Dark Kiss Of The Reaper

by Kristen Painter

  She explored the rest of the suite, making a mental note to take advantage of the big soaking tub in the marble drenched bathroom. She plopped down onto the cloud-like bed, sinking into the thick covers. Sweeping her arms over the satiny comforter, she tried to take in the reality of her new life.

  Tonight there would be more than sleeping taking place in this bed. A delicious shiver sent heat down her spine.

  The sound of the door shutting barely registered in the bedroom. She sat up as Azrael walked in. She wondered if the thoughts in her head showed on her face.

  “I told Philippe we needed clothes for dinner. He said there are stores right in the hotel. He’ll leave our tickets and reservation info at the front desk. We can pick it up when we’re ready.” He held out his hand to her. “Let’s go get something appropriate for our night out.”

  She took his hand, let him pull her up. “Are you trying to spoil me?”

  “Trying to? I thought I was.”

  “You are.”

  “Good, because I don’t plan on stopping.” He kissed her softly, his lips brushing hers.

  “I could get used to this.” She laughed as he handed her purse to her and tugged her toward the door. “If all mortal men were as eager to shop as you are, there’d probably be a lot less divorce in the country.”

  He shut the door behind them, then pushed the elevator call button. “It’s not the shopping, trust me. It’s watching you have fun.”

  “Really?” She tapped a finger against her chin. “So it wouldn’t matter to you if I was trying on lingerie or trench coats?”

  The elevator doors slid open behind her. He lowered his brows, dipping his chin to make eye contact. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  Half an hour later she was wearing a jaw-dropping little black dress from Chanel and a killer pair of Manolo Blahnik stilettos that together cost more than her first car. She did one final twirl in the mirror while Azrael paid the clerk. Had her legs always looked so good? The idea of feeling like a million bucks had never been more understandable. If this was how the other half lived, she was all for it.

  She hooked her arm through his and they strolled through the Esplanade. Azrael seemed fascinated by the myriad of colors and patterns on the floor and ceiling. She was so intent on watching him, she didn’t realize they’d entered another shop until the flooring changed underfoot.

  Security guards flanked the entrance of the jewelry store. An older man behind one of the glass cases greeted them with a smile. “Good evening. Welcome to Petrelli’s.”

  “Hi.” She glanced back at Azrael. He’d already given her an over the top ring, so he must want something for himself. She almost smacked her forehead. Of course! She’d completely forgotten he needed a wedding band.

  He scooped his arm behind her and around her waist, nodding to the man. “Good evening. Philippe told me you sell only the best quality diamonds.”

  The man smiled, obviously pleased. “Yes, sir, that’s true. Only the most exquisite pieces make it into our cases. Is there something particular I can show you?”

  Azrael’s hand went to the small of her back. “Anything she wants.”

  “I don’t need anything. You’ve spent enough already.” Sara shook her head. “The only thing we need is a wedding band for you.”

  “Good idea, but...” He traced the shell of her ear with his finger. “You need earrings.” He lifted her hand and kissed her wrist. “And a bracelet. Pick out whatever you want, then we’ll look at wedding bands.” He gave her a sly grin. “We’re not leaving until you do, so if you want to be responsible for us missing our reservation...” He shrugged.

  “You’re rotten, you know that? Two can play this game.” She laughed, turning her attention to the man waiting on them. “Show me your most expensive diamond earrings and bracelet, then I’ll look at your men’s wedding bands.”

  The spark in the man’s eyes was unmistakable. He moved to a case on the far wall and unlocked the cabinet. He slid out a creamy velvet tray, then presented it to them. “These diamond cluster earrings are fifteen carats of pear, marquis and round cuts, E color, VVS clarity. The bracelet...” He reached into the case, retrieving a blinding circle of fire and adding it to the tray. “Is another twenty-nine carats, same quality diamonds. All set in platinum. The finest pieces in the shop at the moment.”

  She reached for the bracelet, but he beat her to it, sliding the bracelet onto her wrist and fastening it.

