by Brenda Huber
Her body shattered, and still he continued to worship her, driving her ruthlessly up peak after peak until she sobbed his name in sheer, mindless abandon.
Xander finally released her and sat back on his heels. She sprawled before him, panting. She stared blindly at the ceiling. Her body was limp. One hand was plastered to the headboard, the other was tangled in the twisted bedding at her side. The taste of her honey was the most intoxicating aphrodisiac he’d ever experienced. His body was strung out, rock hard, and aching. He couldn’t get enough of her.
He’d meant what he’d said before. This was meant to be. She was always meant to belong to him. But there was one thing he hadn’t told her yet.
He was never going to let her go.
Xander prowled up her boneless body, and eased himself on top of her, bracing his weight on his elbows on either side of her head. He captured her lips in a long, slow, yet demanding kiss. Her arms came around him, and she raised her knees, dragging her feet up the backs of his thighs. The feel of her limbs wrapped around him, her pliant body soft beneath him, her tongue tangling with his drove him crazy. He fought not to lose control. It was the hardest battle of his life. He wanted to savor every moment, every sensation.
The pace of her breathing began to pick up again. Her legs lifted higher as she moved beneath him, lifting her pelvis, rubbing against him; her passion rapidly rekindled. Xander eased his hips back, then shifted forward until he slid his erection along her drenched, silky cleft. Torturing them both, he rubbed back and forth at a snail’s pace. The friction made him shudder and tremble in her arms. She writhed against him now, whimpering, urging him on. Her body was telling him she needed more, begging him for more.
And he needed more.
He drew his knees up beneath her bottom and slipped a hand under her lower back. He slid his free hand beneath her shoulders and pulled her up with him until he was kneeling on the bed with her straddling his lap. She locked her ankles behind him and wiggled closer. Xander gripped her hips between his hands and, holding her steady, he lifted her higher, until the tip of his throbbing erection nudged her entrance. Tipping his head back, he watched her face, watched as she gasped and she stared back at him.
Only then did he lower her down his throbbing length. One long, slow, torturous inch at a time.
“Xander,” she moaned.
Her silky sheath slipped over him, tight, hot, squeezing him, making him groan. Wrapping his arms around her waist, splaying his hands on her sides, he began to lift, lower, lift her, smooth and steady, until she whimpered low in her throat, her eyelids sliding closed as she tipped her forehead to touch his.
“Oh God, Xander, don’t stop,” she begged. “Don’t ever stop.”
The sound of his name on her lips at the pinnacle of her passion stirred possessive and elemental instincts until he felt he would burst with it. Anchoring an arm around her, he leaned forward, lowering them both to the bed.
He’d meant to be gentle. Meant to go slowly and draw this out. But the way she took him in and urged him on with wild abandon shattered his restraint. Over and over he plunged, each thrust faster and more forceful than the last. He pushed his hands up behind her, hooked them over her shoulders taking some of his weight off her, anchoring her in place. He leaned down and seized her lips.
She tasted so sweet. If he had but one moment to take with him, only one moment to remember for the rest of his eternal life, let it be this one.
Her body began to tense beneath his. Her nails dug into his back, and the burn was exquisite. Her whimpers were frantic now. He branded openmouthed kisses down the side of her neck, gripped her shoulders and rolled his hips, rocking into her with such force the bed frame shook and groaned. Over and over. And once again Kyanna screamed his name. Her sheath contracted on him and her nails scored his flesh. Xander pressed his mouth to her neck, felt her pulse pounding beneath his lips. He growled aloud as he emptied himself deep inside her.
He lay there for long moments afterward, still joined with her, thunderstruck, as her breath rushed across the side of his temple. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t fathom the intensity of what had just happened between them.
Without a word passing between them, Xander rolled to his side. He curled his arm possessively around her, carefully turning her, and drew her back, tucking her securely into the shelter of his body. She was boneless against him, snuggling close with a contented sigh. Xander conjured thick, soft blankets to cover them. He rested his cheek against her hair and drew the scent of her in deep, pleased when her breathing grew slow and even. Well over an hour passed as he lay like that, holding her. An hour of pure contentment, the likes of which he’d never known, not even as an angel in Heaven. And when he fell asleep, he did so with one enveloping thought on his mind.
He’d kill anyone or anything that tried to take his treasure from him.
Chapter Nineteen
“Please, Xander,” she pleaded. “I’m going stir crazy in here. I need to stretch my legs. We’re in the middle of nowhere. Nobody is going to find us here. You can even come with me if you’re that worried.”
Xander lowered the can of Pepsi, and rested his elbow on the arm of the sofa. That there-and-gone-again groove in his cheek flirted from his cheek and his heated gaze swept over her. “I would have thought you’d gotten enough exercise last night.”
Heat flooded her face, and she ducked her head. He’d laid siege to her defenses and claimed her body no less than four times over the course of the night. Hard and fast. Slow and easy. Rough, gentle, and every degree in between. And when she woke up cuddled in his arms this morning, he’d kissed her senseless and ravished her yet again.
