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Her Demon Prince (Forbidden Fantasy)

Page 23

by Cathleen Ross


  She noticed Agrat's gaze move over her torso, bare except for her bra. The zip of her jeans was undone and his eyes feasted on the base of her zipper as if he were wishing her jeans would vanish, too.

  "Like this." He moved his hand up and the red web of energy left his fingers, the clean bedding lifted off the bedside table and hovered over the bed.

  Phoebe watched and her jaw dropped as Agrat prepared the bed with the sheets, comforter and pillows so that it looked like a department store advertisement for bedding, by controlling the energy with his fingers. "Wow! That was fast work. I'm surprised that you even know how to put together a modern bed."

  "Do not leave evidence of sex with a different woman if you want to get laid."

  "The cop says that?"

  "It is good advice, is it not?"

  "That's gross," she said.

  "I do not understand why you are angry. The cop speaks with truth. You did not wish to lie with me in your bed when the sheets were not clean," Agrat said.

  Phoebe shook her head. Some things were not worth explaining. "It's cold in here. I'm going to turn on the heater. Why don't you warm the bed? Don't set fire to it." After she'd turned on the electric heater in her bedroom, she looked at the prince and saw that Agrat's armor was a muddle on the floor and he lay on the bed on his side, his erection enormous.

  Her heart fluttered as desire coursed through her. Even now, with death around the corner, he had the ability to move her. She reached behind her, unclipped her bra so that her breasts sprang free and threw it down. She wiggled out of her jeans sauntered over to the bed, climbed on and put her arms around him. She stared into his eyes, her heart swelling with love for him. “I know you're going to have the fight of your life. If you win, I live. If you lose, I die."

  His hands moved her hair from her face and he tucked it tenderly behind her ear. "Do not be afraid. Galaden will not have the assistance of demons in this fight. I will not let him near you again."

  "I love you and I realize now I've always loved you. Hold me. I need to feel your arms around me. It's the only time I feel safe.” She couldn’t take her eyes or hands off him. How long would they have? The danger of Galaden made her want to make every minute they had together meaningful.

  When he leaned close, she touched his face, his strong neck and the grooves along his shoulder blades. His face looked hard and intense in the streaked light from the window and his eyes seemed to gleam with unusual intensity. His chest was broad and ridged with muscles right down his six-pack. There was a faint line of crisp dark hair below his belly button, which threaded with his thick public hair. He was perfect in every detail and he was hers.

  “You are my one true love. I knew it when I saw you, your hair gleaming in the sun at the palace gates,” he said. "Your eyes lit up when you saw me. Hopeful. No one looked upon me like that, a feared demon son of the king."

  “I am yours and I always will be.” She was on fire. Her gaze wandered over Agrat’s strong body and she could barely resist the urge to press herself and slowly rub against him.

  Her hand stroked him, moving to the smooth muscles of his chest.

  His arms went around her and he pulled her in tight.

  Something about his words ignited deep passion in her chest. She was way too turned on to question whether it was right to have sex with him with Galaden close by. She needed him. She wanted to be consumed by him.

  “When this day is finished and I have defeated Galaden, I intend to make you my wife. I will build you your own palace wherever you want it and put wards on it so that you feel safe when I am not close by. Your happiness and safety is all that matters to me. I owe you that after all I have put you through.” He hugged her close. His big hands stroked over her shoulders, his fingers testing the nodules of her spine before moving his hand over her ribcage, finally coming to rest on her breast. His fingers paused to tease a nipple. As his hands moved past her waist and over her abdomen, her body tensed. She wanted him to stroke between her legs, so she parted them.

  "I don't need a palace. I just want you," she said.

  “Phoebe.” He said her name like a caress and the tendrils of his voice swirled around her brain.

  Agrat’s pupils were so large, so dark. “Remember all I am to you and all you are to me. Gift me with the strength to defeat our enemy.” He bent his head and his lips grazed hers, but he didn’t linger long on her lips. Though she was waiting for a hard kiss, he moved down to her neck, his lips grazing every hollow, ridge and curve.

