“I know that you would never hurt me. In the short time I’ve known you, you’ve shown yourself to be my champion. My own personal Guardian Angel.” She smiled at the enigmatic grin on his full lips.
He shook his head as he leaned closer. “Sei l’angelo, il mio bellissimo.” He slid his hand from hers and he claimed her lips, his tongue tracing the seam of her mouth. Her jaw dropped slack and his steely arm around her waist was the only reason she remained on her feet. She clung to his neck, holding on while he plundered her mouth. Lightning raced through her blood, turning her legs to rubber as heat pooled low in her gut.
She tried to ponder his words, but her brain was having nothing of it. All of her was too heavily invested in the sensations erupting from his touch. Lights sparked behind her closed lids, and she wasn’t sure if it was the magic from his kiss or lack of oxygen from the same. He slid his lips from hers and she sucked down needed air, her hungry gulps doubling as erotic sighs.
She flattened her palms against his chest and eased out of his embrace. Confusion flashed in his eyes. Empowered by her awakened desires, she reached for his hands and laced her fingers with his. A coy smile touched her lips as she scooted backward, leading him toward the massive bed. He countered with one step before sweeping her into his arms. The floor disappeared and she wrapped her arms around his neck, squeaking in surprise. His husky laugh purred along her skin and heat zinged through her.
“Did you have someplace else in mind?” He nuzzled her neck, nipping at her jumping pulse.
She shuddered in anticipation. “Yes.”
Her breathy command was followed, his strong legs carrying her easily to the beckoning sleigh bed. The soft mattress cushioned her back and she sank into the welcoming waves. She let her eyes drift closed as she reached her arms over her head, wiggling her toes that didn’t touch the footboard. She couldn’t remember the last time she was able to stretch out in a bed without knocking her knuckles into the wall.
“I think I’m in heaven.” She sighed the simple phrase, unaware of the gauntlet she had inadvertently thrown down.
“Not yet, cara mia.” His mouth descended, stealing her breathe and her reason. She clung to his shoulders, meeting his passion head on and reveling in the heat that danced along her skin. Her eyes drifted closed as he plundered her mouth, his tongue sparking fires low in her gut. He cradled her face in his large and rough hands, nibbling along her lips before licking his way to her throat.
“But very, very soon.” His voice rumbled, his hot breath sent tingles through her blood. She arched her back, digging her fingers into his steely arms as her whole body quivered with anticipation.
“I promise.”
Bastian had never considered himself to be a religious man. Even though he’d lived in the time of master artisans who created iconic images depicting God in all His divine glory, he didn’t see the reason for placing faith in some all-powerful force watching from a distant place of safety.
But as he felt the press of her soft breasts against his chest and heard the needy whimpers breathed into his ear, he was now a firm believer. There truly was a heaven on earth, and he had found it here in her embrace.
He devoured her mouth, his tongue seeking the sweetness that hid within. With each passing second, his desire to prove himself worthy of her gift grew. And that was not the only part of him growing, his painfully erect cock was knocking on the teeth of his zipper, eager to be released from its metal prison.
Her body trembled beneath him, and he caught the scent of her heady fragrance, bright summer flowers spiced with her arousal. Leaving the heat of her lips, he trailed butterfly kisses along her jaw and down the column of her throat. He let his fingers do the walking, gripping the hem of her sweater while he nibbled on the tempting creamy skin peeking above the collar’s edge.
With one swift gesture, he yanked the offending heavy knit over her head. His hunger overrode his honor, and he buried his face between her ample breasts while her arms were still trapped above. He groaned as her body writhed, her wanton sighs encouraging him to uncover more of her porcelain skin. He kept a solid grip on her hands, trapping her and holding her open for his pleasure.
Resting on one elbow, he dragged his fingers feather-light against her exposed midriff. His grin of pure enjoyment was almost as surprising to him as was the trembling of his hand. Never before had he taken his time to please any partner or even himself for that matter. Sex had only been an avenue to release the pent-up stress from battles and blood lust.
