Redemption: A Realm of Flame and Shadow Novel

by Christina Phillips

  She tugged on the restraints, but they didn’t unravel. She hadn’t expected them to. It was beyond thrilling to be so utterly at his mercy. Without any control over what happened next.

  “And leaves you speechless,” he growled, which was the hottest damn thing she’d ever heard.

  She clenched her fists and arched her back in a futile effort to feel his gorgeous body crush hers. He grinned, clearly loving the way she couldn’t stop writhing beneath him, and she let out a frustrated groan. “I’m so going to pay you back for this.”

  “Promises,” he mocked before brushing an electrifying kiss across her erect nipple. A mortifying squeak escaped her throat, but he didn’t seem to notice. His full attention was focused on worshipping her breasts. Licking and sucking, and spirals of agonizing pleasure ignited her sensitized clit.

  “Killing me,” she gasped as she clung onto the fishnets as if they were an anchor to sanity.

  Gabe raised his head, his jaw still grazing her tender flesh. “Don’t die yet. I haven’t finished.”

  She choked on another laugh. Who knew archangels had such a crazy sense of humor? “I’m not promising anything.”

  His fingers stroked and caressed, and his mouth and tongue were instruments of sweet torture as he inched farther down her body. It was an effort, but she managed to raise her head so she could watch his leisurely progress. Why was he taking so long? She gave a frantic wiggle, and he glanced up, masculine satisfaction radiating from him like an immortal halo.

  “I’m serious,” she panted. His archangelic radiance wouldn’t distract her, and she didn’t even care that he knew how desperate she was.

  “Hold that thought,” he responded before flourishing his dagger again. “I like it when you beg me.”

  “I’m—I’m not begging you,” she spluttered, but they both knew she was.

  His magnificent weapon sliced through the skirt before he tossed the ruined garment across the floor. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

  She didn’t doubt that. She just didn’t want to wait.

  With a final glint of his blade, the G-string slithered from her body. The dagger vanished, and he teased her damp heat with his finger. The breath caught in her throat and she couldn’t tear her gaze from his face.

  It was only sex. But despite his taunt of yesterday, the Archangel Gabriel found her irresistible.

  The knowledge was as potent as the fire from his touch. She collapsed back onto the bed and the world tipped out of focus as his tongue swirled over her aroused clit.

  It was forever and no time at all before he raised his head, his ragged breath sending shivers of pleasure across her damp flesh. His fingers played with her hips and waist, and delirium hovered on a hazy horizon.

  Words fluttered in her mind, somehow making a connection to her tongue. “I am going to die if you don’t hurry up.”

  “I don’t do hurry up.” And they both knew that was a lie. Did he really want her to beg?

  “Please.” It came out as an undignified sob as she writhed helplessly.

  He rose over her, his face so close to hers she could taste her scent on his warm breath. “Is that the best you can do?”

  She redoubled her efforts to escape her bonds, but that wasn’t saying much. Every molecule screamed for release, and she wasn’t talking about her restraints.

  “Yes,” she gasped, infuriated and aroused that he insisted on a reply when she could barely even think.

  “You need to work on that.” As he taunted her, he roughly kneed her thighs apart and the savage gleam in his eyes told her he was as close to the edge as she.

  Primal power surged through her and she wrapped her legs around him, his rigid cock pressing against her wet sex. When did he take off his briefs? Not that it mattered. He was an archangel. He could do almost anything.

  She squirmed, frantic with need, but still he didn’t take her. His hands smashed down on either side of her head, bracing his weight. His tangled hair framed his face, his tautly muscled shoulders filled her world, and the head of his erection nudged her swollen clit.

  “Archangel.” Barely aware she’d spoken aloud, the evocative image spilled through her mind. “Gabriel.” She dragged out each syllable, savoring the taste of his name on her tongue.

