Only One I Want (UnHallowed Series Book 2)

by Tmonique Stephens

  Braile opened his white, red-tipped wings and took to the skies, leaving her watching long after he’d gone.

  Her most hated memory came at her weakest moments and always left her bereft. Her mouth was beyond dry and her stomach had a hole the size of the Grand Canyon. A bottle of water was on the coffee table, but her attention was on the UnHallowed holding it. “What time is it?” She shifted into a seated position across from him.

  “Almost noon,” he murmured.

  She glanced at the closed curtain and remembered the shutters were in place. No light seeped into the room.

  She guzzled the water and then noticed the sandwich on a plate. Her stomach rumbled but there were more important things than food. “We need to talk.”

  “Yes. I searched for Michael to confess my crime. He didn’t answer. I must inform him of what has happened. He will likely replace me. I think Daghony would be best. He is the most reasonable out of the UnHallowed.”

  That wasn’t what she wanted. “He’s not going to replace you.”

  “I want him to.”

  That caused her to perch on the edge of the sofa in front of him. “This wasn’t your faul—”

  “I killed three humans, an act forbidden by all of Heaven.”

  “You didn’t know—”

  “I should have known. I’ve been hunting Darklings for millennia—”

  “Bane, there was no way you could have known. That’s what I’m trying to explain.”

  His hands fisted and he stared at some distant point over her shoulder. “I killed humans and for that I must be punished.”

  “Damn it!” She grabbed his hands. “You didn’t know, Bane. I did know and I should have told you.”

  His gaze drilled into Amaya, red bleeding from the pupil to the aquamarine irises. “What?”

  “I saw this happen to a man two days ago. A Darkling inhabited him. Then he went home, had breakfast, and screwed his girlfriend. He was completely normal. I thought I was crazy, but I did see it,” she said in a rush.

  The corner of his lip curled in a silent snarl. “You had this information and kept it to yourself?” His words were monotone and precise.

  A warning went off in her head. “Yes, I—”

  He stood and paced in front of the cold fireplace. “And you kept it to yourself.” He stopped pacing and braced against the mantle, his back to her. “Why?”

  “I didn’t do it on purpose, Bane. I-I...” She sighed. “The truth is…I didn’t trust you. I’ve been waiting for Michael to return—”

  The mantle crumbled beneath his hands.

  She stood and backed away. “Bane—”

  “I am an UnHallowed trying to regain my place in the Celestial Army so I don’t end up stuck on this filthy planet for the rest of my immortality, and you have condemned me to an eternity of Hell on earth,” he growled.

  “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I should’ve trusted you. I’m so sorry I didn’t.” She went to him, laid her hands on his broad back. “I’ll explain to Michael that it was my fault. He can’t keep you out of Heaven because of something that was my fault!”

  He turned slowly and looked down at her. Red encompassed his pupils. She reached to cup his face in her hands, but he caught both of her hands in one of his. With his other hand, he took her chin. “I swung the blade that killed them. I ended all they could have been. Not you. If you had, you could’ve begged for forgiveness and it would have been granted. I. Am. UnHallowed. I used my allotment of forgiveness when I was paroled from Hell. There will be no more coming my way.” He released her and moved aside.

  Amaya blocked him and waited for him to look at her. When he didn’t, she took his face in her hands, stroked her fingers along his jaw. He grabbed her wrists. Before he pushed her away, she said, “I forgive you. Please, forgive me. Bane. Forgive me.”

  Finally, his gaze met hers. His eyes were clear, devoid of any red. Sadness instead of anger radiated from him. This wasn’t about what he failed to gain. This was about the lives he’d ended. He mourned as she mourned, with regret so bitter she’d never stop tasting it.

  Amaya stepped into the curve of his body and wrapped her arms around his neck. She held him while he stood there with his hands at his sides. A block of ice held more warmth and she didn’t care. She held on and willed her heat to thaw him.