Yet here, all he wanted was to make love to his angel until neither of them could walk straight.
“Oh, God. Bastian. More, please.”
His gaze remained glued on her breasts as they strained against their lacy bindings. He traced the scalloped edges, dipping his fingertip beneath the fragile black plastic closure.
“Hmmmmm?” Fascinated by her heaving mounds of plump flesh, he leaned close to her bounty but did not take the final inch. Instead, he inhaled deeply and let the intoxicating scent of her escape in a breathy exhale against her heated skin.
She nearly bounced off the bed, crying out for release. His body snapped into action, shattering the clasp and he sucked the diamond hard nub and as much of the fleshy orb he could fit into his mouth. Forgotten was the need to tease her, and he got lost in the sensation of her enthusiastic response. He palmed the other rosy nipple as his eyes slipped shut.
Fingernails dug into his shoulders, and he growled in hungered delight. He continued to lave the fleshy mound while he slipped one hand between them to grab onto the waistband of her jeans. A groan rumbled in his chest at the rude fabric’s refusal to budge.
He pushed himself into his knees to get a better grip on her remaining clothing. With both hands a breath away from shredding the thick material, he shifted his gaze up her bare body. Her head was thrown back against the deep blue comforter and her pert auburn waves spread out in a seductive halo around her. Her eyelashes painted dark crescents onto her flushed cheeks and her breasts rose and fell with every heart-racing breath she took.
Sensing his hesitation, she raised her heavy lids and he was undone. Her sapphire eyes were midnight with the power of her desire. A sensual smile curved her kiss-swollen lips.
“Please, don’t stop on my account.”
He flexed his arms and the sound of ripping fabric filled the air, his eyes never leaving her face. She dropped her head back and laughed. The erotic sound sent any blood remaining in his brain lightning fast to his cock. He tossed the ruined pants off the side of the bed and dipped his head down, eager to sample the newly revealed skin. He dragged his mouth along her toned stomach and swirled his tongue into its delicate divot.
Her hips rose up off the bed and he graciously obliged her wants. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he kissed and licked his way down her body until he reached the sweet apex of her thighs. Desire demanded action and he answered with voracious delight, his tongue delving between her petal-soft folds.
I claim you, body and spirit.
A voice whispered in his head, repeating words he first heard centuries ago as he feasted on the sweet honey that coated his lips. Sounds took solid form above the erotic moans and cries of his angel as he teased another climax. He climbed back up the length of her quivering body, yanking, kicking and tugging off his low slung leathers in the process. He positioned his weeping cock at her welcome heat as the Claiming Ritual pressed behind his teeth.
Unbidden and powerless to resist, he gave into a drive that both comforted and terrified him to his core.
“Ti rivendico, salma e spirito.”
The world around them vanished as he stared down into her cobalt eyes. Passion painted her cheeks with a heavenly glow and the next line fell from his lips.
“Ti rivendico, cuore e anima.” I claim you, heart and soul. His heart pounded against his ribs even as he slowly slid his thick shaft into her. He intently watched her face, entranced by the play of emotions darting across h
er rosy complexion. She dug her fingers into the tense muscles of his arms and her mouth parted, releasing a needy sigh.
He needed no other encouragement. Retreating an inch, he dipped further into her tight channel. The delicious friction rose degree by degree, sweat beading on her skin and pooling between her heaving breasts.
“Mi legano la tua vita alla mia, la vostra gioia e il vostro dolore.” Your life I tie to mine, your joy and your sorrow. He mumbled the passion-drunk Italian before dragging his tongue across the tempting puddle.
Miranda wished she had spent more time learning the translations of all those Rat Pack songs rather than just the notes. Each word he spoke was filled with such reverence and power, but it was the smoky rumbling of his voice as they fell from his tongue that sent fires licking through her veins.
She arched her back as another orgasm ripped through her. Dear God, he hadn’t even completely entered her and she already lost count of times he brought her to a new peak of ecstasy. She snaked her legs around his thick thighs, digging her heels into his ass. His snail’s pace was creating more fires and she needed him.
