Fingers threaded through his hair again as his grazed up supple creamy thighs to grip the thin lines of her cotton underwear. Kisses drew closer to the center of her womanhood until he dove to envelope the heat with his mouth.
Raking his teeth over damp fabric wrung a delicious moan from her lips. Reason flew out the window, and he ripped her panties in half with muted crackles of splitting fabric.
Impatient hands rewarded his initiative by tugging on his dark locks, bringing his mouth back to the patch of dark red curls. Breathless, he plunged his tongue into the depths of her folds, pressing his teeth over her clit. Sharp, honeyed fluid coated his taste buds, fanning his arousal, fierce and overwhelming. All his senses centered on his woman and every little thing she did.
She sucked in a breath, her legs pulling in around his head. But he wouldn’t let her shy away from her own pleasure, gripping her knees to spread her.
“Ram, please.” Begging.
Staring into her golden-blue eyes, he found only desire. He did it again, delving his tongue into the wet perfection of her sex. She moaned again, tilting her head back as he continued his ministrations.
He did everything he could think of to drive her wild until her entire body grew taut, ready for release. Denying her to the very end, he relished the tugging of his hair.
She ground herself against his face, panting, more and more until he dug his fingers into her thighs and scraped his teeth over the small bundle of nerves that created shockwaves of contracting muscles.
Lips parted, she came for him, her slick walls squeezing around his tongue. His vision swam with need, fulfilled for having taken care of his woman, but reluctant to let her go so soon.
Fighting the urge to hold her closer, he separated himself from her. Her hands dropped from his hair, taking his heart with them. But she leaned forward and captured his face, fixing her gaze on his.
“I want you inside me, Ramiel.”
Kyria slid her hands under the warmth of his shirt. “I want it off.”
But his leather jacket was in the way. She helped him take it off, and she figured it would just have to hang off his chain the entire time, but he pulled away to grab onto the hem of the sleeve.
It took him a few tries, but he eventually tore the durable material with a marvelous display of thick muscles bulging from the effort. Good lord.
Selfish fingers slipped back under his shirt, dying to see him do it again. The sweaty fabric lifted easily over his head, catching on his chain. Without hesitation, he gripped a handful of the fabric and ripped it as easily as he’d torn her panties.
Still riding the high from her first orgasm, she leaned in to kiss his scarred pec. His muscles flexed against her fingertips, and his next exhale came quicker.
She took in a sharp breath, finally witnessing the full extent of the scars and symbols that Nema must have burned into his flesh, branding him as hers.
“Ramiel.” She repeated his name like it meant something. Because he did, to her.
Her lips pressed to the center of his chest, right in the middle of the largest area of burned skin. A trail of soft kisses went up to his shoulder and skipped along his neck to his ear lobe. She took the flesh between her lips and gently sucked.
He groaned.
A roaming hand slid over his abdomen and dipped to the button of his jeans, nervously fumbling around before giving up and going back to his stomach.
Dragging his hand back up to grasp her hips, he turned his head with a rasp of his jaw against her smooth cheek and nipped the lobe of her ear between his front teeth.
She gasped. “I don’t know if I can do this the way you deserve.”
“You’re breaking my heart.” He cupped her cheek. “Nothing you could ever do would disappoint me.”
The adrenaline spike at her core anchored her as his words encouraged her. Her fingers moved awkwardly toward the front of his jeans again. He sucked in a sharp breath when the glorious sound of a zipper drew down.
Hard male abs constricted as her inexperienced fingers moved, this time not giving up until she managed to tug the jeans down and he sprang free.
Bracing his arm over her shoulder by gripping the back of the worn leather sofa, he eased her further into the cushions.
Fangs flashed at her with a tightening of his features. This should frighten me. But, no. It didn’t faze her. Smiling at his fierceness came just as natural to her as melting in his tenderness.
Playing with his cock, she familiarized herself with the throbbing length, every ridge and vein a new plane of intimacy she’d never tried.