  Eventually, his arms crept up her body and wrapped around her waist, and his head dropped into the curve of her neck. “I’m so sorry, Bane.” She caressed the back of his neck and slid her fingers into his hair. His cool lips pressed into her skin and he seemed to breathe her in. A moan slid out of her mouth and her head dropped back, giving him complete access. His arms tightened, then one hand went to the back of her head, the other settled low on her hip and squeezed.

  He kissed her collarbone, then dragged his tongue up the column of her throat to her jaw. He pulled the clip out of her messy bun, allowing her hair to unravel, then buried his face in the strands and groaned. “You always smell like sunshine.”

  Her nipples pebbled and her core melted at his husky words. She angled her head and met his lips. He conquered her mouth with a thrust of his tongue that sent her thoughts scattering. Lust gripped her hard and she grabbed his head and returned his kiss with equal dominance. They fought a battle of tongue and teeth, neither winning, neither losing. His hand crept from her hip to stroke the underside of her breast. Through the thin material of her tee, he teased her by cupping and kneading her breast when she craved skin on skin.

  He broke their kiss and set her away from him.

  Amaya wouldn’t be denied, not this time. She gripped the neck of his shirt and ripped it, not in half like she wanted to. It hung off his shoulders in tatters, exposing the defined muscles of his shoulders and pecs.

  Both panting, they stared at each other. Red-rimmed Bane’s blue-green eyes. Destroyed shirt, heaving chest. A bulge tented his black jeans. All of it was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen.

  Amaya finished the job and ripped the rest of his shirt away. Corded muscles, covered by pale, smooth skin. Ripped abs, heavily padded pecs with tight nipples, and a faint passion trail vanishing beneath the waist of his pants. In a blink, she took it all in and reached out for him. He captured her wrist in a gentle embrace. Amaya wouldn’t be stopped. With her free hand, she gripped the back of his neck and snatched Bane to her. She kissed him again, slowly, sweetly, and ran her free hand down his abs.

  To her utter delight, he moaned, a low throaty sound that made her walls clench. Then she was in his arms again, kissing him, and touching everywhere her hands could reach. It wasn’t enough. She reached behind and tugged at her shirt. He got the idea and helped her out by ripping it down the front.

  She stumbled back. Modesty had her covering her bare breasts. Then she caught the lust transforming his features and dropped her hands. Feeling brave, she went further and shoved her sweatpants and panties down her legs and kicked them away. Never more vulnerable, she stood there and waited for him to say something, do something. Anything.

  His gaze swept from her head to her feet. “You are beyond beautiful.” He came to her with a predatory gait. She wasn’t afraid because she was a predator too, and met him midway. He swept her off her feet and carried her to the sofa.

  He tossed her onto the cushions. One bounce and she was pinned by his weight. Lost in sensation, she gave herself up to the sublime feel of him. He slid down her body to pull her nipple into his hot mouth. He sucked, nipped, worshipped one, wringing breathless cries from her, before moving on to the other. A rough palm parted her thighs, rubbed back and forth, caressing her swollen lips, but he didn’t dip into her wet core where she needed him most.

  He hovered over her, his lips and tongue on her flesh, his hand providing friction, just not the right kind. She writhed on the cushions of the sofa, so desperate.

  A long tug on her nipple, then he dragged his tongue down the center of her body, swirled it around her nav
el and continued to the sliver of hair shielding her sex. “Wider,” he rasped.

  She obeyed and braced for that first lick, not certain her sanity would be intact after the contact. He parted her folds and licked from her core to her clit. She stifled her half moan, half scream in the pillows of the sofa.

  “No cheating. I want to hear you scream,” he said between flicks of his tongue.

  “Then don’t stop,” she demanded, and let out a rough cry when his tongue snaked over her clitoris and sucked. “More!”

  Bane teased her entrance with a finger, entering a fraction and withdrawing, rimming her while sucking on her clit until she slapped his shoulder and dug her fingers into his flesh. He chuckled, a devilish sound that thrilled her to no end and sent a vibration through her core.

  “Tight.” He delved inside her and brought his thumb around to play at the top of her sex.

  Amaya’s hips tipped and rocked, riding his finger and his mouth. She cupped her breasts and played with her hard nipples. He rose over her to take one into his mouth and she grabbed his chin.