  “It is only outshined by your beauty, miss.”

  “I don’t know about tha—”

  “We’ll take it. And the earrings,” Azrael said.

  She gave him a hold on look. “You don’t even know how much they are.”

  Azrael turned his head toward the clerk expectantly.

  “I would be happy to offer you both pieces for $200.”

  “$200? I thought these were diamonds?” Not that it mattered, cubic zirconia was fine with her.

  “Thousand, miss. Two hundred thousand.”

  Her knees buckled. “What?” The word hissed out of her like air leaking from a balloon. “We haven’t even picked out a wedding band yet.”

  Smiling, the man pulled out a small tray. “I have a nice selection of men’s wedding bands. I’d be happy to include one in the price I quoted.”

  Azrael dropped a stack of bills on the counter. “Have the boxes sent to the Salon suite. She’ll wear the pieces out.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The pleasures of the mortal life had become crystal clear in the course of the evening out with Sara. The food and drink surpassed Azrael’s expectations. The show left him wondering if some mortals had not indeed been born with powers beyond their natural abilities.

  And being at Sara’s side, as her husband-to-be, had allowed the pure, shining joy of a life with her to fill his world with a light unlike anything he’d ever known. His need for her had become his blood. It thrummed through his veins, hot and heavy. She infused him so completely that every moment in time that had come before her was forgotten. She was his here and now. His reason for tomorrow.

  Her fragrant warmth curled around him as she pressed against him in the elevator.

  “I had the most wonderful time of my life tonight,” she murmured. “But tomorrow will be even better, because tomorrow we’ll be married.” She laughed, soft and drowsy. “I can’t believe it, but it’s true and I’m happier than I thought possible. I love you, Az.”

  He smiled at her shortening of his name. It was intimate and personal and affectionate, the exact opposite of what Kol implied when he used it. “I love you, too. And I feel the same about this night. And tomorrow. Especially tomorrow.” He lifted her chin and brought his lips to hers. She tasted of wine and chocolate and desire.

  She sank into him further, parting her mouth to take his kiss with a hushed moan.

  The elevator chimed. The doors whooshed open. Without breaking the kiss, he scooped her into his arms and strode the few steps across the hall to their room. He opened the door with the keycard, wishing his powers weren’t so limited in mortal form, then pushed through and nudged it shut again with his foot.

  “I need you, Sara.” The huskiness of his voice surprised him.

  She nodded, her lips flush with their kiss. “I know. I need you, too.”

  He carried her into the bedroom and set his precious cargo gently on the bed. Just as he moved away, she threaded her fingers into his hair, pulling him back down.

  She crushed her mouth against his with a hunger that stirred his body beyond control. He had thought to take this slowly, with great gentleness and tempered passion, to show her how careful he would always be with her. “Sara, I—”

  “No, Az, I can’t wait.” Her words came out heated and breathy. “I want you right now. Do you understand? Right now.”

  She tipped her head back into the coverlet, moaning, shuttering her eyes. “I’ll beg if I have to.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” He loosed the fierce need t
hat had been building in him from the first moment they’d crossed paths and bent his head to the pale, exposed column of her neck. His tongue trailed her flesh, causing her to shiver and moan again.

  Her hands fisted in his shirt. She arched up, pressing her breasts against him. His teeth scuffed her collarbone. With one hand, he found the strap of her dress and tugged it down.

  She pushed him away. “Take your shirt off. I want to look at you.” She laughed lightly, throwing her head back as though she amused herself. “Apparently, lust makes me bossy.”

  He rose to his knees and unbuttoned his shirt, aroused by her commands and the newfound boldness that had taken hold of her. “Yes, mistress.”

  She blushed hard, but her gaze never left him. “You’re beautiful, you know that? Like a Greek god carved in marble.” She exhaled. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

  Tossing his shirt aside, he bent back over her, a palm at either side of her head. “I’m glad you approve. Now I’m going to devour you like I’ve wanted to since we met.”

