Grave Signs (Hellgate Guardians Book 4)

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Grave Signs (Hellgate Guardians Book 4) Page 32

by Ivy Asher


  “You’re dazzling,” he says, and I might’ve teased him for it if it weren’t for the fact that he’s so serious and completely aroused.

  As if he can’t help himself, he comes forward and brushes my long hair off my front, his eyes burning into my chest. “Fuck, you’re going to completely and utterly own me.”

  This time I do laugh, but it’s not with mockery, it’s with pure, uninhibited happiness. “Care to join me?” I ask him, and then I turn and slip my panties off, all too aware that he’s watching.

  With slightly shaky knees, I manage to walk up the short steps and then drop into the tub. The water is perfection, and I moan before dipping all the way under, letting the heat lick against my limbs. As soon as I come back up, I wipe the water from my face and push my wet hair back. Lifting my watery lashes, I look up and find Ire completely naked, and his cock is completely erect.

  Holy hell, he’s sinful.

  My heart skids to a stop as my clit stands up and halts everything, like it’s demanding my entire body pay attention. My gaze zeroes in on the piercings on his body: two barbells through each nipple and then more down his dick. He has a frenum piercing, the barbell placed directly beneath the head, and then more barbells that make a line down his shaft. There’s another piercing at the base of his cock, snuggled cozily in his pubic hair, and my clit practically puts on a cheerleading outfit, grabs her pom-poms, and shouts hell, yeah!

  My pussy clenches like it’s already trying to imagine the delicious friction and all the places those piercings are going to touch while he moves in and out of me. With a knowing smirk, Ire steps into the tub with me, his eyes never leaving me as I continue to drink him in.

  With skin a few shades darker than mine, he has a strong body that gloats of the years that he must’ve spent training for Wrath’s army. He’s all defined muscles and honed strength, and I find my favorite letter of the alphabet right below his belly button, showing the way from perfect abs right down to his perfect, pierced cock.

  “Thank the Morningstar,” I murmur, and Ire tips his head back and laughs, the noise bouncing off the black tile walls.

  I immediately blush at my blurted words, but he gets in the water and dunks himself under. He comes up still smiling, but I’m still watching the water, suddenly wondering how long it’ll take for all these bubbles to pop so I can see below.

  “Keep looking at me like that, Sable, and you won’t be able to get clean first,” he warns.

  My eyes jolt up, and I firmly tell myself to keep them on his face. I mean, I know we’re mates, but it’s probably not polite to stare at his cock before I’ve even learned his favorite color. Although, given the color scheme of his room, I’m going to go with black and gray.

  I shift in the tub, my thighs pressing closer together, but I know the steaming water isn’t the reason for my hot core. It’s him.

  “Here,” he says, handing me some soap set on the lip of the tub beside him.

  I take it gratefully and then look up, shyly. “Umm, you don’t happen to have a razor do you?”

  Ire chuckles but comes to the rescue as he passes over a razor, and I’m damn relieved to see that it looks like a normal human razor instead of a medieval kind of thing that could slice a jugular.

  “Thanks,” I say, taking it, and then he and I both get to work scrubbing the blood and ash and death from our skin and hair, while I also quickly shave myself smooth, and then I finally relax while Ire drains and refills the tub with clean water, more bubbles filling in.

  As soon as I lean back with a happy hum, Ire reaches under the water and takes my feet. He starts wordlessly rubbing them, massaging his way up my calves, and I have to hold back all sorts of embarrassing noises I want to make as his strong, sure hands work out every tender muscle, turning me into putty.

  “Come here,” he says, and my eyes flutter open at his smooth, low voice.

  Sitting up, I let him pull me toward him, my body cutting through the water and making some of it splash over the edge. His hands move up to grip my hips, and then he brings me over his thighs, my legs straddling his lap. “Is this okay?” he asks, his eyes flicking between mine to gauge my reaction.

  “More than okay,” I assure him, nearly breathless with nervous desire.