She recalled her first request of him. Make love to me, she had asked. In her mind, those words brought up images of long, languid kisses on bearskin rugs before roaring fires with a silver ice filled bucket cradling the green bottle of bubbling champagne. But, she knew better now. Making love had nothing to do with speed. It was all about passion.
She realized she didn’t want him controlled.
She wanted him unleashed.
Responding to her urging, he drove into her. She slammed her eyes shut and opened her mouth. Her cry was swallowed by his furious kiss, his demanding tongue taking without hesitation. Her body bucked off the bed and only the deliciously male weight above her kept her grounded. Her soul was a whole other story, her spirit soaring high into the clouds as each new erotic wave caressed her.
She clung to his shoulders, meeting his passion thrust for thrust. He cupped the back of her head, tilting her mouth for a better angle and gripped her hip with his other hand, holding her firmly in place. His body was pure lethal grace, strong enough to snap her two without any effort, but his dangerous power was tempered by something mysterious. Something to do with the exotic words he continued to whisper against her damp skin.
“Vi do tutto ciò che sono, e tutto ciò che sarò.”
He broke the seal of their lips and held her close to his chest before rolling onto his back. She planted her hands against the chiseled planes of his chest. Her eyes slid open, the wicked grin across his rugged face sent chills down her arms as lightning fired her blood. He wrapped his fingers around her waist and flexed his hips. She gasped, digging her nails into the muscled marble beneath her palms.
“Prendo solo quello che si offrono liberamente.”
An unexpected softness shimmered in his burning whiskey pools, and she took control. She undulated, her back bowing as she circled her hips. She marveled at the feel of his thick shaft filling her completely. Her erotic lap dance gradually grew in intensity, sweat dripping down her back in a steady trickle. He guided and steadied her, his sure hands and hungry growls stoking the raging fire just beneath her skin. She sucked in air in short pants. Her heart raced, the final peak close enough for her see behind her closed lids.
She threw her head back as a scream tore from her lips and she came. His primal howl answered in seductive harmony, his hips held mid-thrust and he joined her. She melted in utter satisfaction, content to give the reins back to her lover. He gathered her into his arms and placed a tender kiss on her tingling lips. She was vaguely aware of some wiggling of his body and soon, a soft, cool sheet covered them.
“Sleep, tesorina.”
She wished she could come up with some witty repartee, but her mind refused to function. He truly had screwed her brains out. She couldn’t wipe the silly smile off her face as she succumbed to his simple command.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Viktor stared down the hall, his gaze following his friend’s Cro-Magnon behavior. He knew Miranda wasn’t in any danger. Bastian would rather serve up and eat his own liver before harming a hair on any female’s head, even if some deserved it. But, this one was different. She held the key to his friend’s salvation. He could only hope that his stubborn companion would do the right thing.
A groan at his back drew his attentions back to his current patient. He washed his hands of the lingering traces of Bastian’s blood. Since his Guardian status made him impervious to disease, he never bothered with gloves. Besides, the seconds it took to slip on the thin latex barriers could mean the difference between an invisible seam or a jagged scar.
“Hang on, kid. You’re all right.” He tossed the words over his shoulder as he finished drying him hands. Sounded like his patient was just as stubborn as his usual client. Frowning, he spun just in time to catch the young man before he collapsed onto the floor.
“Whoa, kid. Slow your roll.” Viktor helped him to his feet and led him back to sit on the spare table.
Blonde hair shook violently as wild blue eyes focused on him, one still nearly swollen shut. “No, you don’t understand. Time’s ticking and I gotta get Andy out of that place.”
Confusion tugged Viktor’s eyebrows together and he leaned back, arms folded across his chest. “Andy?”
The young man tried again to escape but his weak attempt was easily thwarted by one hand on his shoulder. “Miranda. She’s my sister. Sal is gonna call the contract up on her tonight if I don’t pay up.”
Viktor’s eyes hardened into ice. “Wait, what? What kind of money are we talking here?”