The gentle rasp of skin on skin tantalized her senses as she explored further and cupped his balls. Warm, smooth, and firm. Air left him on a sharp exhale. Intense one second, totally vulnerable the next. You break my heart, too, Ram.
As if unable to take any more, he removed her hands from his pants and held her forearms by her head. The chain rested against her ribs, a foreign weight against her skin. Goose bumps returned as she wiggled and arched her body toward him.
“Ram, please.” She lifted a leg and hooked it around his waist.
Lips connected with his jaw in eager kisses. “Stay with me and finish.”
Relaxing his grip on her wrist, he trailed his hand down the outline of her arm to her rib cage, stopping at her hip.
A soft growl from her own throat surprised her. The fiercely feminine sound warmed her chest as it rumbled again. Regaining some composure, she braced herself as he grabbed her up and rolled onto his back. His erection nudging her inner thigh as she straddled him.
A flare of panic burned her chest for a moment. She had no idea what she was supposed to do. But as his rough hands only showed her tenderness, her muscles relaxed. She was safe with him.
She studied him, his whole body, naked and damaged as evidence of the sins committed against him.
Chiseled chest muscles stilled. She smiled, murmuring, “You’re so beautiful.”
For a second, warmth spread to her cheeks. But he took her hands and weaved their fingers together.
With her knees pressed against his rib cage, she paused. Then she squeezed her thighs around him and tested the waters, tentatively grinding against him.
Up and down. She bit down on her bottom lip, a small whimper of pleasure escaping. His hips burrowed between her thighs, pushing upward to match her movements.
Her eyes widened, and she jumped as the hard ridge of his arousal brushed against her most sensitive spot.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, and she dared to trust him. A moan trailed out of her throat as she continued moving against him.
Keeping his eyes locked on her face, he unlocked one of his hands from hers and moved his thumb to the top of her damp slit and pressed, creating more friction for her.
She cried out in ecstasy and fell forward, pressing her whole body against his. She buried her teeth into his flesh, and her muscles convulsed with a small second orgasm before she went limp.
“Oh God, I-I’m so sorry.” The words were forced out of her lungs between hard breaths. His hard cock still rubbed against her slick folds.
Tracing his fingertips up and down her spine, he grunted. “For what?”
Her eyelashes brushed his chest as his other hand found its way into her hair to massage her scalp. “We didn’t even…and I…”
Male hardness pinned her down as he slid his hands down to her hips and rolled them over again. She squeaked, instinctively gripping his biceps for leverage even as she opened her legs for him.
His entire chest shook with a deep, possessive sound. “Oh, we’re not done.”
Skin on skin, he leaned over her, brushing his heat against hers. He toyed with her breast again, nipping and sucking. One hand cupped the back of her neck as the burn started. His heat fired her up.
She gasped, bliss coloring her vision with little stars. Her legs found their way around his waist again and squeezed, more confident this time.
Rolling his hips, he fou
nd her core, wet and swollen. He eased so slowly into the center of her being, pulling at his chain. He was careful, but she still winced.
A few harsh curse words slipped past his lips as he froze. “Kyria. Are you sure about this?” Panting and sweaty, his body trembled above hers.
“No. Don’t stop. Please.” When he still didn’t budge, she wiggled her hips.
A rush of heat ran through her when the movement shifted his cock inside her tight walls, shocking her nerves. Fangs bared, he met her impatience with a groan and arched his back. Inch by inch, he sank further in, filling her.
Her hands roamed from his biceps to his shoulders, his muscles hard from the strain of holding back. She pushed her body up closer to his with each gentle plunge, testing the waters. His name became a constant whisper on her lips, asking him between breathless moans if she was doing it right.
He lowered to brace himself on his elbows on either side of her head. Dipping his face, he kissed her cheek and mumbled into her ear, “How could you think you’re anything but perfect?”