He utterly baffled her. He was still quiet. Still…Xander. But the smoldering, knowing glances he kept sending her way left her shaken to the tips of her toes. As if he were remembering the way she’d screamed his name in the throes of every bone-melting climax. Or the way she’d clung to him, writhed against him, and begged for more.
She was a woman who’d always made sure her relationships were clear cut. For obvious reasons, she couldn’t afford for there to be room for mistakes. But this thing she had with Xander? She had no clue. It was an uncomfortable sensation, being on the fence like this. Were they a couple now? Had it just been a one-time thing? Had last night been a lapse in judgment for both of them? Had it been a product of extenuating circumstances? What did he feel for her? What did she feel for him? The whole situation made her edgy. But she couldn’t bring herself to broach the subject with him. She felt vulnerable and the risk was more than she cared to consider. So she let things ride.
For now, at least.
Ignoring the heat in her cheeks, she crossed her arms and peered out the window over the sink. There were still several hours till sunset. They could take a nice hike through the woods. She’d never needed the big city to thrive. But, truly, the inactivity was beginning to get to her. Then again, maybe it was being virtually locked up in such a small space with all this unresolved tension hanging in the air.
“Just for a little while?”
“It’s not safe, Kyanna.”
“I put enchantments around the book and the stone, just as you asked. And you have your ward stones around the cabin. They’ll be fine.”
“I’m not talking about the book and the stone. I’m talking about you.” He downed the last of his Pepsi and vanished the can. Funny how she’d become accustomed to this little quirk of things appearing from out of nowhere, and then disappearing just as quickly. “I found this place once. Anyone else can too.”
“I trust you to protect me.” She bent down to take hold of his hands and drew him to his feet. “Please?”
“Half an hour,” he grudgingly agreed.
Before she had time to blink, she was suddenly wearing a warm sweatshirt and comfortable hiking boots. Touched by his consideration, she grinned up at hi
m. “That’s handy.”
“I’m faster at taking them off.” He arched an eyebrow, his gray eyes sparkling with temptation. “Wanna see?”
Her lips twitched. He was a sneaky one, all right, trying to divert her from her goals. And if anything could do it that would be it. “After our walk.”
Kyanna spun on her heel and hurried to the door, beckoning him forward before he could change her mind. The air was crisp and so fresh she could have made a small fortune bottling and marketing it. Several yards from the cabin, she threw her arms out and spun around, drinking in the scenery. This surely had to be one of the most beautiful places on Earth. No wonder Xander chose this spot as his haven. Glancing over her shoulder, she offered him a wide, encouraging smile. He followed at a much more sedate pace. Finally, frustrated that he wasn’t moving fast enough, she took hold of his hand and pulled him onward.
They wandered through the woods, with Kyanna chatting incessantly and Xander responding in his customary monosyllables and grunts, until they came to a meadow. He hesitated at the edge of the small clearing. And then, seeming to square his shoulders, he took the lead and guided her to a massive stone. Without a word, he grasped her waist, lifted her up to the top of the boulder. He perched beside her and drew her against his side.
“It’s so beautiful here,” she whispered, awed.
Xander was silent. Turning to look up at him, she caught the strangest expression on his face. He looked peaceful. She’d never seen him like that.
Okay, well, to be fair, she had. Several times last night, and again this morning, in fact. Every time he’d lost himself deep inside her. Each and every time he’d—
Heat and hunger flooded her body at the memory. Clearing her throat, she sternly mastered her thoughts.
She laid her hand on his knee. “What is this place?”
“I come here to pray.”
She didn’t know what surprised her more, that he had a special place like this or that he would share it with her. She blinked up at him, completely at a loss as to what to say. This was deep. He was allowing her to see an important part of himself, something she was sure he’d allowed no one else to see. The realization warmed her to her toes. He tucked her more firmly against his side and wrapped his arm around her, sparing her from having to respond.
“I found this place by accident shortly after we renounced Lucifer.” He laced his fingers through hers. “I built the cabin and I come here whenever I need to focus.” He was quiet for a moment, before adding, “Whenever the path becomes unclear.”
“Wait.” She tipped her head back on his shoulder so she could see his face. “You built the cabin?”
He nodded.
“With your bare hands?”
The groove in his cheek peeped at her. “I might have used a few tools now and then.”
“Why didn’t you just conjure it, like all the other stuff?”
He leered down at her. “Sometimes I like to work with my hands.”
She nudged him. “Seriously!”
He shrugged. “I do like to work with my hands, building things, you know? It’s therapeutic. Besides conjuring can be very draining. The size of what we’re conjuring also plays a factor in how much energy we expend. For small stuff—a can of Pepsi, a shirt—it’s really nothing. Not unless we’re severely injured, or after morphing from one shape to the other. Though it affects everyone differently, going demonic—or coming back from it—is very disorienting and taxing on the system in general. Niklas, for example, can get raging migraines. For Sebastian…it’s a lot like a human with a severe hangover. So conjuring isn’t always ideal. That’s why we try to keep necessities on hand. Just in case.”
“Some of those timbers are huge.”
“The others help out on occasion, for a price.”
“A price?”