  A shiver of delight made her run her hands along the ridged muscles of his back. Her excitement, mingled with adoration, was a sensation she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

  Agrat kissed her throat, then suddenly nipped the delicate area where the shoulder meets the neck.

  She squealed, rolled on her back and grabbed him behind the head, pulling his face down on hers so she could kiss him. Her tongue teased his, the tip exploring his willing mouth.

  He pulled back and rubbed his lips gently over where he had bitten her so the little tingles of pleasure followed the pain.

  “Oh,” Phoebe sighed. "I love you, love you, love you." She hadn’t expected to enjoy the dual sensation. Just the feel of his lips kissing her throat then moving downwards to her breasts made her woozy with delight and she gave herself up to him.

  His hands were hot and he had a way caressing her nipples that made the place between her legs throb. She was aching for his touch. Everywhere.

  He pulled back from her and took his penis in his hand. Leaning on one elbow, he rubbed the head of his velvety cock over her entrance and up to her clitoris.

  Phoebe groaned and thrust to meet his rhythm. “I want you. I want you so much.”

  She closed her eyes, enjoying sensation after sensation. Her clit became supersensitive as he rubbed his slick head around it. Her hips jerked. She strained and arched her back. He pressed harder this time moving his cock rapidly up and down.

  The rush that hit her when she came surprised her. He inserted his fingers into her, finding her tender place and she crunched down on him as he rubbed her clitoris with his thumb. It sent her soaring, until a groan started deep inside her, forcing its way out, the sensation of his cock and fingers exquisite. He knew exactly how to please her; could tease and play her body like it was a sensitive instrument under his fingers because he knew her so well.

  She was still groaning with the aftershock of little orgasms when Agrat covered her with his body and pressed his cock at her entrance. She could feel herself stretching around him and was glad of the slickness. When he went in deep, he pushed himself onto his arms so that he reared above her and thrust home hard. When another set of orgasms threatened to consume her, she opened her lips to cry out. He kissed her deeply, pushed his tongue inside her mouth, stifling her cries. He was in her, on her, suffocating her so that she could barely breathe, the intensity of him exhilarating.

  Making love to Agrat was like being consumed. The tension rose in her body until she climaxed. He followed her, growling in her ear, clutching her breasts and pinching her nipples hard as he came until finally slumping over her.

  Agrat moved over, but pulled her close by holding her around her waist.

  For some time she drifted in and out of sleep.

  The prince's eyes snapped open. "We cannot tarry. I can feel Galaden's intention to have revenge upon me." He rose and opened her bathroom door, washed himself and grabbed a towel to dry his body.

  She followed him, briefly showering before drying herself. Running to her wardrobe, she chose tight black jeans and a long-sleeved, simple black top, which wouldn't catch on anything. "I don't have your wrist guard with the blade," she said as she grabbed her bra off the floor and put it on. She ran to her dresser, grabbed a pair of fresh underpants and stepped into them. "Galaden took it off me."

  "I forbid you to fight." Agrat pointed his finger at his battle gear, waved his hand over his body and he was dressed. "Do not leave this room.
"

  "It is my right to be by your side," she said to him.

  "Women do not fight," he said, his voice firm, final.

  "I'm not some namby-pamby princess expecting you to save me in this lifetime. I know I'm not strong enough to defeat Galaden on my own, but we're in this together. You found the warrior in me and I'm not staying in some back room wondering what's happening."

  "You do not understand the danger you are in," he said. "Galaden can move faster than you can see. He will turn to stone if he does not kill you."

  "I had Galaden's sword at my throat. He put my best friend in a coma and nearly drained her of her life. Dammit, Agrat, I've nursed you when you've been wounded, twice. Believe me, I get it. I know he's too powerful for me. The fact is, I hate the asshole and if he gets the upper hand with you, I'm good with throwing a dagger. You saw that in Salem. I could make a difference. I'm not hiding out from him and you can't make me."

  He scowled at her, the muscles in his arms bunched and he seemed to grow bigger and menacing. "If you are hurt or die, my punishment is forever. I will not let you risk your life for me."

  Sparks flared off him, but she didn't back down.