  “Oh no, you don’t.” She shook her head and pushed at him again. “You’re not done.”

  He cocked a brow. “Of course I’m not done. I haven’t even started.”

  “I mean those.” She pointed down between them. “Lose the pants, nice and slow. I want to enjoy this.”

  Slanting his mouth across hers, he kissed her hard, then rose back up to his knees and began unbuckling his belt. His sweet Sara had a decidedly wicked seam. He could barely believe how good the Fates had been to him.

  “I think you shall have champagne with every meal from now on.”

  * * *

  A slipstream of sun woke Sara. She yawned and rolled over, arms outstretched in search of the man who’d kept her up all night. The bed beside her was empty.

  She opened her eyes and pushed up onto her elbows. “Azrael?”

  Not a half second later, he appeared in the doorway, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. “I thought I’d be back before you woke up.”

  She ran a hand through her hair, knowing what a mess it must be but hardly caring. “Hi, handsome.” She tipped her chin at the cup he carried toward her. “Is that for me?”

  “Yes.” He sat on the edge of the bed and handed the coffee over. As she sipped, one of his hands tunneled beneath the covers to stroke his fingers down her thigh. Instantly, her body hummed to life for a reason that had nothing to do with caffeine. Last night might have been his first time, but he’d done everything right. Oh, so right.

  She swallowed another sip of the delicious liquid, the heat from the coffee no match for the heat building elsewhere. “Do you have an off switch?”

  Grinning, he shook his head. “Not around you.” He slid his hand out from beneath the covers. “I guess the champagne’s worn off.”

  She groaned softly, pressed the heel of her palm to one temple. “Trust me, it’s not entirely gone. I think I have a little bit of a hangover.” She prayed that was all the dull throb in her head was and not one of her usual day-killing migraines. Today was her wedding day. She had no time for a headache.

  “Should I get you something else?” Concern darkened his eyes.

  She lifted her coffee cup. “I’ll be fine after I finish this.” She downed another sip. “And take a long, hot shower.” She fluttered her lashes. “Care to join me?” There were other ways to get rid of a headache; she’d just never had that particular remedy quite so available before.

  To the Wynn’s credit, the water stayed hot through four orgasms. Azrael showed no signs of cooling, either.

  A ringing phone got them out of the shower and into towels. Wisps of steam tailed him into the bedroom when he went to answer it. She wrapped her hair up in another towel and followed him with her gaze, unable to take her eyes off a single water droplet making its way down the ladder of his stomach.

  “Hello? Yes, thank you.” He covered the mouthpiece. “It’s Philippe. He wants to send us breakfast before the clothes come to be fitted. What would you like?”

  “Mmm...two eggs over easy, bacon, hash browns and pancakes with some kind of fruit on top. And whipped cream. And orange juice.”

  When his eyes rounded in surprise, she shrugged a still damp shoulder and replied, “What? I worked up an appetite.”

  “That makes two of us.” He doubled the order when he relayed it to Philippe, then hung up and walked back into the bathroom, standing behind her in front of the mirror. His mouth found the curve of her shoulder while his hands griped her hips, drawing her backside against his groin.

  She paused, moisturizer-laden hands mid-air, to stare at him in the glass. “Again?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” His words vibrated through her skin and into her core. He lifted his head to stare back at her, a devilish gleam lighting his eyes. “Breakfast won’t be here for half an hour and I’m hungry now.” The gleam dimmed. “Unless you’re not feeling well enough?”

  A deliciously wicked tingle swept through her. Being desired was a wonderful thing. The stuff of any woman’s dreams. He’d drenched her in diamonds and designer clothes, wined her, dined her, and given her unbelievable amounts of pleasure. How could she say no to anything he wanted? She winked at him. “I feel plenty well enough.” Not exactly the truth, but he was worth it.

  Twenty minutes later, panting and limp, she sprawled on the bed in a fog of bliss. He brought her a robe, helped her into it, then went to get her another cup of coffee.

  “Maybe we should skip the fancy clothes and get married like this,” she said as she took the cup from him.