“They get to use the place whenever they want, as long as I’m not already here.” He urged her head back to the curve of his shoulder. The sound of his voice rumbled against her ear, and the steady beat of his heart echoed throughout her entire body. “They don’t come here often though. Sebastian prefers his farm, and Gideon has a place down south.”
“And you mentioned Niklas has a flat in Paris.”
“Yes.”
“What about Mikhail?”
“No one really knows exactly where he spends his time.”
“Hmm.” That sounded about right. From what she’d been able to gather, Mikhail seemed to be the ultimate recluse among the bunch, not that any of them appeared to go out of their way to share company. But he gave new meaning to the term lone wolf.
Before she’d placed the book and the stone in a small chest in Xander’s loft bedroom, she’d done a quick search for the Demon of War. While the book had a lot of valuable information, it also contained frustrating holes and obvious misinformation when it came to identifying demons. However, she’d been able to safely determine one thing. As one of Lucifer’s devoted followers, Mikhail had been one ubber-bad SOB. Any time—every time—there’d been a battle between good and evil, especially if it’d been a particularly bloody conflict, Mikhail had always been up close and personal, leading the charge. The book even speculated that he’d had some sort of influence over the wars that broke out amongst mankind as well.
It was silly, really—she didn’t lend much credence to the connotation, thought it more superstitious babble like what she’d read about Xander withering the crops in the fields—but one of her ancestors had hinted that the Demon of War was, perhaps, one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
Nonsense. Uneducated, medieval, superstitious conjecture.
Then again, was it?
Putting those disturbing thoughts aside, she took a mental tour of his cabin and marveled over the details. “Everything is so modern.”
“It’s a work in progress. I’ve updated it over the years.”
“What about the electricity? How did you—”
“There’s a big generator in that shed attached to the well house out back.”
Kyanna let her thoughts race. The logistics were mind boggling. They’d been wandering in a wide circle around the cabin, and she hadn’t seen even the faintest hint of a road. “How did you have the furniture delivered? The sofa, and the bed—”
Before she could say more, a massive bed identical to the one back at the cabin suddenly appeared in the middle of the meadow. Startled birds squawked and took flight. Her jaw dropped. Of course. His nifty little conjuring ability. How could she have forgotten that?
He tipped his head close and whispered in her ear. “Wanna see if it’s as comfortable as the other one?”
She couldn’t help it, she laughed out loud. Xander stared down at her, his expression an odd mixture of bemusement, consternation and tenderness. Without warning, he leaned in and captured her lips with his. The kiss was slow and so incredibly sweet, her heart fluttered. Once he released her, she glanced back at the clearing. The bed was gone. All was as it should be.
She thought about the things he’d told her, and one comment stood out.
“What did you mean earlier when you said, ‘whenever the path becomes unclear’?”
The light in his eyes dimmed. His attention turned to the meadow, and he drew a deep breath. Tension invested his frame.
“I’ve been earthbound for two hundred years, Kyanna.” He drew away from her, propped his elbows on his raised knees and clasped his wrist in the opposite hand. She felt the emotional distance far keener than the physical withdrawal. “Two hundred years of fighting the very thing I became when I fell from Heaven.” He popped his jaw. “Two hundred years is a long time to fight for something that will probably never happen.”
The bleak acceptance in his voice startled her. He truly didn’t think he would ever earn redemption. And yet he continued to seek it.
It hurt her to see him
so dejected. The instinct to offer comfort was more than she could deny. Slipping her hand down his thigh, she leaned into him, rested her chin on his bicep, and stared up at him. “What you do, you and the others, what you do makes a difference. You have to believe that.”
The muscle in his jaw bunched. He suddenly leaped down from the boulder and paced away. Unease filled her. She hopped down and chased after him.
“You do believe that, right? Xander?”
He drew up short and she smashed into his back. He turned in time to catch her before she fell down.
“Right?” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and insisted, “What you do is important.”
He didn’t exactly snort in disbelief, but the deadpan look he gave her spoke eloquently of his skepticism. He released her and stormed away.
“Damn it, Xander.” Her patience gone, she stood her ground and yelled at him. “Turn around and look at me.”
He stopped and slowly turned on his heel, obviously unable to believe she’d just taken that tone with him. She marched right up to him, took his face in her hands, and pulled his head down so she could glare him right in the eyes. “You save people, Xander. Not innocents. People. Just like Mr. Dobbs.” At his blank look, she heaved a put-upon sigh and elaborated, “The old man at the gas station?” Recognition dawned, and she went on. “You save lives, like Gina Taylor’s little boys. I’m telling you, what you do matters. Do you understand me?”
He didn’t say a word. He neither accepted her point, nor denied her claim. Instead, he reached up and grasped her wrists in his fists. She didn’t give him the chance to pull away again. Kyanna went up on her toes, and she kissed him. She had to get through to him, somehow. It was imperative that he understand he was important too. And not only in the greater scheme of things.
He was important to her.
“What you do is amazing, Xander. You matter.”
He drew back to stare at her, clearly shocked. He looked as if she’d just sucker punched him. He opened his mouth, closed it. His hands gripped her shoulders. Shaking his head, he released her and stomped away. Some thirty yards away, he stopped in his tracks. He propped his laced fingers on the top of his head, his back still to her as he began to speak.