  "You fight, Galaden, I'm going in there with you." Ignoring the concern in his expression, she flung her wardrobe door open, eyed her black boots, bent and grabbed them. They'd help deliver a strong kick if she needed to do so. Her blood was coursing so fast through her body she was ready to let loose on Galaden. Looking in the mirror, she saw a woman she barely recognized. Her face was flushed, her soft blond curls wild, but it was the gleam in her eyes she barely recognized. A look as hard as obsidian. The angel had pushed her too far. She would not let the angel kill her man. The warrior ancestor pumped in her blood, giving her skills she'd never dreamed of. She would fight until death if it meant keeping Agrat with her.

  Light flared through the studio door and Phoebe turned to Agrat.

  "Galaden is in your studio. I order you. Stay back." Agrat dematerialized before she could reply.

  “Like hell I will.” Swift with determination, Phoebe ran out of her bedroom, toward the door that divided her apartment from her artist studio and slammed into an invisible wall. She landed on her bottom, her head spinning from bashing her forehead. Crawling onto her hands and knees she smashed her fist against the see-through wall. The energy shimmered but the wall was hard like thickened glass. Through it she could see and hear Galaden, the look on his face murderous as he grabbed hold of Agrat and slammed his fist into the prince’s nose.

  "Damn you, Agrat!" Phoebe cursed under her breath, not appreciating his determination to keep her out of the fight. Surprise shot through her when she saw the power Galaden packed behind his punch. She hadn’t expected this from the angel who was leaner in build than the prince. Normally he used his fireballs and sword, but from the deadly intent on his face, this battle was deeply personal.

  Blood spurted from Agrat’s nostrils. He roared and rammed his fist into Galaden’s stomach.

  The angel grunted as his body doubled over, flew backward and hit the wall. His head made a cracking sound. He staggered from the force of the punch, his crystal-blue eyes wide, clearly measuring the strength of his opponent as he hunched, every muscle coiled in his body ready to attack.

  “You wish to hand fight, Galaden?” Agrat wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand.

  "I want to feel your bones crunch under my fists," Galaden said.

  Agrat laughed, the sound deep and chilling. “I'll let you have a little taste of me to whet your appetite before I kill you. Your movements are slow, younger brother. The stone is consuming you. Soon you will be like your mother here, a statue minus its head and I will grind you both to dust. A fitting end for a traitor brother who took my kingdom and my woman, don't you think?"

  Galaden's lips turned to a snarl. "You dare call me a traitor? You who held a blade to my Rachael's throat and ended her life in front of me. I will make you wish you'd remained a statue. I’ve waited centuries for revenge. I should take Phoebe and slice her throat in front of you so you know how it feels to be betrayed by a brother.”

  Phoebe raised her hand to her throat in horror. She saw that Agrat was breathing heavily as he circled Galaden, clearly waiting for an opportunity to move in fast.

  "You had Phoebe at your mercy. I've fought many battles by your side. You're a swift killer but Daniel found Phoebe alive," Agrat said. "Do you love her still?"

  Phoebe pressed her hands against the invisible wall. "It was never like that." She had no idea if Agrat could hear her, but she knew Galaden's taunting would infuriate Agrat at a time he needed to keep his head.

  Galaden smiled, though his face remained brittle and cool. "Phoebe was my sweet concubine. I cared for her better than you." The angel moved faster than lightning and smashed his fist into Agrat's solar plexus.

  The prince gasped. He vanished, reappeared behind the angel, locked his arm around Galaden's throat and put his face close to Galaden's ear. "Did you rape her?"

  Phoebe saw Agrat's eyes glow and she knew Galaden's taunts had touched on the prince's deepest pain.

  Galaden raised his arms, took hold of Agrat's shoulders, bent forward and threw him over his head. The angel stood over Agrat and pressed his foot on the prince's throat, his expression ice. "Son of a demon whore! There will be no woman for me except my Rachael. I cared for Phoebe and she raised our sons, yours and mine. I wanted them to know love and Phoebe knew how to give it. I did not harm her. I owe her a debt of gratitude. I fight the vow every day I stay in this dimension."

