She came up through the floor of her bedroom, Nick with her, totally in her space. The instant they formed, he grabbed her arms and backed her up until she was against the wall. His eyes were dark and angry. “Why would you choose dying over intimacy with me? Satan gave you permission. You are not going to be responsible for my death.” His grip tightened. “Do you hear me? You aren’t going to cause my death. No blame. No responsibility. It’s okay.”
Her throat tightened at the intensity on his face, and she realized he knew, like, really knew, how deeply Gabriel had affected her. “Satan lies,” she whispered. “He changes his mind. You saw him. He’s desperate over me. You won’t be safe—”
He bent his head and kissed her.
It wasn’t soft.
It wasn’t sweet.
And it sure as hell wasn’t gentle.
It was heat and emotion and light and passion—everything she wasn’t. And everything she craved with every fiber of her being. Everything she’d yearned for since she was first created and walked among humans and saw what she couldn’t have. Nick was all that, and so much more.
His mouth assaulted her, and she couldn’t stop herself from kissing him back, kisses designed to drain the soul out of another instead of kisses intended merely for physical response. His fingers dug into her upper arms, and she didn’t care.
No, she cared.
She wanted more.
His life force pressed at her, and she instinctively resisted its invasion, even as her body arched against him, her fingers found his hair and tugged on it, pulling harder than she intended, Nick groaning in response. “Let your barriers down,” he whispered into her mouth as his fingers tugged her shirt out of her jeans. “I can’t get in there by myself.”
Her head hit the wall as she dropped it back to allow him access to her throat. “If I do, I’ll never want you to leave.”
“So, I won’t.” He bit the soft skin on her throat, and she shuddered, still trying desperately to keep him out of her soul.
She smiled at his arrogance. “How are you going to manage that?”
“Same way I’m going to save my sister without killing Satan.” He lifted her arm and kissed the inside of her wrist, then licked his way down her arm.
She wriggled against him, trying to fight it. I don’t want to become dependent on him. I can’t be dependent on him. “How are you going to do that?”
“I’m still working on it.” He reached her mouth again, and she forgot about what she was going to say.
His life force pushed at her, and he began to leak through her defenses. Not much, but she felt the faintest hint of his passion, of his love or his energy deep within her, and an intense yearning rose inside her with such force that she had to wrench away from him. “Stop.”
He stopped, lifting his gaze to her eyes. “It’s your choice.”
She stared at him, and suddenly, she knew, more than anything, she wasn’t ready to give up yet. Not on her dreams to be free of Satan, not on her dreams to have her own life force. Which meant she had to do what it took. And she could feel the Terrors eating away at her, digging in, destroying her. I can do this.
Even if it meant that her life as a Rivka would be hell once she let herself be touched by Nick. Once she knew what it was like to really be alive.
But she could handle it. She had to handle it. My life is worth this. She met his gaze. “I’m in.”
He frowned. “You sound like this is a card game.”
“That’s all it can be to me. All I want is for you to give enough positive energy for me to get the Terrors reduced enough to keep me going. That’s it. Nothing more. With as minimal intrusion as possible.”
Something flickered in his eyes, but he shrugged. “As you wish.” And then he kissed her again.
Hard. Deep. Penetrating. Crushing her with his life force, heat burning from his touch everywhere their skin touched. She threw her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him, drinking in everything he was giving her.
It swirled inside her, made her feel warm and hot and—
“You’re not letting me in,” he whispered as his hands slipped under her shirt, his touch searing her skin. “Drop your shields.”
“I’m trying.” She kissed him back harder, her body stirring with things she hadn’t felt in so long. Come in, Nick. He was burning inside her, and she could feel his emotions. His lust, his worry for his sister, his desperation, and she grabbed onto it and pulled it into her heart, into her soul, where it circulated and rushed around.
God, he was alive. Throbbing with vitality. You feel so good.
“Becca, I can’t get past your barriers.”
“Yes, you are.” She couldn’t stop the moan as his hands flicked over her nipples. “I can feel you inside me.”
“I’m there, but I’m not a part of you. I have to be part of you to get the Terrors subdued. They have to think my light is you.” His hips pressed against hers, and she wiggled against him, against the part of him that was so hard.
She felt his renewed thrust at her senses, and she tried to open herself to him, to bring him inside, but she could feel what he meant. He was inside her, he was light, and he was energy, but they were still two separate beings. “I can’t give up myself,” she whispered. “I don’t know how.” And I’m scared to.
He growled with frustration, then scooped her up against him, spun around, and tossed her on the bed. She’d barely landed when he was on top of her, tugging her shirt up, his hands covering her body like he couldn’t get enough of her. “Stop thinking. Just let go.”
“I always think. It keeps me alive.” She jerked when his mouth closed over her nipple through the sports bra that Yasmine had given her.
“Not this time. This time, thinking will kill you.” He bit gently, and she twisted under him, and then he bit harder, rubbing his teeth over the sensitive tip. “You’ve got to let your defenses down.”
She scrunched her eyes shut and concentrated on the feel of his body against hers. On his skin, on his touch, on the feel of his kisses on her body. She opened her eyes when she heard him groan with aggravation. “What?”
