by S Lawrence
Before I can change my mind, I stand and scoop her up in my arms and carry her back to my bedroom. Placing her gently down, I slide the covers over and then back her up until her legs bump the edge of the mattress. She looks up and smiles the tiniest bit before letting herself sit. She lets me lift her feet and swing her legs up, placing them under the covers.
Laying back, she curls on her side and then pats the mattress in front of her. I raise a brow and she repeats the motion. I can’t help but think of earlier before that idiot, Arkyn, interrupted.
“Dagen, you’re thinking way too hard about this. I just don’t want to be alone.” She looks so damn sad.
“I don’t want to do anything to pressure you.” She snorts, actually snorts.
“I was on that couch too, Dagen. I don’t think you’re pressuring me. Now get in the bed. I’m tired and sad and I just want you to hold me while I fall asleep.” Her eyes shine with a hint of unshed tears.
They spur me into motion. Grabbing the bottom of my shirt, I jerk it over my head and just as my head pops free, I lock eyes with her, suddenly worried that maybe I should have kept it on. Her pupils are huge as she blinks slowly, and I fight a grin. Hell, I want to howl at the lust that is bleeding from those storm clouds.
Sleep. I repeat the word like a mantra as I drop the shirt on the floor. I stop as I reach for the waist of my jeans. Shit, I usually sleep in nothing. Her eyes are glued to my hand at my waist until they finally bounce back up to my face. I swallow.
“Just a minute. Let me grab some sweats.” She draws her bottom lip in as she nods her head.
“Sweats are a great idea.” Her head keeps nodding as I dig in my drawer and pull out a loose pair of dark grey pants. I can feel her eyes on me as I make my way around the bed to the bathroom.
Closing the door, I lean back against it for a minute. Nothing in Hell is going to compare to this night. Shaking my head, I strip off my jeans and quickly jerk the sweats on before crossing to the sink. I lean on the counter for a minute, just staring at myself in the mirror trying to gain control. Trying but failing. Finally I give up and turn, opening the door. Time for the torture to begin.
She is waiting when I return, her muscles tense, and I imagine she has had some of the same thoughts. That makes me want to laugh because we are just torturing ourselves really.
So I join her and lay stiffly in the bed until she giggles as she turns and throws her leg over me, snuggling in against my side.
“I never stay with anyone.” She grows quiet after the admission. “I’d never lived with anyone until here. Cherry and Connor wore me down. I was terrified the people hunting me would find me there.”
“They won’t find you here,” I promise.
“I’ve never slept with anyone.” That admission gives me pause. “I mean I’ve had sex.” She rushes on.
I suppose that makes me feel better. I’m not one of those males that thinks women should be virgins until marriage while men go out and fuck as much as they want. The whole idea of that has always seemed idiotic to me. I mean, who were the women they were sleeping with anyway? Married or widows seemed unlikely.
“I just mean I’ve never actually slept with someone.” I run my hand over her hair, catching some of the blue strands between my fingers.
“Charlie. Just relax.” I feel her grin against my chest and I realize maybe she was trying to get me to do just that.
She hums softly and I find myself fading fast, and sooner than I’d like to admit, sleep pulls me under. The soft sound of a beautifully haunting song is the last thing I hear.
I wake some time later, and she is curled against me like a cat, almost in a ball. It is a strange sensation, her head on my chest and knees against my side. I realize even her arms are curled around her own legs, holding them tight as if she is trying even in her sleep to make herself as small as possible. Hiding.
Something deep inside my soul shatters and yet is reformed as her face shifts, rubbing against me, burrowing to seek comfort. I don’t want to wake her but I must have her closer. It isn’t a want; it is a need. Like breathing. I, as gently as possible, lift and pull at the same time, placing her on me. I’m amazed that she fits.
Having rotated her body as I did it so that her head is now at the curve of my neck, I feel her breath there. I keep my arms around her, letting the heat of her soak into me.
