Chosen Angels: A Paranormal Reverse Harem Romance (Lilith and Her Harem Book 4)

by May Dawson

  He nodded. "It's terrifying. The human is locked inside while the demon controls their body. Demons take pleasure in breaking a human however they can, from the inside or out."

  I cocked my head to one side. "Do you think Dani could be possessed?"

  He hesitated. "I think humans do bad things for a lot of reasons. They don't need demon help. Dani thinks she has a hell of a reason to hate us."

  I shook my head. I couldn't imagine what kind of fury—and literal fire—I'd unleash on the world if I saw my boys killed. But I wouldn't be on the hunt for innocents, just to hurt someone back.

  "I can imagine wanting to hurt someone," I said. "But I can't imagine going after someone's mom."

  "That's because you're a good person." He pushed my hair back behind my ear, then rested his palm against my cheek, his expression fond. "Not a good girl. But a good person."

  "You would hate it if I was a good girl."

  "I would," he affirmed, his lips quirking up.

  He leaned in, and I leaned forward too. Our lips met. His soft lower lip pressed against mine, and I kissed it slowly, giving it my full attention, until I kissed my way to the quirk at the corner of his mouth. There was a faint dimple in his cheek, and I kissed that too, wanting to appreciate every bit of his handsome face and rough-hewn, chiseled body.

  He wrapped his hands around my thighs and pulled me up, drawing my body against his. I rested my hands on his shoulders, feeling the movement of his powerful body against mine as he carried me across the room. His bare feet padded across the mats. I twisted to see where we were going. He set me down on the edge of the old wooden desk in the corner, a relic from the old office where the boys sometimes left their folded t-shirts and their water bottles.

  The hard wood pressed up against my ass and thighs, even through my clothes, as if my body was hyper-sensitive right now. His hands wrapped around my hips, holding me securely on the edge of the desk, as I leaned forward into more of his kisses.

  His lips parted, and I slipped my tongue tentatively into his. His tongue slid against mine. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and then ran a hand through his thick, spiky dark blond hair. He responded by yanking my hips forward slightly, so my inner thighs were pressed against his. He kissed me hard.

  I was glad to have him back. To have us back. To tell him that I loved him and to kiss him and to feel the fierce way he kissed me, his hand warm and possessive on my cheek like he needed me.

  I hooked my thumbs under the waistband of his shorts. I felt his lips smile against mine. His fingers traced up my sides, raising goosebumps at his touch, and then he drew my shirt up. I raised my arms so he could yank the shirt off.

  He drew my shirt up, but then paused when all I could see was a white haze of fabric. I felt his lips press against my breast. Every touch felt heightened when I couldn’t see him.

  His lips traced the edges of my lacy bra. One hand slid up my waist and over my back to release the clasp on my bra, and the cups slid away from my breasts, suddenly loose.

  “No fair,” I scolded him, trying to pull the shirt off over my head now. I was suddenly quite distracted as his tongue flicked against my nipple, teasing me before he drew it into his mouth. I breathed in, a quick intake of break, and in response he released my nipple before drawing circles around it with his tongue. I shifted on the desk, hungry for release already and reaching for him. My fingers grazed his rock-hard cock through his mesh shorts, and he rocked his hips back away from me, pulling out of my reach.

  I pulled my shirt and bra off, throwing them across the room. I frowned at his cock, reaching for it again, and he grinned as he pulled away. I slipped off the desk, following him, and he finally gave up and let me catch him. I squeezed him through his shorts, feeling the soft give of his breath.

  “Why don’t you want me to have what’s mine?” I asked, mock-pouting.

  “Oh, believe me, I do,” he said fervently. He rested his hands on my hips as he leaned in toward me. I massaged him through his shorts as I slid my free arm across his broad shoulders. Our lips met, our tongues tangled. He broke away and then kissed me, a neat little peck, and then his hands on my hips spun me around. He pushed me against the desk, his thumbs sliding over my hips as he pulled my pants down. I felt his cock press against my ass as his hand delved between my thighs. I rested my hands on the cool wood, holding myself there as his fingers worked steadily against my clit, as my knees began to go weak.