“You.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “You’ve got to relax.”
“How? You’re asking me to do something I don’t do.”
He rolled off her and propped his head up on his elbow so he could look down at her. “You have to trust me.”
She eyed him. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re keeping me out because you don’t trust what I’ll do when I get in there.” He laid his palm over her heart, and she felt the pulse of his energy. “This isn’t about sex, Becca. This is about the mating of our spirits and our souls.”
She swallowed hard. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
She shook her head and sat up, tugging her shirt back down over her breasts. “No, I’m not made that way. I’ve spent my entire life learning how to keep my emotions out, learning how not to care about anyone. Learning not to trust anyone. Doing everything possible to create and maintain my independence.” She looked at him, willing him to understand. “I had to find a way to protect myself, and I can’t drop it like that.”
“You cared about Gabriel. I still feel his presence inside you, so I know you let him in.”
She hugged her knees to her chest tightly, protecting herself. “It destroyed me.”
“No, it didn’t.” He trailed his fingers through her hair. “It made you stronger. It made you cautious. But you still have that ability to care inside you.” His fingers massaged her scalp, and she closed her eyes to enjoy the sensation. “I felt that spark of life inside you. I know it’s there.”
She rested her chin on her knees as he continued to touch her. “I don’t want to have those kinds of feelings.”
“Yes, you do.”
She didn’t answer. How could she? He was right. And he was wrong. But dammit, she didn’t want to die from some stupid Terrors. Why couldn’t she le
t go? She lifted her chin. “Let’s try again. I’m sure I can make myself do it.”
Nick sat up, pulled his shirt over his head, and the womanly side of her trembled at the sight of his muscular chest. “Give me your hand.”
She released her legs and put her hand in his. He cupped it softly, and she felt a tremor of his energy. But he wasn’t pushing it at her. It simply was. He laid her palm on his chest. “What do you feel?”
She couldn’t help but smile. “A hard male body.”
He made a noise of disgust, the twinkle in his eyes belying his irritation. “You women. All you can think about is sex.”
“When I’m in bed with a gorgeous guy like you, yeah.” She felt a little more relaxed at the exchange. “What can I say? I’m a slut.”
“I can tell.” He tapped his fingers on the back of her hand, which was still on his chest. “Close your eyes and lie back.”
She shivered with anticipation and did as he said. “Now what?”
“Stop talking.”
“You’re so demanding. How do women put up with you?”
“They don’t. They all kick me out of their lives within a week or two.” He scooted up against her so his body was pressed against hers along the length of hers, then pulled back, as if he’d changed his mind. Before she could register her disappointment, he said, “Sit up.”
“Up, down, you’re so indecisive.” She sat up, and then she caught her breath when he pulled her shirt over her head and tugged off her sports bra. Then he was straddling her, unzipping her jeans and sliding them down over her legs, with a slow deliberateness that had her wanting to jump up and throw him down. “No foreplay?”
He just gave her a smile that had her belly curl as he stood up and shucked his jeans and boxers. And then he laid back down next to her, pressing his body against hers like he had before, only this time, it was skin to skin from chest to ankle. He draped his leg over hers, entwining them together.
She squirmed against him, drinking in the sensation of a man wrapped around her, of his sex hard against her hip. Everywhere their skin touched, she felt alive. It wasn’t just sex, it was life. And he wasn’t just a man. Nick. The touch of his skin was wild, hot, overwhelming, addicting, and it made her want more. So much more. She reached for him, to pull him down toward her, but he didn’t let her.
He didn’t kiss her. Didn’t caress her. He simply picked up her hand and placed it on his chest. “Now close your eyes.”
She did, expecting him to touch her.
But all he did was hold her hand over his heart. “Tell me what you know about me.”
She frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Go inside me and tell me what you see.”
“Oh. You mean like you do to me.”
“Yeah. I’m open to you. All you have to do is go in. I promise I won’t return the favor.”
She hesitated, but the curiosity was too great, and she ever so carefully let herself drift into his body. Like he’d promised, she slid right in, and she was awash in the rumbling emotions that were Nick. It was far more intense than what she’d felt when he was pushing himself into her, and the intensity of it almost made her cry out.
“Tell me what you feel.” His voice was a soft caress over her skin that made goosebumps pop up, his skin scorching hers along the length of their naked bodies.
“I can’t tell. There’s…so much.” She opened herself more to him, sifting through all the heat and passion inside him. “Love. You’re like this big love machine.”
She felt his smile. “For who?”
“Dani. Your mom. Jerome.” She blinked at the sudden pressure around her own heart. “I can’t believe how intense that is. Doesn’t that scare you?” God, he was so intense. His love was so pure, so automatic, so unconditional. To have someone feel like that about her…she shook her head. You will never have that.
“Loving that intensely is what keeps me alive.”
She felt the truth of his answer and suddenly knew, deep down in her soul, she wanted him to love her like that. To stand behind her no matter what. Nick would always be there for her. Always. God, Becca. What are you thinking?
“What else?” he asked.
