It hit her again, right in the heart - how could this amazing, powerful being be hers? And yet he was. Perhaps he wasn't hers, would never be hers, in the way a mortal man might have been, but then, she'd never really fit well with those mortal men. They'd found her hunter strength off-putting, had called her unfeminine to her face.You're amazing , she thought up to her archangel.
He heard her, because his next dive was steep, the climb up even steeper.
Show-off.
Another steep dive, so hard and fast that her breath caught. She reached out as if to catch him as he plummeted, her heart racing a hundred miles an hour. He pulled up with less than a meter to spare between him and the unyielding earth, the wind of his ascent hitting her as he lifted back up.
She knew before she tasted it that he'd showered her with more of the dust. Every exposed part of her body tingled . . . including the entire span of her wings, which she'd spread out in preparation for flight, though she was far too inexperienced to execute a vertical takeoff like Raphael.I hope all this dust isn't just a tease, because that might put me in a killing frame of mind. She could already feel the erotic impact, the pulse between her thighs lush with need.
The scent of the sea swept over her as he answered.Your muscles will feel much better after a bath and a massage.
It was all her mind needed to mount a sensual assault filled with images of the last time they'd been in a bath together. His fingers driving into her, his gorgeous body bare for her perusal, his arousal heavy and demanding. She drew in a trembling breath as her br**sts pushed against the damp fabric of his shirt, the tips aching at even that fleeting contact. Lifting her hand, she dropped it before she could touch herself. Everything felt too sensitive, too needy.I think it's time to go home. She imbued her mental words with the raw sexual craving that had her skin so tight, so exquisitely tender.
Raphael's response was to land behind her, his arms coming around her in a steely hold as he swiveled her to face him. Starving for the taste of him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, snapped her wings tight to her back and held on for the ride.
They rose through lingering traces of angel dust, each fine mote kicking her further into a kind of heat she wasn't sure she could survive. Groaning, she pressed her mouth to the uncompromising angle of his jaw, licking at his skin, sucking and tasting as he flew them home. Against her belly, he was hard, deliciously tempting. She wanted to close her hand around that heavy heat, but had to satisfy herself with biting kisses along his jaw.
He didn't stop her, but his body grew increasingly more taut, his muscles electric with strain by the time they landed on the balcony outside their bedroom. She felt him slide open the doors, shut them after they entered. And then the archangel lost control. She was being turned with a hard move that left no room for argument, the shirt ripped off her like so much mist.
A fragment of thought before his hands closed over her br**sts from behind, his teeth sinking into the sensitive flesh of her neck. The scream of pleasure was torn out of her, a short, sharp burst. The hands curved so possessively around her br**sts squeezed, sending another bolt of lightning straight through to the heat between her thighs, her body slick with welcome, withneed .
Releasing the grip he had on her neck, Raphael sucked on the mark he'd made, his body a furnace that burned her from the inside out. When she twisted, trying to turn, he slipped one hand down to her abdomen, holding her in place with effortless strength, his other hand continuing to torment the sensitive flesh of her br**sts, her ni**les almost painfully aroused.
"Your mouth," she whispered, her voice husky. "I need your mouth."
Not yet.
She shivered at the implacability of that comment, the dark sexual tone of it. Raphael was not only out of control, he wasn't going to allow her any either. She could have fought, but she'd hungered for him since the instant she woke from the coma. The archangel could have her any and every way he wanted.
Raising her arms, she went to twist them behind her and around his neck, but he was already nudging her forward, onto the bed. She flowed with the movement, ending up on her knees on the sheets. Raphael pressed his hand to her lower back. Understanding the silent message, she went down onto her hands, too.
It was a starkly submissive position. However, she was feeling anything but submissive.
Using one hand to shift her hair to the side, she glanced back over her shoulder, wanting to tease him in the way a woman could tease a man in bed. "Oh God."
The archangel was glowing. A visceral terror in her gut, born of eons-old instinct.
I can feel your fear, Elena.
Blowing out a breath, she sucked in another, the action shaky. "It'll add spice to the proceedings."
A slow blink, his eyes lingering over the sweep of her back as he unfolded his wings with a careless grace that left her mouth watering. Then, eyes hooded, he stroked one hand down the curve of her bottom.Spread your thighs.
She resisted.
A glance of savage, wild blue.
Smiling just enough to let him know she was teasing, she widened her stance the merest fraction. He responded by running a single finger across the seam of her pants, stroking right over the hottest, most hungry part of her.
"Raphael!"
You wanted to play.
Still as dark, still as full of sexual intent . . . but holding an undertone of sensual amusement. Shuddering under the intimacy of the caress, she blew out a breath. "Yeah, I did." She went to flip over onto her back, but he read the tension in her muscles faster than she could move, holding her in place with a single hand on her hip.
"No fair," she murmured, dropping her head. "I'm not as strong."