  I reached behind me, taking him in my hand, and pulled him between my thighs. He leaned against my back, his hands on either side of my waist, as his cock brushed over my clit teasingly. I pushed my ass back into his hips, wriggling against him. He groaned into my hair.

  “Give,” I said.

  He took his cock in one hand and rubbed it against my clit once before trying to ease just the tip inside. It felt awkward at this angle. He put his hand on my back and pushed me lower, and I rested my elbows on the desk. His cock slid in deep.

  I gasped as he slid all the way in. The sense of being filled up was intense, and then I felt his weight shift against my back as he leaned heavily on one arm. His other hand brushed against my thigh, swept up my inner thigh. They traced over my full, swollen lips wrapped around his cock, and he groaned.

  “You are so wet,” he murmured into my hair. “I love that you feel that way for me.”

  I wriggled my ass back against his hips, pushing him in a little harder, a little deeper. “I didn’t just love you for your smarts and courage and protectiveness and cute smile. Although I do love all those things.”

  He kissed my shoulder, his lips tender even though his cock was buried deep inside me. “I love you too, Firestarter. More than Fate alone could ever make me feel.”

  I smiled, and then his fingers stroked over my clit, and my back arched against his body. I turned my face into his neck, breathing in his scent of wood-smoke and grass and peaches. I nuzzled my face into the scruff of his five o’clock shadow, the roughness across his hard jaw and high-boned cheeks. His fingers stroked steadily over me, driving me to the edge of madness, and I felt myself clench around him, so hard it almost hurt, a pain that was pleasure too.

  “Please,” I murmured.

  He eased out of me and then in again. His cock filled me again and again, and his fingers kept stroking my clit. With every stroke, his cock almost slipped out entirely, and then he’d push inside. The tip of his cock hit my g-spot and then kept going, deeper, filling me up, and when I was about to gasp because his cock was so much to take in, he would ease out and begin all over again. My g-spot warmed, eager for more of him, as my clit grew so swollen and hot that I thought I couldn’t bare his touch anymore. I reached down, my fingers on the back of his broad hand, but he went on, mercilessly pushing me toward orgasm as my knees began to tremble.

  He wrapped his other arm around my waist, holding me against his body, holding me up as my arms turned soft and weak. My core tightened over and over around his cock, and the rest of the world faded away. There was nothing but his cock and my clit and my g-spot, the two of them competing for which would drive me mad first.

  Then I came, so intensely from both my g-spot and clit at once that the world was a blur of heat and pleasure. He held me up as my fingers tightened on the edge of the desk, my bones turning to jelly because my body was overcome by the waves of pleasure.

  Slowly, I came back to reality: his hard forearm across my lower abs, his cock still buried deep inside me, my core tightening in aftershocks. I could feel the moment when he came too. His head bowed against my shoulder, and this time, I held him up as he wrapped his arms around my waist and came hard, pushing me into the desk.

  He pushed up away from me, pressing his lips to my shoulder. His cock eased away, and I turned in his arms.

  I took his handsome face in my hands. His five o’clock shadow grew out reddish-blond, sexy as hell, in contrast with his tanned skin and deep green eyes. The pendant hung between us, over his broad, tanned chest.
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  I felt like I should say something, but I just kissed him.

  Sometimes only a kiss can say what you really mean.

  Chapter 21

  I carried Dani's supper into the cell room. I was desperate to persuade her over to our side of things, and not least of all because we couldn't just imprison some random human witch in our basement forever.

  Dani sat with her back against the white-washed cinder block wall, her thick hair draped over one shoulder; she twisted the rope of her hair between her hands absently as she stared up at the ceiling. "I'm going to kill your mom, too."

  Even with Dani trapped on the other side of the bars, that sent a chill through me.

  I dropped the tray on the table in the corner of the room and turned to her, crossing my arms over my chest. "When you said that I killed your brother. What did you mean, exactly? What do you think you saw?"

  Her lips curled into a slight smile. "You think you can gaslight me, Ellis? I grew up with the king and queen of gas-lighting. You aren't going to convince me that my own eyes deceived me."