I once read that the hottest stars in the universe appear blue in color and are one hundred times hotter than the sun. Smiling, I look over at the blue strands of her hair. It makes total sense to me.
She is the fire to my ice.
Shivering, she stretches out, her hand reaching for something before she starts to blink slowly. I know the moment she understands where she is.
“Hey.” She smiles as she tilts her head back some.
“Hey, beautiful.”
“Sorry, did I climb on you in my sleep?” She shivers again.
“No.” Her eyebrows raise. “I moved you over. I wanted to have you closer.”
A silent o forms then she raises up some so she can look down at me. “You’ve chilled me.” I drag a blanket over us.
“You’ve heated me.” Her fingers skate over my chest. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to heat me more.”
She laughs. It’s a loud laugh, and I can’t help but join her. At some point, we both let them die away.
“Lillian, well, Torryn told me how she got her wings.” I nod.
“I bet he did.” She giggles again. “You want wings, Charlie?” She sobers instantly.
Chapter 21
CHARLIE
Well, damn. Do I want wings? Do I want wings? Fuck me. He just up and asked me. I mean, yeah, I don’t know if I want wings or not but I know for sure I want him.
I don’t know what to say. I know what I want to say.
I look down at his face, and he’s just watching me. Waiting. I decide in that moment to fight, for what I want and for this world. For him. For what might be.
Instead of saying anything at all, I just shift my body, stretching my legs out over his and brace my forearms on his chest, trying my best not to dig my elbows into him.
He stays still, waiting, but I feel his breath catch in his chest and I like the sudden rush of power that gives me.
I want to draw his full bottom lip into my mouth and run my tongue over it before kissing him until I steal that held breath from him but I lower my mouth to his chest first.
I’m intent on the tattoo I noticed when he pulled his shirt over his head last night. It is of a unicorn, which seems both odd and somehow sexy. I trace over it with my tongue and fight a grin when his hands suddenly grip my hips, his fingers digging into my ass.
“Are you sure, sweetheart?” His voice is begging me to say yes.
I think I was sure that first moment in his arms when he held me safe and I kissed his neck, feeling the coolness under my lips.
If I think back to that exact moment, I could hear his song that night, and even in that drunken stupor, it soothed something deep within me. Raising my head, I look him in the eyes.
“I’m so sure, Dagen.” That breath finally releases, and I’m amazed at how long he had held it. “I’ve chosen.”
“You’ve chosen what?” He asks, the silly man.
“You.” The word has barely left my lips when he crashes into them.
He steals my breath and a piece of my heart with the kiss, deepening it while he drags my body up higher on him. I will worry about my tendencies to run later and for now, I will lose myself in him. His hands begin to roam over me, and I hate my clothes. I hate the shirt and tiny shorts I had pulled on earlier.
I hate to break away from his lips but I make myself so that I can get rid of my offensive clothes. He growls as I start to pull away but he quiets as I straighten over him.
I smile down at him and grab the hem of my shirt, beginning to pull it up slowly. I have that moment of worry every woman has — will he like what he sees?
> I’m not large. What if he likes big boobs? I look more like a teenage girl or boy. My movement slows even more, then his hands join mine. I look at his face, and there what I see blasts away all my fears. Lust. Hunger. Naked desire.
He finishes pulling the t-shirt over my head, and I drop my hands to my side, fighting the urge to cover myself.
“You’re perfect.” Sweet, sexy man. “Just perfect for me.” His hand slides around the back of my neck and grips my nape, pulling and holding me steady as he rises up to captures my mouth.
It is an assault on my senses. His scent wraps around me, his hand glides over my exposed skin, and his tongue delves deep into the warmth of my mouth. He devours me.
Deep in my head, I hear his song and for the first time, I hear another. I realize it’s my own and I feel tears in my eyes at how beautifully they are blending together. Blinking to hide them from him, I focus on the taste of him.