Like flint on metal, his words struck sparkling flames down her spine. Finally, he drove home. For the first time ever, she was one with someone.
Behind him, his hand pulled her leg tighter around him. She caught on and dug her heels into his backside, bringing their bodies closer. Her chest came up as she moaned his name again. Nails dug into his flesh, spurring more feverish movement.
Tangling his fingers through her long red hair, he held her in place. Every nerve in her body became a highway for the most incredible sensation.
The smell of leather and an oncoming storm engulfed her senses. Electricity rolled from each limb to their joined flesh, holding her hostage in the moment. She gasped for more, urging him to thrust faster and faster. Her moans mingled with his grunts. Then he bit out a curse.
She cried out, back tightening. His body trembled as her walls convulsed around him in orgasm. Her name peeled from his lips as he found his release right after her.
His fangs caught a glint of light coming from the kitchen, and deep primal urges surfaced through the thin veil of her unspoken cravings.
“Bite me,” she panted.
Without her having to beg or goad him further, he obeyed. The length of his fangs sunk into her flesh as the length of his manhood had. He bit into the base of her neck and latched on, drawing sweet life essence into his body through the open wound.
She belonged to him, her blood now flowing through him. And he was hers.
Mine.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Pain and pleasure ripped through his body as he came. Molten fire lanced up his arms and legs, colliding at his back. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before, burning pain that washed under a wave of pure ecstasy. He snarled, lips peeling back to bare his fangs as he yelled.
Their bodies thrust a few more times, moving together through the last streams of pleasure until it was done.
He was numb, but so alive. A new rush of energy ran through him. Ramiel propped himself up on one arm, wrapping the other around Kyria to hold her against him. He wanted to pull her into his heart, but being close like this would have to do. Her legs fell away as he slipped from her body, but he kept her pressed against him.
He couldn’t even begin to analyze what just happened between them. Blood rushed throughout his body, pounding in his ears.
Eyes closed, he touched his lips against the wound he had created and focused on her heartbeat.
“Ram?” Her voice sounded funny. Almost alarmed, not satisfied and sleepy like he expected.
He frowned but couldn’t find the energy to speak. “Hmm?”
“Ram…you have wings.”
His eyes snapped open. Was she trying to make a joke? Lighten the mood? But a shadow, familiar like an old friend, lay on the floor.
It was impossible. Another vision. A sex-induced dream. He twisted to look behind him with too much hope.
The proof arched in iridescent colors behind his shoulders. Those wings, once ripped from the flesh and bone of his back by Nema, had returned to their full glory. Kyria had restored him.
Breathless, Ramiel pulled away from her, staggering off the bed to stand naked before her as he stared down at himself. He hadn’t expected her blood to have a healing property that could restore his wings. Heal his body.
Panic set in first, followed by a pool of euphoria. If his wings were back, his angelic strength had to be returned. His first yank on the chains was tentative. They had been a part of him for over a hundred years. The next one, filled with vengeance and hate, did the trick.
The darkly enchanted metal shattered and dissolved with an echoing screech throughout the room. The floor shook. The walls groaned.
Kyria sat up on the couch covering her mouth. Her words came out muffled from behind her hand, “Oh my God.”
The woman who gave him his freedom, the freedom that tasted so bittersweet, that had been such a long time coming. Nema would destroy her.
“Ram? What’s wrong? You have wings. The most beautiful wings.” She stood with wide eyes, reaching out to touch the tip of one gently. “You broke the chains.”
It had to be her blood. Too much. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath. The air around him hummed with a suffocating power he’d been missing since Nema stole it. He couldn’t breathe. His thoughts scrambled.
Without a word, he flashed.
He was gone. One second his stunning wings brushed against her fingertips, then empty space. Air escaped her, and she was unable to find the breath to call him back.
I can’t just stand here naked, waiting for him like a sheep. She looked down at herself, numb, thighs wet.