  I lift a finger and gently trace over his face, going over the handsome edges of him before I let the pad of my finger smooth over his scars. “How did you get these? I thought demons healed too fast for scars.”

  “We do, usually,” he says.

  His lips come down to mine, and he kisses me languidly, his hands moving up and down my sides. “I want to feel you,” he says before pulling my bottom lip and nibbling it between his teeth.

  “I want to pleasure you,” he says in my mind, instantly making this moment between us even more intimate as he touches my body and connects our thoughts. “I want to feel you tense up and then relax completely in my hands. I want to make you come undone. I want to seal our bond.”

  My pulse thunders, and he doesn’t hesitate to place his lips there at my neck, sucking on the place that betrays my rapidly beating heart.

  “May I?” he asks out loud, his nose skimming over the curve just behind my ear. But I know he’s not pressuring me. There’s no arrogance or demand in his tone. If I told him no, he’d let me go right now and move at a slower pace.

  But if I’ve learned anything in Hell, it’s that time is of the essence, and I don’t plan on wasting a single second of it.

  “Yes, please,” I reply, and I feel his smile against my skin for a split second before one of his hands dips down to clasp my thigh.

  I forget how to breathe as he lifts my leg and tugs it out further, spreading me across his lap. I might be a little embarrassed at how wide I am if I weren’t so turned on.

  “You don’t ever need to be embarrassed with your mates,” he says, like he really is inside my head.

  “Okay,” I reply shakily as his fingers begin to slowly inch their way up my thigh. His other hand holds my hip firmly, while his mouth comes down to kiss over the curve of my breasts.

  “So soft,” he murmurs as his palm skims up, up, up my leg, making me coil with intense need.

  “Still okay?” he asks.

  “Just touch me already,” I snap impatiently, because I can’t wait any longer, or I’ll have to drop my hand there and take care of things myself.

  Ire lets out a surprised chuckle. “There’s my Snarls.”

  And then his hand is right there.

  A garbled noise gets stuck in my throat, and my head falls back, my hair tickling my wings. His fingers slowly spread my lips, feeling even in the water that my body has eagerly been responding to the lust he’s called out of me.

  “You were glorious on the battlefield,” he tells me, his voice like a cadence of velvet. “So strong,” he says as his finger teases my entrance, slipping just a little inside and making me clench, like I want to hold him there, force him deeper. “So brave,” he goes on, inching in a little bit further.

  Greedy and impatient, I rock my hips forward, forcing his finger deeper, and he groans as I get another blessed inch. “Shit, you’re going to feel so good when my cock is buried inside of you.”

  “Then do it,” I blurt, picking my head up and looking at him.

  He blinks at me, hands freezing, like I’ve just shocked him. “Sable…”

  I shake my head. “No, I don’t want to wait, Ire. I know you were just offering to take care of me, and I know this is really, really new, but I want it. I want you. I don’t want to wait.”

  He continues to stare at me, a single finger still buried inside of me, his eyes scanning my expression and his mind brushing against mine. “You really want this?” he asks.

  To answer him, I show him all the dirty thoughts that I’ve been holding back, every single promiscuous image flashing in my mind’s eye. Me sliding my hand over his hard length, me taking him in my mouth, me running my tongue over his abs, and me lying back with hair and
wings splayed as he braces himself above while he sinks into me.

  Ire groans heavily, his hand on my hip pinching into my skin with a delicious bite. “Fuck, Sable.”

  “Yes, exactly. Now we’re on the same page,” I tell him breathlessly, and then I show him exactly how much I want this, how serious I am about not wasting a moment as I reach down and grip his cock without hesitation, finally feeling those piercings that I’ve been imagining since he got in the tub.

  His entire body jolts beneath mine so hard that I go flying back, my wings and back hitting the water before Ire can right me. “Fuck, I’m sorry!” he says as he grabs me by the waist and hauls me up again, but I’m laughing so hard that I can’t tell him it’s okay.

  He chuckles and starts nipping at my lips. “Your impatience caught me off guard,” he says with amusement. “Now I’ll know to be ready for you next time.”