  He cursed in his own language, which sent another frisson of desire sizzling through her blood, and slid the head of his cock over her wet slit. The exquisite pressure teased and probed, and another dry sob of frustration escaped her parched throat.

  “You want something, Aurora?” He panted into her face, looking more like a hedonistic demon of pleasure than an archangel.

  “Yes.” Her fingers clawed uselessly, but he wouldn’t come close enough so she could kiss him. “Yes.”

  “Tell me.” His thick erection continued to torment her, and she quivered with agonizing anticipation. “Do you want my cock inside you? Is that what you want?”

  No way was she saying that. She dug her heels into his butt, her muscles straining with effort, but he was as hard as iron and as immovable as a mountain.

  “Just do it.” Had she screamed?

  “Say it.” His mouth all but touched hers, their erratic breaths mingling as one. “Say the words.”

  His growled command was intoxicating, incinerating her reservations to ash. “I want your cock inside me.”

  His eyes glittered with lust, and raw power sizzled through her veins. A surreal conviction drifted through her mind. She was the one in bonds, but it wasn’t Gabe who held ultimate power in this game.

  “And?” His harsh word cut through her daze, and she blinked up at him, uncomprehending. “What else do you want me to do? Tell me.”

  She licked her dry lips. He watched the movement like a hawk.

  “I want you to …” The word lodged in her throat. The crazy inhibition had no place in a world inhabited by archangels and aliens and cold-hearted goddesses. “Fuck me. Hard and fast. And I want it now.”

  He rammed into her, so hard and fast, her breath stalled in her lungs. His possession was absolute, enslaving her body and shattering her mind. All she could do was ride the wave with him, or risk drowning in the sensual torrent.

  “You’re a great fuck, Aurora.” His words scorched through her, filthy and erotic. “You’re so tight and hot. It’s fucking insane.”

  She’d forgotten how to speak, how to think. Nothing else mattered but this man, this archangel, who looked at her with such ferocious intensity and who fucked her as if the world was about to end.

  And then it did end, in a cascade of sparkling rainbows that filled her universe and transported her body. Unthinking, unaware, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and clung on tight as he came, hot and brutal, and in that moment, nirvana shimmered in her soul.

  Chapter 15

  Gabe

  Eyes closed, his harsh breath searing his chest, Gabe’s muscles slowly relaxed. Aurora was soft and warm beneath him, her arms still clasped around his shoulders.

  Her heart hammered against his chest, her uneven gasps of breath teased his throat, and every few seconds delicate tremors consumed her. Satisfaction unfurled deep inside a buried chasm of his ruined soul, and he savored the scent of woman, of sex, and the unique flavor that was Aurora.

  It had been an age since he’d taken a woman. But he hadn’t forgotten the inevitable aftermath. The overpowering need to untangle limbs and sever contact. To find his own space, without having to deal with any messy fallout from a temporarily enraptured mortal.

  No such sense of self-preservation washed through him now. And his cock, still buried inside her tight cleft, stirred.

  Again.

  He should have known once—twice—would never be enough to sate the madness in his blood when it came to Aurora. She was too fascinating, too aggravating, to be cleansed from his system so easily.

  She’s the only one I’ve wanted in countless years.

  All true. But it still didn’t explain why he continued to lie her
e, content to wind her hair around his finger and enjoy how she clung to him as her erratic breathing gradually calmed.

  “You untied me.” She sounded drowsy, sated, and slightly surprised.

  That made two of them. He’d had no intention of releasing her until they were finished, but instinct had taken over.

  He’d wanted to feel her arms around him. Why not? It didn’t mean anything deeper beyond the physical contact.

  Even if he’d avoided that kind of intimate, physical contact in his distant past when he’d fucked around.

  “Are you complaining?” He brushed his lips against her temple.

  Her faint hum of amusement washed through him like a soothing balm. It made no sense, but he wasn’t about to fight it. He’d take any elusive façade of peace and embrace it while he could.

  If he was sure of anything, it was this. His fascination with her wouldn’t last long.