  “I need you naked, now,” she grunted as her inner muscles clenched his finger and a mini-orgasm pulsed through her.

  Bane opened his mouth and the last thing she wanted to hear was something logical, reasonable as to why they couldn’t do this. She reached between them and gripped his erection. His eyes rolled back in his head and he shifted, giving her access to shove her hand into his jeans. Still, she couldn’t get the grip she needed to satisfy her curiosity. She snapped the tab and lowered the zipper. He sprang free.

  Amaya gasped at the hard flesh filling her palm. She closed her hand around him and stroked, up and down, set a rhythm that had his hips jerking and him grunting.

  “Birth control?” he groaned.

  “I’m on the pill. Got any diseases?”

  “UnHallowed can’t catch or give anything.”

  “Good to know.”

  Two more strokes and, to both their shock, he exploded, coating her abdomen with semen.

  Disappointment stabbed her until she realized he was still hard enough to pound nails.

  “It’s been a while.” Bane grabbed her ass and dragged her to him. He placed her legs on his shoulders and positioned himself at her entrance. His blunt head rubbed against her, primed her body for his invasion.

  “How long is awhile?” she said breathless, the passion taking over again.

  “A century or two.”

  She inhaled a panicked breath and stiffened. “You haven’t had sex in a century? Or two?”

  He leaned over her, opening her body up to him, and at the same time pinning her to the sofa. She was completely vulnerable to anything he wanted to do to her.

  “Why?” she groaned as the broad head breached her. She stretched around him, her passage welcoming his unyielding length inside her heat. She wanted to move, to rock, to feel him driving into her body. This slow pace was killing her.

  “No one worth fucking.”

  He thrust forward and her walls contracted. A flash of pain had her pushing back into the sofa. She’d never been this full. Then he rolled his hips and pleasure flooded her senses. She moaned, “Now. Right now. Fuck me.”

  Gnashing his teeth, an animalistic groan escaped him. “I’ve waited centuries for this. Not gonna rush.” He flexed his hips and pumped into her body once, went balls deep, and ground against her clit.

  She bucked. “Bane! Again.”

  He grabbed her hips. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Instead you kill me by not moving.” She dug her fingernails into his shoulders until he hissed and plunged into her, over and over. Bliss poured into her system, but she wanted more. She grabbed his face and gave him a raw, honest kiss. Everything she felt, the lust, the loneliness, the need to be a part of something, someone who wouldn’t die on her, or worse, leave, all of it, Amaya poured it into their connection.

  He released her hips and let her legs slide off his shoulders. She locked them around his waist and thrust up to meet every down stroke. He palmed her breasts, captured her nipples between his fingers. Just the right amount of friction had her panting, straining. He pulled out, pushed her legs apart, and sunk between her thighs. His first lick had them both moaning. His tongue was rough yet soft, insistent yet gentle, teasing her with the promise of an orgasm, yet demanding she give him one.

  Another flick of his tongue on her clit and—

  He shifted and was buried deep inside her again. Merciless, he pounded into her. “Yes,” she hissed and met each of his down strokes. The triple X sounds their bodies created filled the room, filled her, fueled her. She reached for him and licked down the column of his throat to his nipple and bit him.

  “Amaya.” His head dropped forward, his eyes full red. She should be afraid. Terror should be coursing through her veins, not unquenchable lust. Bent over, he caged her with his body, his thrusts powerful, nothing held back, with a frantic edge that infected her.

  She raked her fingernails across his back, front, sides, fucked him like he fucked her. He growled something in a language she didn’t understand, yet answered anyway with, “Don’t stop!”

  He bore down over her, locked his lips to hers as he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her onto his lap.

  She bounced on his cock, riding him with an abandon she’d never experienced with anyone else. He ripped his lips from hers and went to her breasts. She arched her back to give him access. Each pull of his mouth around her nipple, each thrust of his cock pushed her to the brink. “I wanna come. Make me come!”

  He clutched her hips in a bruising grip and didn’t stop driving into her until she cried out and convulsed around his shaft. It had never been this good, not with anyone. He kept going, driving into her, tossing her into another blinding orgasm. She throbbed around his cock as bliss fried her nervous system.