  “Good,” I say through a smile, and then my fingers flick at the piercing below the head of his dick, and he makes a tempting noise deep in his throat. He brings his fingers down to my aching clit, and our mirth immediately morphs into desire. I drag my body closer to his, needing to press my naked breasts against his chest.

  “I want you,” I say as I slowly begin to stroke my fingers over him.

  “I fucking need you,” he replies, and then his hands lift me up effortlessly, and I line him up with my center.

  Slowly, Ire lowers me down. Inch. By. Inch.

  I feel everything. Every single piercing and hard inch of him. My mouth forms an O, my mind incapable of anything other than focusing on the feel of him entering me.

  The piercings hit me, rubbing my insides in wicked, precise ridges that are absolutely ribbed for my pleasure. I squirm in his arms because it’s so much, it’s too much; I’m stretched and aching as he continues to lower me onto him, and every inch fills me with so much sensation that it’s making me shake all over.

  “Take me, Sable,” he says. With a hand coming up behind my neck, he presses my head against his shoulder, making my body curl against him. “Take all of me,” he orders, and then he jerks me down the last inch, and I bite into his shoulder as our pelvises meet.

  “Mm-hmm,” I mumble against him, my tongue darting out to lick the indents that my teeth left in his skin.

  “Hellfire and damnation,” he curses through gritted teeth. “You feel so fucking perfect.”

  I squeeze my inner muscles around him, and he grimaces in pure pleasure as he pulls my head back with a firm yank on my neck. “Naughty mate,” he says with reprimand. “If you keep squeezing my cock like that, I’m going to come deep inside of you.”

  “Yes,” I moan, because that’s what I want. That’s exactly what I want. I want to ride him, squeeze him, move over him as he feeds me every inch again and again.

  He must hear the silent words in my head, because Ire curses again, and then, before I can brace myself, he’s standing up and flipping me around. My stomach hits the edge of the tub, and with two hands gripping my hips, he’s pinning me in place as he enters me roughly from behind.

  I cry out with approval, the sound mixing with the water that sloshes over the tub and splashes onto the floor.

  “So. Fucking. Good,” he rasps, every word spoken with another hard thrust.

  I shove my ass back into him on his next push, forcing him deeper, chasing the high that he’s already bringing me up to.

  “You’re just perfection, aren’t you?” he asks as one hand comes up to thread through my hair. “I was intrigued by you before when you were all ragged and lost, angry at the world and promising retribution,” he says, another hand reaching around to pinch and squeeze and rub my clit.

  “Keep…keep touching me…” I beg.

  “And then I sensed you in the ballroom, sensed your anger, your desire,” he goes on, rubbing me harder now, his fingers somehow knowing exactly how I want to be touched. “Then I didn’t think I could ever be as impressed as I was when I saw you cutting down demons with a bloodlust that rivals my own,” he says, swiveling his hips and hitting a spot with his piercings that makes me cry out in wanton abandon.

  He comes down, open mouth against my ear, hot breath rivaling the heat of the water. “But this right here? You wet. Hot. Bent over with my cock deep inside of you? This is the fucking best thing I’ve ever experienced in my whole damn life, and I am the luckiest bastard who was ever beaconed.”

  The dirty words he’s speaking to me and the uninhibited captivation makes me feel treasured, cherished, special. Emotions whirl with my desire as he claims me in every possible way, and suddenly I need more.

  “Ire...” I call his name like a whining plea to take me there, because I’m so, so close, and I’m so desperate to reach the peak with him just like this.

  “Take it,” he orders as he braces his hands on either side of me, fingers curling over mine on the edge of the tub. “Take the pleasure you want. Use my cock and take everything.”

  Like he’s unlocked some wild, lascivious person inside of me, I start moaning and thrusting my hips, riding his dick and taking what I need just like he said.

  “Harder,” I demand, and he starts pounding into me so hard that I worry for a flash of a second that our bodies are going to bend the wall of the tub, but then my clit pulses, his fingers pressing hard and fast, and I’m gone.