Kyle dropped his head into his palm, defeat bowing his back. “I made some bad bets and if I don’t pay Mr. Francciolli about fifty G’s by tonight, he’s…aw, hell. This is all my fault.”
Viktor arched an eyebrow, living a low whistle at the weighty sum. “Understatement of the year there, kid. Lucky for you, Bastian’s loaded. But don’t worry about Miranda. She’s not in any danger right now.” He glanced down the hall as he pushed himself off the wall.
The young man misread his signal and started to follow his line of sight. Viktor made a quick grab and stopped Kyle’s forward momentum. “Uh, I wouldn’t advise that, kid. They’re gonna be at it for a while.”
Again, Viktor was met by the blonde twister. He held tight to the kid’s shoulders in case the rest of his body joined in the spinning spasm. “You don’t get it. I seriously fucked up and…and now he owns her. If he even hears that some guy’s been with her, he’ll kill him for sure.”
Viktor scoffed. “Bastian ain’t an easy bastard to put down. Trust me, I tried it myself a time or two.” He pushed Kyle back until he sat once again. “Besides—Kyle, isn’t it?” A nod encouraged him to continue. “Yeah, he’s not about to let her go back there for any reason.”
More head shaking and the furrow across Viktor’s forehead deepened. “No. I, I mean Sal.” Silence lengthened as he waited for Kyle to finish his statement.
“Sal what?”
A heart-wrenching sigh rattled the kid’s ribs and Viktor locked eyes with his pain-laced gaze. “I think I signed over her soul to him.”
Viktor blinked slowly, his arms slowly unfolding as he stared incredulously at Kyle. “Come again?”
Tears of regret spilled down his purpled cheeks. “While his two goons were beating on me, they made me sign a piece of paper, only they didn’t have me use a pen. And it wasn’t a real signature. Just had to touch the paper with my thumb.”
Viktor mirrored the young man’s face palm pose of earlier. This can’t be happening. His friend had finally discovered his spiritmate only to have her soul devoured by the Rogues in a raw deal. He shook his head to search his mind for a solution.
They would have to find the contract and burn it.
The second part would be the fun part. Sal and the Rogues guarding him would have to die.
And it was starting out to be such a lovely day, Viktor mused.
He waved off the rest of Kyle’s explanation. “Look, there’s nothing we can do about it right now. It’s the middle of the night, and you have until what time to come up with the money?”
Kyle peered at nothing, his eyebrows knitting as he struggled to remember. “Uh, it was about two o’clock or so when they grabbed me.”
Viktor laughed weakly, tossing his hands up. “Gee, nothing like working under a simple deadline. Shit.” He checked his watch, quickly calculating the time left before he would have to break the news to Bastian. Groaning, he rubbed his hands across his face and turned his weary gaze to the battered face of a terribly distraught kid. He would gauge his age at no older than twenty-two, and judging from the size of the debt owed to the local mobster, he had probably been placing bets instead of taking tests.
The emotions oozing off him were laced with regret and self-recrimination. Viktor only had vague memories of his siblings, his twin sisters passing long before he’d accepted the Guardians mantle. Yet the need to protect still flowed in his veins.
Dragging a hand through his tousled hair, he sighed, looking above for some divine answer, yet only the truth he discovered was one light bulb needed to be replaced.
“Come on. I’ll show you where you can crash out.”
“But I need to tell her—”
Again, Viktor’s hand met with little resistance as he easily stopped Kyle. “I think you’d better let me handle this. Later.” He added, grumbling half to himself. “Much later.” The young man’s questioning stare bored into the side of his face and he shook his head. “Get some rest while you can, kid. I think it’s gonna be a long day.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Bastian swirled his fingertips along the damp skin on his angel’s back as he searched for answers on the popcorned ceiling overhead, his hand serving as a support pillow. The words were there, he was so caught up in the moment he didn’t realize it until the first line flowed from his tongue. Buried deep inside her welcoming heat, he was powerless to stop himself and if he were honest, he didn’t want to keep silent any longer. Just as she had said before he went all caveman, he was also tired of allowing fear and fate to dictate his life.
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