She tried to shake herself from the love pulsing at her, and she reached further into his essence and found something darker. “Your dad. You miss him. So much.” She wanted to hold on to that pain, and she pulled it into her own heart. Because it was familiar. Comfortable. Something she knew. She tucked it in her body, comforted by it. “What happened to him?”
“He died.” His voice was gruff, laced with pain. “What else do you see?”
She caught a hint of anger, and she followed it. “You’re pissed at Jerome.”
His body tensed and the air around him grew warmer. “He slept with my sister. I have to wring his neck.”
She smiled. “You saved him.”
“So I could wring his neck. What about Paige?”
She frowned, searching deeper for the fainter emotions. His life force was pulsing under her touch, and she rolled into her side so she could press the front of her body against his, needing more surface area to reach him. She opened her senses, searching for Paige. “You like her.” She was surprised, and warmed. “You’re worried about her.” She felt a flicker of her own distress for Paige, fighting the busload of assassins, and her trepidation merged with Nick’s and they became one.
“She’s a sweet kid. No match for being Satan’s Rivka.” He released her hand and rested his hand on her hip, his thumb circling against the skin.
She felt the press of his lips to her shoulder, and she wriggled against him.
“Keep searching. Find out my secrets. Ignore what I’m doing.” He gently pushed her on her back and kissed her on the mouth, his tongue brushing over her lips ever so softly. “Surely I have more to tell.”
She arched under him as his chest hair tickled her nipples, as his thigh slid between hers. “You’re an angry, bitter man.”
He slid his hand along her thigh, trailing kisses down the side of her neck. “Yeah, so?”
She caught her breath as a searing fire flowed over her. “You hate the Council for killing your dad.” His rage slammed into her, and she gasped at its intensity, writhing under it, seeking to mingle it with her own anger over her own life. “You hate the life he left you.”
“He forbade me to take revenge.” His hands moved more restlessly over her body, and his thumb slid over the sensitive part between her legs, sending heat spiraling through her, mingling with the rage and anger boiling inside him. “I have to live every day unable to right the wrong that stole my dad and my life.”
She felt his anger at his lack of control over his destiny, and recognition flared deep inside her. “I know,” she whispered, as she was vaguely aware of his fingers slipping inside her, of his lips taking possession of her mouth. You hate not being able to control your life.
As do you. His response was silent, but she knew what he said. She could feel him deep inside her. We are the same, Becca.
His touch was everywhere on her body, awareness vibrating between them.
You’re so alive. She clutched at him, kissed him, tried to draw him into her, closer, desperate to have him under her skin in all ways. I need you.
I need you, too, gorgeous. And then his body was over hers, his skin sliding along hers, and she could feel his pain, his anger, his love for his family everywhere they touched. His love was so bright, so intense, hurting inside her at the same time, she could feel it trying to fill her up, to dive into every corner of her being.
Tears blinked at the corners of her eyes, and she tried to regain control of herself. No…I don’t want to feel it. I need—
And then he thrust into her, and her body screamed for him, for the heat, for the pure love he was driving into her body at every level of her being.
His voice whispered through her mind. Embrace the light, Becca. Be alive.
His love, his passion for lif
e, the brightness of his spirit was too much and it slammed into her, overwhelming her, and she gave herself into it. Drank it greedily into her soul as she welcomed him into her body. He drove into her, into her being, into her body, and she screamed for more, even as she felt like more would rip her apart. I don’t care.
She reached for him, felt him answer, and wrapped her soul around his, and he did the same as their bodies reached the crescendo, mixing love and anger and raw, potent sex. And light. It exploded inside her, around her, and she screamed. Nick’s hoarse shout echoed hers, and they clung to each other as the tremors racked their bodies and their souls and their energies. Everywhere they connected, on every level they were one.
Twenty
Becca felt the first press of tears as soon as Nick withdrew and rolled off her, even though he pulled her into the curve of his body and wrapped his limbs around her, holding her tight against him. Dammit. She missed him already. Missed his life force, missed the intimacy, missed how alive she felt when she was one with him.
“What’s with the tears?” He kissed her forehead, and she knew he could feel her grief without having to look at her face or see her expression.
She knew, because she could still feel every emotion rolling around inside him. It was like they were connected in a way they hadn’t been before. But at the same time, there was a gaping gulf between them. She could still feel his spirit, but it wasn’t a part of her anymore. Inside, she was empty, more empty than she’d ever been before, and she felt so lost it was almost overwhelming.
She pressed her face into his chest and breathed in the scent that was him. “I can’t feel the Terrors anymore.”
“Good.” He stroked her hair. “So then, what’s wrong?”
“Can’t you tell?”
He was quiet for a moment, and she felt him reach inside her through wherever their bodies were touching. She was too tired to block him, and besides, what was the point? He’d been to her most intimate places already. There was nowhere left to hide. Nothing left to conceal.
She was raw, exposed and vulnerable.
But she realized it was okay. Nick would never take advantage of her vulnerability. She knew it as surely as she’d felt his grief about his father. He might know her in a way no one else did, but she’d been inside him just as far.
He Loves Me, He Loves Me Hot Page 20