  "Even though your brother could trick anyone into seeing what he wanted them to see?" Knowing Nimshi, I imagined that he had used his powers on Dani. They had loved each other, the one true bond in Nim’s tough young life, but love wouldn’t take the trickster out of my Nim.

  Dani glanced over at me sharply. "Nim wouldn't have shown me that. There's no reason."

  "Maybe." I couldn't imagine a reason why he would have shown her a fake death scene. "But was Beliel dead by then? Or there could been a third demon?"

  "You tell me. It's your fairy tale."

  "How’s your shoulder?" I looked down at her tray. I was still pissed that she'd threatened my mother. Dani would hurt me any way she could right now.

  She didn't answer. But from the corner of my eye, I saw her reflexively touch the bottom of her shoulder, the one she’d been shot through after she bombed our car. The wound was clean and stitched and dressed. But that was all we’d done for her lately.

  “Do you want me to get you some Motrin? Maybe even something stronger?” I lifted half her grilled cheese sandwich off the plate. It was perfectly toasted, fragrant with butter and melted cheddar cheese. I left the tray behind and walked toward her cell, settling cross-legged just out of reach.

  “I don’t want anything from you, bitch,” she said. “Except for my brother back from the dead.”

  I took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. "I'll tell you what I saw the day we all lost Nim.”

  Her eyes tightened at the corners. She was angry that I was claiming to have lost him too. But all she said was, "Guess I can't stop you."

  "Guess you can't." I took another bite. "I'd had a vision in the Far. Of that day when the Company had snipers on us, and we were pinned between a furious angel and the Company. In my vision, we all died, every last one of us."

  She cocked her head, watching me steadily. "Actually, I'm loving this story."

  "I told Nimshi about it. But when things went south in your house, I didn't understand what he was doing at first. He made it seem like he'd played us all the whole time. He made it look to Beliel like he slit Jacob's throat, and he was giving us over to the Company. Zuriel attacked, determined to avenge Jacob's death."

  She stared at the ceiling, refusing to meet my eyes.

  "So Nimshi sacrificed himself when Zuriel—and the Company—would have killed us all between them."

  "It doesn't sound like you knew my brother very well," she said, her voice mocking. "You expect me to buy this story. Nimshi, the hero."

  "Really?" I asked. "Because I saw him take punch after punch from you, rather than raise his hand to you. Because he loved you."

  There was a flash of pain across her face. She didn't like to remember how she'd greeted her brother, the day before he died.

  "He said that, you know." I stood to drop the crust of sandwich on the plate; I couldn't eat anymore. My stomach felt tight remembering that day. "That he had loved you before he lost his soul, so he still did. That it felt like a habit."

  "Yeah. He loved me before our parents took his soul. He couldn't have loved you." Her voice was bitter.

  "I don't think he needed his soul for that," I said. "He wanted to be here with us. And he wanted to be with you, too."

  "Too bad you betrayed him."

  "What he needed his soul for was to keep him out of Hell. Where he is now. Where he's being tortured by Samael. And you won't help him." My words had begun flatly, but my voice rose steadily when I said and you won’t help him. It was infuriating that Dani and I wanted the same thing—Nim, alive and well again—and yet she was doing everything she could to rip apart our mission.

  "You're not going to convince me," Dani said. "I saw Zuriel tell you to kill him. I saw you do it."

  "Did you see the part where the angels yanked Zuriel back on his leash?"

  "Where Zuriel was rewarded for killing a demon by returning to Heaven?" she said. "Yeah. I saw that. And then Beliel and I ran, but he died in my arms."

  "He was alive! He must have created what you saw."

  "I've known Beliel since we were kids," she said. "He wasn't that kind of demon. He didn't have Nim's powers."

  I picked up her tray and set it on the ground. The bars of the cell were raised at the bottom on one side, just slightly wider than the side of a tray, and I pushed it with the toe of my foot under the bars. I wasn't getting within arm's reach of her. Even though part of me wanted to bash her into seeing sense.

  That violent Hunter culture was starting to win me over.

  "I don't want it." She crossed her arms over her chest. "You're going to have to let me go eventually, Ellis."