  “In bathrobes?” He slanted his eyes away as though he were thinking about it. “I like it. Much less to get you out of once the ceremony is over.”

  She laughed. “Sex has corrupted your brain.”

  “Too late. You already said yes.” He squeezed her knee. “Breakfast will be here soon. I have some work I need to do, but I’ll only be gone the equivalent of five of your minutes.”

  “Okay, I guess I should put some clothes on then.” She got up to get dressed, setting her coffee cup on the nightstand.

  He handed her a small roll of bills. “Take this.”

  “What for?”

  “Just in case.” He kissed her, then flashed to his Reaper form and disappeared.

  And although she knew he’d only be gone a short time, a small sorrow welled up. She almost shut it away, but instead she let the bittersweet rush fill her as proof that she loved him. By the end of the day, he would be hers completely and nothing could ever separate them after that.

  This might be the one marriage where “until death do us part” wouldn’t apply.

  Happiness renewed, she dressed and put on a little makeup, letting her hair air dry. A knock at the door brought her out of the bathroom. Azrael was already there opening it, letting room service in.

  She sidled up to him, hugging his arm. “Is it silly that I missed you?”

  He kissed the top of her head. “I like being missed.”

  They ate breakfast quickly, finishing just as the selection of wedding dresses and suits arrived. Philippe followed the racks in.

  “Good morning. How are the bride and groom today? Nervous? Excited?” His entire face lit up. He either loved weddings or planning them.

  “Very well. Not nervous, are we?” Azrael looked at her, waiting for an affirmation.

  “No, not nervous at all. Excited. Ready to get married.” And she was, more than she’d ever been. Life had never been so perfect.

  “Wonderful!” Philippe gestured to the young woman with the rack of dresses. “This is Ryka. She’s going to help you with the dresses. Anything that needs alterations, she can handle. Why don’t you two use the bedroom and we’ll fit the suit out here? Bad luck for the groom to see the bride and all that.”

  “Sounds good.” Sara shook her finger at Azrael. “No peeking.”

  Once Ryka had the rack of dresses in, Sara shut the bedroom door. “Hi, I’m Sara. Nice to meet you.”

  “
You too.” Beneath artfully sculpted brows, the brunette beauty’s eyes lifted at the corners, cat-like and exotic. “Your fiancé is hot stuff, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

  Sara laughed. “I don’t mind. I happen to think so too.”

  Ryka gripped the rack’s supporting bar. “Why don’t you look through these, pick out the ones you like best and try them on? If there’s nothing here that suits you, I can get another rack in about an hour.”

  “I’m sure there will be something perfect. There must be a hundred dresses here.” Sara drifted her hand across the garment bag wrapped gowns.

  “Forty-two actually. Plus a good selection of veils. Also, I didn’t know if you’d have the right foundation garments, so I brought some of those too.” She held up a small bag. “The dresses are hung in order of the simplest to the most elaborate.” Ryka pulled the first one out and unzipped the bag. “This is a crystal white shantung silk, strapless corset-style top with lacing down the back. No adornments, no beading, nothing. It’s a great dress if you’ve got some really stunning jewelry to wear with it or you can pair it with a really over the top veil.”

  Sara went to the dresser and took the black velvet boxes from the top drawer. “I have these.” She opened them to show Ryka the diamond earrings and bracelet.

  “Holy Mother of God.” Ryka glanced at her then back at the jewels. “Sorry. You’d think working in Vegas I’d get used to seeing rocks like that, but up close they’re always so much more impressive. Nice. Very nice. And great with a dress like this.” She shooed Sara toward the bathroom. “Go try it on.”

  Five minutes later and Sara was done struggling with the lacing down the back. She came out holding the dress up with her arms pinned to her sides. “How are you supposed to put a dress like this on without help?”

  “You’re not. Here, let me.”

  Once laced in, Sara turned before the mirror. The dress hugged her body in a way that was both elegant and sexy. She added the earrings and bracelet.