, and he hoped like hell the no-touching gag order didn’t apply to him, because he palmed himself and squeezed, holding back what was no doubt going to be a climax for the record books.

“I’m going to come… Rev… oh, Rev…
yes
.” She cried out, going taut as shudder after shudder racked her body.

Now would be the time when he should flip the sitch, throw her on her back and dive into her. Or slip out from under her, shove her head into the pillow and lift her hips, and drive into her from behind, his balls slapping her wet sex with every hard thrust.

But he couldn’t touch her. He nearly howled with frustration as her gasps of pleasure ebbed. Her legs trembled as she scooted back and sank heavily onto his abdomen. Gods, she was beautiful as she looked down at him, hair wild, her face flushed and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, her eyes glazed with pleasure, her swollen lips parted as she panted.

“Let me touch you now,” he growled.

Leaning forward, her hair falling like a curtain around them, she brushed her mouth over his. “No.”

“Sweetheart, you have one hell of a cruel streak.”

She smiled and started a slow slide down his body, her mouth kissing a red-hot trail as she went. Closing his eyes, he let her body caress him, the skin on skin turning his body into a hypersensitive sex toy he wished she’d hurry up and ride.

As she inched lower, her warmth engulfed his erection as it slid between her plump folds. The sudden sensation rocked him hard, jacking his entire body off the bed as he tried to penetrate her. But she would have none of that, and even as he arched his hips upward, she eased backward, breaking contact.

“Blaspheme.” His voice was a combination of snarly and needy. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Good,” she said with a naughty wink. “Because it’s cold in here.”

“Fuck.” He threw his head back on the pillow, pressing his palms into his thighs, willing himself to stay in control. To not circle that waist with his hands, hold her steady, and impale her with his painfully hard cock.

“Hmm.” Rolling her bottom lip between her teeth, she teased him by tracing the veins in his shaft with her finger. “Was that an invitation?”

“Yes,” he ground out. “An invitation. An order. A motherfucking plea. Call it what you want, just fuck me.”

“Show me your fangs.”

Instant fangage. He’d show her his freaking liver if she’d just make him come. Reaching out, she touched the tip of a canine.

“Vampire fangs are erogenous zones,” she purred. “They can even come if you stroke their fangs long enough.”

“So?” The idea of her fang-jerking some bloodsucker made him want to slaughter the next vampire he saw. Another finger joined the first, and Revenant found himself getting his first FJ.

“So… is it the same with fallen angels?”

As if his erection was the one getting stroked, he felt the orgasm building in his balls.

“Apparently,” he gasped, gripping his cock again and squeezing until the pain overrode the pleasure. Holy shit, when he finally came, he was going to make a fire hose look like a squirt gun.

“Interesting.”

“Interesting?” he croaked. “You know what would be interesting? If you’d let me touch you.”

“And why’s that?”

His control was slipping. He felt it in the way his heart was beating against his rib cage and his hands were clenched to the point of bleeding. He heard it in the guttural tone of his voice. Tasted it in the blood from his bitten tongue. Smelled it in the arousal that mingled with hers.

“Because I would have you up against that wall, my hands pinning yours so you’d know how this feels, and I would rail you so hard you’d feel me for a month. And after we both came, I’d have you on the floor, pulling a sixty-nine that wouldn’t end until I tasted a dozen of your orgasms. Before you could even
think
about recovering, I’d fuck you in every way a male can fuck a female. And I wouldn’t stop. Not until you begged.” He slammed his fists into the mattress. “Damn it, Blaspheme, I need to be inside you.” He sucked in a harsh breath. “Let me… inside you.”

Her eyes flared, and for the first time, he understood how False Angels truly lured males. Not with seduction, but with innocence. She was wide-eyed but breathing hard, quivering delicately but coating his shaft in her arousal. Every male instinct inside him screamed to take her, and to do it hard and fast, and then again, slowly, thoroughly. He wanted to learn every inch of her body and how each inch responded to him. He wanted to teach her what made him crazy, and then he wanted to wipe every other male from her memory.

And what the hell was he thinking? This was the False Angel magic at work, because it sure as fuck wasn’t his own brain throwing out all that crazy shit. He’d never wanted to claim a female for himself. Sure, he’d had casual lovers, more than he could count. But the moment he started looking forward to seeing a lover was the moment he checked out of the relationship.

Hell, if he’d been in this position with Blaspheme just a month ago, he doubted he’d be so infatuated. No, he didn’t doubt. He knew. Her ethics and goodness would have repelled him like DEET repelled mosquitoes. But with his returned memories had come new emotions, regrets, and pain, and somehow Blaspheme was tapping into that, making him want more than just sex… when it was clear she
only
wanted sex.

Blaspheme’s breath heaved in and out, her breasts rising and falling as if beckoning his touch. He reached for her —

No!
 

His entire body shook with the force it took to stop his hands. Holy hell, his control had slipped to nothing. She’d set down a rule, and he had been about to break it. He trembled harder, but then warm, soft hands gripped his cock and stroked up and down, working together to massage him into compliance.

“There you go,” she was saying in a soothing voice. “Fastest way to ease out an adrenaline overload is sex.”

Adrenaline overload? Maybe the False Angel ability jacked into the adrenal glands and rendered their partners unable to follow orders. It was as good an explanation as any, and he was happy to lay the blame for his slipup on her.

Feeling better now, he arched into her hands and fucked her fists as they pumped him.

“Hurry,” he growled. “I need to be inside you.”

“For once I agree with you.”

Shifting, she stood his cock up and positioned herself over the tip. Then she paused, and he ground his teeth at the agonizing delay.