  "No," I said. "The thing is that I really don't."

  I left the witch there and headed upstairs to find my boys. Jacob was in the dining room, paging carefully through a text so ancient that he had slipped a cotton glove onto one hand. So ancient that he was doing without his usual cup of black coffee, which he drank even late at night. He said he was impervious to caffeine after his steady abuse of coffee. But when I leaned over his back, I could still smell the faint scent of black coffee and cinnamon and spice, the way he always smelled.

  I rested my hands on his broad shoulders. “I have an idea.”

  “God help us all.” He pulled the glove off and turned in his chair, resting his hands on my hips. “What is it?”

  “What if you use your powers of persuasion on Dani?” I asked.

  “I wish that would work,” he said. “It never lasts long. Or believe me, I’d be running up to presidents and dictators all over the world. ‘Excuse me sir, have you ever thought about world peace?’”

  I cocked my head to one side. “Do you worry about world peace?”

  “Focus.” He turned back to his book. “I did find a spell that I thought might help. It’s supposed to clear the mind of a supernatural lie, either created by a demon or by a witch’s magic.”

  “Does it matter which?”

  “Unfortunately, yeah, it does.” He propped his high-boned cheek on one hand, leaning back over the text. I wrapped my arms around his chest, resting my chin on his shoulder so I could see too, but the Latin words were nothing but tadpoles and squiggles to me.

  Jacob rubbed his hand across my arm absently as he stared at the text. “I’ve been wracking my brain trying to think about the day we lost Nim. So much happened so fast. Is there any way a witch could have cast that spell? Nim’s parents would have destroyed him and his relationship with Dani if they could.”

  “But they were both dead by the time we got out of the house.” Remembering their smiling, pleasant faces seconds before they tried to kill their own children still made a chill run down my spine. “What if we asked Maria?”

  The witch who was Nim’s old friend always kept tabs on his family, knowing they were dangerous.

  “I don’t trust her either,” Jacob said.

  I nodded, but said, “I met her, and it felt to me lik
e she really cared about Nim.”

  Jacob didn’t say anything. I poked my chin into his shoulder a little bit, looking for a soft spot. He wiggled his shoulders faintly, but continued to stroke my arm.

  “After all, she also considered killing Nim at one point,” I said. “When she found out what he was.”

  “We should start a club,” Jacob murmured. “You have a pointy little chin, you know that?”

  He took my wrist and gently tugged me around, pulling me onto his lap. I settled onto one of his muscular thighs as he pushed his chair back from the table.

  Ryker came in then, freshly showered, his hair still wet. His black t-shirt was fitted to his broad shoulders and tapered waist, and his dark jeans fit him well.

  “Hey,” Ryker said, pulling out the chair next to Jacob. He nodded at the text. “What’ve we got?”

  Ryker seemed nonplussed about me cuddling with Jacob. I swiveled on Jake’s lap so I could prop my feet up on Ryker’s thigh.

  Ryker glanced over at me, his eyebrow quirked up. “You seem to have mistaken me for a foot-rubbing service.”

  I wriggled my toes against his denim-clad thigh. “I’m not saying it’s a competition or anything. But Levi gives a great foot-rub.”

  “You have hairy toes.” He playfully pulled on my big toe.

  “You like my feet.” I leaned forward to examine them. He wasn’t wrong, although they weren’t exactly hairy. A few wayward hairs don’t make for hairy.

  “I can’t shave my toes, you guys never leave me alone in the shower.” I said.

  “We all know your toes are hairy, it doesn’t make a difference if we know you shave them.” Ryker gave in and began to rub the balls of my feet, his strong thumbs satisfying, and I heaved a sigh. Even if he was criticizing the state of my digits.

  “Anyway,” Jacob said. “Back in the real world, where we’re intent on rescuing Nimshi from Hell and getting the witch out of our basement…”

  “Right.” Ryker’s powerful thumbs pushed into my insole.

  I’d never known foot rubs could be so erotic before I met these boys, but my back arched slightly at his touch. Jacob quickly put his arm around my lower back, holding me securely on his lap. Jacob raised an eyebrow at me.