I really have to wonder about that whole destiny thing for a moment as just a hint of cool mint mixes with chocolate on my tongue. He smelled like chocolate. I knew that already, but could he really taste like it too? It’d be like wicked dessert every time. Fat free dessert. No guilt. Eat-as-much-as-I-want dessert. I love mint chocolate anything. The thought unleashes a hunger I didn’t know I had for something I don’t understand but I don’t hesitate.
I break away from his mouth and look at his face. His eyes widen before his lids droop slightly, and he licks the moisture off his lips. I see a flash of red in his dark eyes, and instead of being scared, it makes my core tighten.
“What do you want?” He pauses, “Thea.” The sound of my real name in his desire soaked voice pushes me over the edge.
“I want everything you have to give me.” His fingers flex on my ass and red flashes. “Everything.”
If I thought he was devouring me before, I was wrong. He jerks me forward, dragging my center over his very hard and impressively wide erection. I can’t help but rotate my hips a little as he does, which earns me a rumbling growl from him as his mouth descends to my breasts.
I hold my breath as he draws my nipple into his mouth, once again surprised by the coolness. His palm slides up and covers the other before his fingers begin to roll the peak between them. He is neither rough nor gentle but skates the edge. It’s pleasure that hints at pain.
He licks and bites at the other before moving up. He stops, stops kissing, stops his hand, and I try to catch my breath as I look at him.
My hips roll. They have a mind of their own. I shrug, smiling at him.
“You’re like the heat of Hell.” Umm, hmm, I’m not sure how to feel about that.
“Is that good?”
“So good.” His smile is the most wicked thing I’ve ever seen and it has juices soaking my panties. Damn. My heart pounds. “I always feel cold, but you heat me.”
Sweet fucking man. Here I am thinking about how I can’t wait to feel his coolness everywhere, and he wants my heat. Perfect.
Grabbing his face, I kiss him hard and fast before I stand up over him on the bed. I’ve never felt so needy, and yet it’s so much more with him. I know this will change everything; it’s going to change me.
“Take off your pants,” I tell him even as I start to pull off my shorts and panties that are embarrassingly wet. But that’s just it - there is no embarrassment. There is nothing but desire to make this man mine.
I move to the edge of the bed and I kick them away. When I turn back, I find him standing totally naked and damn. We stand frozen for a few seconds, and then something snaps and he comes at me like the demon he is.
“So fucking beautiful.” I smile at his words as he practically tackles me on the bed.
His mouth is at my breast as his hands slide up my arms, stretching them high over my head. He transfers both wrists to one hand then begins to explore my body with the other.
“Dagen.” His eyes roll up to mine. “I want to touch you.”
“Not yet. I want to bathe in your heat. Devour it. Feast on it.” Fuck. What can I say to that? “Keep your hands there. Please.”
I nod. I can’t even speak as he pinches my nipple hard to punctuate the please, sending a bolt of pleasure straight to my clit.
He replaces his fingers with his mouth, sucking and biting at my small breasts until they feel heavy with need. His head raises and his eyes travel over my body, making my stomach flutter and my hips arch. A silent offer or begging, depending on how you want to look at it.
Sitting back, he looks at my core, and I feel it weeping with juices. His long finger reaches out and slides from the bottom to the top. I stifle a moan when he brings it to his lips. He draws it into his mouth, his gaze coming back to mine as he licks my very essence from it.
My chest rises and falls faster as he scoots back and braces his hands inside my thighs on the bed. Sliding his hand out, he forces my legs open even wider. Then in a blink of an eye, his cool breath blows over me and he is spearing me with his cold tongue.
It is just as I imagined, shocking against my heat. I’m lost in the sensation of him feasting on me. He teases with his tongue, swiping up and focusing on that hooded bundle of nerves. I’m so riveted to pressure there I’m shocked when he thrusts two fingers into me.
Just that thrust sends me close to an orgasm.