Closing her hand into a small fist, she tried not to cry. Her bra was ruined so she pulled her shirt over her head and tied her hair up.
She fell on the sofa without looking for her jeans, having no idea where she’d even thrown them. Where did you go, Ramiel?
She eventually found them and tugged them on. Going to the small bathroom, she washed off her face and examined the marks he left on her neck.
She touched her flushed cheek. Her adrenaline spiked as she wondered what the hell happened. Exhausted, she glared at her reflection. She wanted to throw something at him, but first she had to find him and make sure he was okay. With a shake of her head, she returned to the living area.
The bowl of soup he prepared for her still sat on the coffee table.
She was an idiot.
Tired of her own self-loathing, she called Eli. No answer. What if it’s the demons again. Nema… I need to talk to someone.
When she tried to find Val, flashing to the bunker, Mary told her that the woman had gone out to run the fences, which meant she could be anywhere on the property.
Kyria was completely alone. Exactly the way she started out when her dad collapsed in the motel room. If nothing else, she had learned how strong she could be, with or without Ram.
Kyria touched the back of her neck as her mark burned without warning. That was probably some kind of bad omen. Halfway to the double doors of the bunker, she stopped and turned around, heading back upstairs.
She found David sitting in a bean bag chair in the library, alone and surrounded by comic books and snacks. Knocking on the wall, she waited to get his attention. Buddy poked his head out of the front pocket of the boy’s shirt.
The sight of the critter released a great weight off her chest, and she smiled. “Hey, David. I see you have my favorite hedgehog. Mind if I join you?”
“Oh, hey, Kyria. No, I don’t mind. Mister Bishop told me Buddy liked Wolverine, so I was just reading to him.”
“Where is everyone?” She lowered herself to sit on the ground next to him, wiggling her fingers at Buddy who waddled up and licked her pinky. The tiny grooming gesture was familiar and comforting.
He shrugged. “The little ones are getting ready for bed. The older guys are hanging out. I had a headache, so I stayed behind.” He placed a hand
on his stack of volumes. “It’s gonna take a while to read all this. I gotta learn how to be a hero like in the books. For when the bad guys come, you know? I’m not strong enough yet, like Eli or Miss Val. But Bishop says I will be.”
She sighed at David, suddenly missing Eli. She hoped he was okay, wherever he was. “You’re only ten. You don’t need to worry about being a hero.”
“It’s the world we live in. That’s what Eli says.”
“And what do you say?”
Watery blue eyes cast downward with his sudden admission. “I just want my mom.”
Her heart broke with his quiet response.
“I know you didn’t get to meet your mom, either, and Miss Val says my mom was a hero just like yours.” He looked at her like she might throw him a lifeline with her understanding. “She says my dad was an angel, too, but I think she’s lying. I think he’s a demon.” He crumpled an empty chip bag in his little fist. “I also think he killed my mom, but Miss Val won’t talk about it.”
She reached across to place her free hand over his as her heart broke into even smaller pieces. “My dad used to say that my mom is always watching over me. No matter where she is. That’s what moms do. I’m sure that’s what yours is doing, too.”
David nodded, looking away before sparing a glance at the critter in his pocket. He set his comic book aside and scooped him out to hand to her. “He’s yours, right?”
“Yeah, I got him after we moved here. I wasn’t really allowed to have pets, but Val convinced my dad a hedgehog was okay.” Smiling more brightly, Kyria took the hedgehog in her hands and brought him closer. She touched her nose to his, and the rest of her rough anxieties melted away. “But I think I should see if any of you guys wanted to take care of him for a while. I’m going to be very busy fighting demons, I think, and battle is no place for small animals. Even one as tough as Buddy.”
“I bet he’s an orphan, too. Just like me.” David went quiet, then gently took the hedgehog back from her to place on his chest. He finally smiled, though, speaking again, “He’s so cool.” Buddy snorted, and David relaxed. She was glad to see the critter could comfort others the way he comforted her.
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