  “No.” She drifted her fingers across his shoulders, perilously close to his scars. Unlike previous lovers, she wouldn’t pretend they didn’t exist. She had no clue that mortals simply did not question an archangel. And even if she did, he doubted it would make any difference to her.

  He didn’t want to deflect her questions yet again and shatter the mood. But he didn’t have to, as her fingers slid to his nape and her gentle massage was unexpected, soothing … extraordinary.

  How easy it would be to roll onto his side, tug her close, and fall into blissful oblivion. But a dark, alien, serpent twisted deep in his gut, and he lifted his head so he could see her face.

  Her eyes were half-closed, her cheeks flushed, and a small smile tilted her lips. She looked satisfied and happy. Why shouldn’t she? This had been his plan from the moment he’d seen the bottomless insanity glitter in her eyes when she’d discovered the truth of the Guardians.

  Yeah, he was all heart when it came to Aurora. He’d wanted to banish the terror that threatened to eat her alive, but the sex had been all about mutual lust. Nothing wrong with that.

  Yet the unease grew, like a malignant tumor, extinguishing the lingering tendrils of peace in his soul.

  She had no option but to stay on his island for the rest of her life. Would it make her incarceration more palatable if she fell for him? If she loved him, she wouldn’t miss her former life. Millennia ago, he’d witnessed the blinding devotion a mortal could have for an archangel, at the expense of everything and everyone else.

  Not that he’d ever craved that for himself. It was a one-sided obsession and he had no use for that. Whenever a mortal had professed undying devotion, he’d got out of there fast and never saw them again.

  It was easier that way. Kinder, even.

  But Aurora. He didn’t want her to fall. Didn’t want to witness her inevitable slide into bitterness when she finally accepted that he’d never return her feelings.

  He just wanted this strange encounter to continue, without complicated emotions getting in the way and destroying what they’d found.

  Was that too much to ask? If he laid down the ground rules now, before she lost her heart?

  Slowly, she opened her eyes. They were so damn beautiful that he almost forgot why he had to warn her at all.

  “Gabe,” she whispered. Why did he enjoy the sound of his name on her lips? “We need to talk.”

  Her words were arrows through his chest. Too late. She gazed at him in adoration, and there was no mistaking the tenderness in her tone. He heaved himself up and braced his weight on his hands, his wrists grazing her shoulders, but couldn’t find the strength to leave the bed.

  “Not now.” His voice was harsh. Not ever. With damning reluctance, he withdrew from her warm embrace and rolled onto his back beside her. “Go to sleep.”

  He should have known she wouldn’t obey. She curled onto her side and stroked his chest. He closed his eyes, so he didn’t have to see her, but her gentle touch was as potent as ever.

  “Later,” she said, ignoring his attempts at protecting the fragile construct of her heart. “This can’t wait.”

  “It can.” To underline his point, he flung his arm across his eyes. He was in no mood for an argument. And it didn’t matter how logically he presented his case, she wouldn’t agree with him. There was plenty of time for them to talk about it tomorrow.

  Or next week.

  “It’s important.” She leaned against him, her soft curves not helping his resolve at all.

  This strategy wasn’t working. He rolled on top of her once again, pinning her to the bed. He’d saved her sanity earlier. It would be no problem seducing her so thoroughly that she forgot about her declarations of love and devotion.

  Until the next time. He wasn’t going to think about the next time.

  “Be quiet.” His mouth grazed hers and his cock hardened as she gave a submissive sigh. This was the answer. Fucking her into compliance until she was too damn exhausted to think, never mind speak.

  “We can’t risk a third time.”

  Her breathy comment managed to penetrate his rising lust and he stared down at her in bemusement. Of anything he’d been hoping to avoid her saying, this sure as hell hadn’t been it.

  As declarations of love and devotion went, it was bizarre. And he’d been on the receiving end of some eccentric proclamations in centuries past.