  He shouted something incoherent, buried himself within her and came with deep shudders rolling through his body.

  Quivering, she collapsed on his chest. He wasn’t in much better condition, but he rebounded quickly. He swung her into his arms and carried her upstairs. He stopped a foot away from her bedroom door.

  She roused enough to look over her shoulder at the light spilling over the threshold. “Give me a sec and I’ll close the blinds.” She kissed him slowly, sucked on his bottom lip until he moaned, then slid down his body.

  On wobbly legs, she entered her bedroom and closed the blinds and the curtains. She couldn’t eliminate all the sunlight. Now, the room was dim and shadows lurked in the corners. A towel around the tiny bathroom window left a rim of sunlight around the edges of the window. Enough illumination for her to see her wrecked hair, swollen lips, and still engorged nipples.

  And the Cheshire grin splitting her face. Good didn’t come close to describing how she felt. It was as if a switch had been flicked on her sexual engine, taking it from idling at a stop sign to racing around the Daytona speedway. She hoped Bane had enough stamina because this race had just begun.

  “Okay, it’s safe to enter.” She strolled back to the hallway…and found it empty.

  “Bane?”

  20

  What catastrophe have I wrought?

  Dressed in full armor, the sword of Metatron clutched in his hand, Michael surveyed the bodies strewn about like discarded trash across the lowlands of Kilimanjaro. Some were humans, most were angels who had put down their weapons and allowed themselves to be slaughtered. Such was their penance for their heinous act.

  Michael stepped from his elevated perch and walked amongst the carnage, leaving the rest of the Celestial Army hovering overhead. A steady rain fell, created from the tears of his warriors over their fallen comrades. Michael didn’t have the luxury of joining them. His mourning would come later, in private. Finding out what happened, the hows, the whys, the whens, took precedence over his personal anguish.

  A pair of iridescent viridian wings caught his attention. Michael’s steps faltered and he v
eered in that direction until he stood beside the body of Titus. He had achieved his archangel status only a century ago. Too young to have fallen. Michael yanked away, but there was no place his gaze could escape the sight of broken, muddy wings, and twisted bodies, and spilled grace. No place to escape the destruction, the disaster which had befallen the Celestial Army.

  “Explain,” he commanded Gabriél, who had landed with a ground shaking thud.

  “I was a part of the second wave. We came from the opposite side of the field.” He pointed across the flat plains. “The plan was to cut off the Darklings’ retreat and slay them all in a pincher move.”

  Michael spun on his friend and grabbed the collar of Gabriél’s armor. Equal in height, Michael stared into similar golden eyes. “Dead humans are what I see, not Darkling ash!” he bellowed and the rain became a monsoon. The ground rumbled beneath his feet, his horror so great. He released Gabriél and turned away. With great effort, Michael calmed. Clarity is what he needed. The anger and rage would come later, along with swift justice.

  “What you see, Michael, may be human now. That was not the case during the battle. They were Darklings.”

  Michael nailed Gabriél with a glare. Before he could say a word, Gabriél dropped to his haunches next to the body of a man. Carefully, he moved him on his back. Michael knelt in the muddy field on the opposite side.

  Gabriél pointed to the mountain behind his left shoulder. “The first wave of our army numbered five hundred angels. They came in from the peak and swooped down over the mass of Darklings. My team came from the opposite direction, less than a minute later. I estimate the enemy to be about ten thousand. I brought an additional two hundred archangels, elite guard. Ten thousand Darklings against seven hundred angels, the Darklings should have been an easy slaughter.” Gabriél’s voice turned hard with restrained fury. “The battle was fierce, ash filled the air as I flew into position. We were winning, Michael. Then the first scream hit me. And then another, before I had a chance to react. I knew it couldn’t be the Darklings since they die silently. It had to be angels who had fallen beneath the Darklings claws. Two deaths I could accept. Screams filled the air. Lamentation of angels. For a moment, I couldn’t understand what was happening—” His voice faltered.