But he has other plans and backs off a bit, letting the build up ease. Just when I catch my breath, he starts all over again. I fight to focus on him there between my legs and when I finally can, I see his hand stroking over his hardness.
“Now. Dagen, I need you in me now,” I demand.
He rolls his eyes up and locks them on me, and his tongue comes out and strokes over me from bottom to top. His lips and chin are coated with my juices when he starts to crawl up my body.
His hand still strokes, and I reach for him, replacing his with mine. He positions himself at my entrance but waits as I rub over his hard length. Pulling my hand away, I flex my hips up and take him in. He thrusts in deep as I push up, and I sigh as he is finally fully seated in me, stretching me.
He pulls out only a small amount and then thrusts back hard. I gasp in both pleasure and pain. He repeats the movement over and over, driving me closer and closer to the edge of release.
Suddenly, he rolls and I’m on top. I roll my hips, making a circle as he thrusts up. His hands find my breasts, and he kneads and squeezes until one hand drops to my hip. It digs in and holds me still for him to pound up into me. My head falls back as my orgasm breaks over me.
I see the universe and stars shoot across my field of vision.
“Charlie.” He growls my name as I feel him reach completion, pumping hot jets into me. I collapse on him, and he kisses me deeply, pouring everything not said into it. We lie there holding onto each other as aftershocks rock us both.
I push up, looking down at this magnificent man and wondering if this could all be true. Is it true?
I look behind me as I try to catch my breath and gather my fractured wits. Nothing. No magnificent wings. Not that the amazing, life altering orgasm isn’t enough, but I thought the wings were a given, like entrance to the club or something.
Dagen’s booming laugh draws my attention back to the gorgeous demon still inside me.
“I feel like I should be offended, woman.” He thrusts again to emphasize his words.
“Jesus, I’m so sorry.” I try to hide my face, but he grabs the sides of it and kisses me with enough passion to stir my desires back to life. I forget both my embarrassment and my disappointment.
Hours later, he holds me in his arms, finally sated. I realize I don’t need anything else. Just him. Just how he makes me feel.
I swallow hard as my heart pounds. I love this man. When did that fucking happen?
I think I started that moment in the hallway and finished sometime tonight as he held me like the most precious thing on this Earth.
Amazing. The best man I’ve ever known is a Prince of Hell, and I love him. Looking up at his f
ace relaxed in sleep, I know I’m blessed regardless of what happens in the future.
“I love you,” I whisper, smiling as I let sleep drag me under.
Chapter 22
DAGEN
I’m sweating.
What? No. I don’t sweat.
She’s sweating, a lot, like rivers. Blinking, I wipe some from my eyes. What the hell is going on? When they finally clear, I can’t believe what I’m actually seeing.
I lay staring up at her, for how long I don’t even know, frozen. Finally, I reach blindly for my phone at the side of the bed and text the only person that maybe can help.
Lucifer. He appears instantly.
“Dammit, Dagen, how many times have I told you fucking clothes?” I can tell he was about to go on a further rant but then he sees her. “What the fuck?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I texted nine one one,” I whisper yell as I drag on the sweats from last night. I hate that she’s naked up there, but I can’t exactly do anything about that.
“She’s…” He looks at me.
“I know.” I nod.
“How?” I shrug and shake my head.
“When?” Again, I shake my head.
“Shit.”
“Exactly.”
“Maybe we should wake her,” he offers.
“Yeah. Okay.” I look up at her. “How? The flames.” He looks at her. The wings extending from her back are engulfed in Heaven’s fire, beautiful blue flames. They are flapping slowly, just enough to keep her afloat, and it is a thing of beauty.
Beautiful death and destruction. The paint is bubbling on the walls, and even the King of Hell is sweating.
“Call out to her.” I nod and open my mouth. “Sweetly.”
I glare at him for a second and then open my mouth as I step closer, my own power flaring to life, trying to keep me cool but failing as sweat pours down my body.
“Thea?” I call softly. “Sweetheart.”