  His best strategy was to ignore it. Except he couldn’t. “We can’t risk what a third time?”

  “You know.” She gave him a pained look, as though she thought he was being deliberately obtuse. “Unprotected sex.”

  Unprotected sex? She was thinking about that, when he was concerned she’d been falling for him?

  It was almost funny. Shame he didn’t feel like laughing. “And your point is?”

  There was an edge in his voice. He couldn’t help it. He still couldn’t quite believe he’d so misjudged her mood.

  And why did the fact she wasn’t on the brink of declaring undying love for him, irk him?

  Sex with Aurora was interfering with the higher functions of his brain.

  “My point?” She gazed at him, confusing clouding her eyes. “Well, I don’t want to get pregnant, do I?”

  Ancient pain compressed his chest, and buried memories flooded his mind.

  Helena. The child of his heart. The child of his love.

  His miracle.

  “No.” His voice was flat, while savage regret wrenched through his psyche, all but paralyzing him. “You won’t get pregnant.”

  “But it’s possible,” she insisted, oblivious to the truth. “I’m not on any birth control, and even though it’s the wrong time of the month, I don’t want to take any chances.” There was a thread of panic in her tone, as though the possibility of conceiving the offspring of an archangel horrified her.

  And she was right to be horrified. Except Aurora would—could—never conceive his child.

  He pushed himself off her and collapsed onto his back. He’d never had a conversation like this before. Among those who possessed immortal blood, it wasn’t an issue, and for others they either knew the chances of conception were zero, or else they harbored a deluded desire to bear his child against all the odds.

  Usually, mortals were too damn enthralled by the experience to even think of something so … normal.

  When had Aurora ever reacted like a regular human?

  He was under no obligation to explain. If she chose not to believe his word, that was her problem. Yet he couldn’t dismiss her questions as easily as he wished.

  “Archangels don’t procreate.” They hadn’t for millennia. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

  She stirred, and he knew this wasn’t finished yet. Just leave the fucking room. It was his modus operandi, after all. Instead, he screwed his eyes shut, and Helena’s sweet smile greeted him, her unruly curls framing her face, and her enchanting laughter echoed through the dusty void that had once been his heart.

  “Why don’t I? You’ve got all the right equipment. And you can’t tell me archangels don’t p
rocreate, because I know they do.”

  His eyes snapped open, and she was propped on her elbow, gazing down at him. Denial burned through him, but it didn’t disguise the truth. Because she was right.

  But she had no right to throw that in his face. How dare she contradict him and suggest he lied?

  Because she’s Aurora. And that was the only reason she was in his bed. It was her disregard for all protocols that so ensnared him.

  It didn’t mean he had to indulge her.

  Her eyes widened in alarm, although he had no idea why. And then she brushed the tips of her fingers over his shoulder in an oddly conciliatory gesture.

  “I’m sorry.” She sounded contrite, and he exhaled a measured breath, relieved they could put this behind them without any need for further discussion. “It’s just as the myths of archangels are true, I’m guessing so are the stories of the—” She hesitated, clearly searching for the right word, and disbelief shimmered in his mind. She wasn’t going there. She wouldn’t dare. “Nephilim?”

  She went there. This was killing him from the inside out. And she didn’t have a clue.

  “Yes.” His voice was harsh, and he sat up, dislodging her gentle caress. Never explain. But he couldn’t stop the bitter words that demanded to be heard. “But like everything else from antiquity, humankind corrupted the truth.”

  He knew the stories that polluted the histories of Earth when it came to the beloved Nephilim. It was one of the reasons why he had little time for those born on this planet.

  “We might have the right equipment,” he tossed her words back at her with the scorn they deserved, “but archangels were never intended to procreate. Yet some did. But only with those you might quaintly refer to as their soul mate.”

  Soul mate. The words tasted sour on his tongue, but the appalled expression on her face was enough for him to know she had instantly understood the implications associated with that hated term.