  Phoebe put her hand to her mouth. The repetitive dream of Galaden sheltering her came to mind. He had never raped her as Agrat thought. When the angel had forced her to remember her past life with him, she had recalled that he had been caring and good to her. The vow was a force that controlled him but he fought it, clearly hating the hideous control it had over him. Yet, he had fought it. Still, she saw murder in the angel's eyes when he looked at Agrat. Pure, raw hatred.

  Agrat gripped Galaden's foot, which weighed down on his trachea, trying to shift the pressure, but the angel, despite his lithe body, had incredible strength.

  "You, I desire to kill. I will avenge Rachael," Galaden said to Agrat.

  Agrat's eyes flamed to become burning orbs. He grabbed Galaden's knee in one hand and his heel in the other and twisted, forcing the angel to fly forward or risk his leg snapping. Agrat leapt to his feet. "You persist in believing your treacherous mother's lies."

  "I was there. I saw you cut Rachael's throat," Galaden accused him. "For three thousand years I've thought of killing you, over and over again. I live only for this moment of revenge." He pointed to his scabbard and his sword unsheathed itself and flew into his hand.

  "As I have, you, for stealing my kingdom and my woman!" Agrat motioned with his hand and his dagger appeared in it. The prince lunged at him. Although the angel dodged him, Agrat’s dagger sliced across Galaden’s chest. A wheal of bright red blood appeared. "You're slow, angel brother. Slow and soon to be dead."

  Galaden grunted in pain and went for him.

  Phoebe had to focus to see him, Galaden moved with such velocity.

  The angel kicked the dagger out from Agrat's hand, flew behind him and caught him in a chin lock with his free arm.

  Agrat roared with fury, his face surprised at the swiftness of Galaden’s attack. He caught Galaden's wrist and prized the sword from Galaden's hand. It clattered onto the floor.

  Agrat tried to flip Galaden and failed. Every muscle in the demon's body strained, until he changed tactic by throwing himself backward onto the angel. The veins bulged on Galaden’s neck as he twisted and fought to subdue the demon, trying to pin him to the ground. He locked his hands around Agrat's throat, constricting his breath, his arm muscles bulging, his legs wrapped around the demon's body.

  Phoebe scrambled to her feet, her hands pressed against the invisible energy screen. It weakened under her pushing hands like a shee
t of plastic as Agrat fought to maintain his oxygen supply. By protecting her, the prince was dividing his energy source, she realized, and it was weakening him.

  Galaden cried out in victory as he pinned Agrat to the ground with his death grip and wiry body strength.

  Phoebe saw the prince struggling for breath. She rammed her body against the invisible shield and it expanded like elastic. Pushing through it, she ran at Galaden, crossing the distance with goddess-fast agility so that neither Agrat nor Galaden reacted to her movement. She swept Agrat's dagger off the floor and held it at the angel's throat. "Release him. Now!" she ordered.

  To her surprise, the angel obeyed her, rolled off Agrat and let him go.

  The prince sprang to his feet, gave her an indebted glance, before he grabbed the dagger from Phoebe and put it to Galaden's throat.

  "Prepare to join your mother, angel."

  Galaden's crystal-blue eyes glanced at his mother's decapitated head before turning his piercing gaze on his half-brother. "Take pleasure in my death, traitor brother. Show Phoebe how you love to kill. Cut my throat like you did Rachael's. Show her the demon in you. Let her see the beast."

  Phoebe saw Agrat recoil as the pain of Galaden's words sliced through him. The prince's expression turned to a snarl. "I do not enjoy killing. I did not harm the healer. Curse you and your vengeance."

  "Stop!" a voice cried out, sounding through the studio like a chime.

  Phoebe glanced from Galaden to the direction of the voice to see Cassiel appear with Daniel and Rachael. Both had an arm around Rachael as she wobbled, unsteady from the teleporting.

  "Agrat. No! Don't kill Galaden," Rachael cried, her expression horrified. "I know you didn't commit the crime that Galaden accuses you of."

  "Healer, how do you have this knowledge?" Agrat asked, not taking his gaze off Galaden, nor the blade of his dagger.

  "You know that is not true, my love," Galaden said to Rachael. "The demon is a murderer."

 

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