  My pussy clenches around him so hard that his hips jerk, and a ragged groan tears from his throat. I see stars. Black bursts of supernovas explode in front of my eyes as the climax takes over my whole body, running through my veins and rippling over my skin.

  I pant his name before we both collapse back, but he’s careful to keep hold of my waist as he falls down onto the seat in the tub, keeping me on his lap as water sloshes out.

  For several long moments, we just pant against each other, and I’m sure that my wings are shoving all up in his face, but he doesn’t complain. Finally, when it feels like I’m capable of speech again, I turn on his lap, sitting sideways.

  “That was…”

  “Infuckingcredible,” he finishes, placing a possessive kiss on my lips.

  And I smile because really, I couldn’t have said it better myself.

  41

  Once we’re done in the tub, Ire gives me some comfortable clothes to wear. The pants are like the Hell equivalent of sweatpants, though they fit a little loose on me, and they cover my toes. He also brought me a strapless top that he helps me button up at the front.

  Both the top and bottoms are black with some red threading, and in the baggy clothing, I realize just how much weight I’ve lost from the inconsistent and paltry meals I got in the dungeon. I knew my face was thinner than it used to be, but everything has taken more of a toll on my body. I’m looking forward to getting more of my curves back and eating as much as possible.

  “Getting dressed with wings all the time is going to be a pain,” I tell him as he finishes buttoning me up while I brush through the last of the tangles in my hair. We’re in his bedroom in front of his fireplace. It was already lit when we came out of the bathroom, and the flames have nearly dried our wings and hair all the way through.

  “I’ll help you until you’re used to it,” Ire tells me, his ginger wings flaring out slightly behind him before pulling back against him. “I’ll also help you to undress as well,” he says with a smirk.

  I snort and set the black brush down on the mantel. “So generous of you.”

  He shrugs and clasps his hand on my arm to start tugging. “I think you’ll find that I can be a very generous mate. An asshole, but a generous one.”

  I laugh. “I think I can handle that.”

  Ire leads me out of the bedroom and down the hall, all the way back to the living room area, where we find Toreon and Vudu already waiting. As soon as I walk through the doorway, they both spring up from the couch in greeting.

  I blink at the formality. As I look between the two of them, it’s obvious that they’ve talked, but they’re still not altogether comfor
table here. Vudu said it would take time, and I can’t blame them. They’re in a strange place, and Ire is a stranger, and let’s be honest, I’m not that far off.

  They’ve cleaned up and changed clothes though, and I can tell that at least they feel a little bit better as far as that’s concerned. Though, just like me, it’s clear that the borrowed clothes don’t quite fit.

  Toreon is a little too tall for his dark gray pants, though the matching shirt is pretty good, the sleeves rolled up to show off his toned green forearms. It’s nice to no longer see him in chains and ragged clothing. He has an uncanny ability to become even more devastatingly handsome every time I see him. His long black hair is clean and shiny, pulled back in a low ponytail, and his jaw’s freshly shaved. He’s barefoot, which gives me a little hope that he’s at least comfortable enough to walk around without shoes. That’s got to count for something, right?

  My eyes move to Vudu, and his clothing, well, it’s a skosh past snug. What I suspect was a shirt has now been ripped into an open-chested vest. He notices my eyes taking in the frayed threads, and he shrugs his massive shoulders. “Had to rip the sleeves off,” he says, and I smile because he’s so cute right now, all hulked out in clothes that don’t fit, and I’m getting a great view of his gray muscles.

  Toreon snorts and looks over at his friend and protector. “Even with the front and the sleeves ripped, the big bastard still needed help getting the thing on with his wings,” he says with a shit-eating smirk.

  Vudu reaches over and punches him in the arm, making Toreon laugh through a groan. “Ouch. You’re supposed to fucking protect me.”

  “From others,” Vudu deadpans. “I can beat the shit out of you if I feel like it.”

  Toreon rolls his eyes as he rubs his arm, but I don’t miss the amusement in both of their faces. I’m pretty sure them giving each other shit and throwing punches is their bromance love language. Guys are weird like that.

 

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