Archangels Creed Box Set 1-3

by Azure Boone

  He regarded Skylar who chewed the corner of her lip. Her jeaned legs were crossed and bouncing boisterously. It dawned on him what he was seeing in her in that second. She was nervous. She was all talk that one.

  The idea gave him an odd satisfaction and courage. She was just a woman. An American woman—trash to him. A tool to get a job done, that’s all. She wouldn’t intimidate him.

  “Fine. I’ll do it. But tell her to stop the bad Jewish jokes. I am not a Jew.”

  When she jerked wide blue eyes at him, triumph surged in his blood. While one up on her in intimidation, he decided to finish her off by removing his t-shirt. Then he threw it at her. That wide sky blue gaze fell to inspect his chest and her lips parted with, he was sure, shock. Guess she wasn’t expecting that much male. He turned and looked around. “Is that the room?” He pointed at the double door, making sure.

  “I believe it is, go check it out.” Toren’s tone reverberated with an unhappy edge and Ezekiel wasn’t sure why at that point as he went to look behind door number three. A bedroom.

  He turned and gestured at the room with a sweep of his arm and a slight bow. “After you, madam.”

  “Treat her properly or I’ll do to your balls what I did to your heart.”

  The words scraped through his mind like the angel had carved them with a knife on the inside of his skull.

  The proud to be a slutty American spirit bloomed with every bold step Skylar took toward him, her gaze focused on the bedroom, ignoring him like he were of no consequence to her. Ezekiel’s heart slammed his chest as he entered the room after her and shut the door. Then locked it.

  He fisted his hand after turning the bolt, willing the tremor out of it. Why would he be having PTSD symptoms for something like this? He could do this. It was nothing more than slaking physical needs in a brothel. On rare occasions with compelling enough reason, he managed to do that too.

  He took a deep breath for strength and turned. There she stood in only panties and bra, hands on her hips like a proud Arabian horse. A magnificent creature. Dangerous.

  Calling on brutal war tactics, Ezekiel slowly approached her with determination, eyes not straying from hers, intent on domination. Unfortunately it didn’t stop him from seeing. He lowered his gaze over her body with the intention of finding her flaws, only to lose himself in her perfection. He turned his head right and closed his eyes, gathering his will and purpose. Conquer the enemy.

  When he opened them, he realized his foe was far more devious than he’d imagined. She’d removed her bra. Ezekiel took the blow like a grunt, oxygen deserting him in one whoosh as his eyes stared down his newest enemy. Good God.

  Oh. My. Lordy, what was she doing? Giving him what he wanted, the all American slut. No, giving him what he deserved. She’d slept with men out of necessity enough times to know how to turn it all on and off. But then he wasn’t supposed to look at her that way. Like she mesmerized him. She fought the urge to cover herself from his probing gaze, feeling like he was seeing too far in. Past her shell.

  “I hope you know what to do.” She forced the words out harshly but they sure sounded too close to a desperate plea. He snapped his gaze to hers and she nearly crumpled. Anger and desire boiled in those dark eyes. Whoowee, lots of it.

  She didn’t mean to chew her lower lip but it was instinct, reflex even. Without taking her eyes off his, she was aware that he was removing his pants and she could only hold her breath. She fought to retain her courage and stubborn pride. Fought not to lower her gaze to look and show her interest. She couldn’t let him see how much he affected her. Why should he affect her? Arrogant Jew. Even if he wouldn't admit it.

  She gulped down her panic and the sound seemed to ricochet off the walls. He was naked now. He’d stepped out of his jeans. She didn’t need to look down to see but damn it she did. Oh holy Montana music. She took a step back when he took one forward. Her legs hit the bed and she had to sit to keep from falling. Which put her eye level with…her circumcised friend.

  Lord help her get with the program. Business. That’s it. Do the deed, done.

  She laid back on the bed and drew her knees up a little, one leg staggered next to the other in a sensual pose, a timid seduction.

  He climbed on the bed, looking like an angry panther that had chased his meal too long. She slipped into her numb zone and opened her legs becoming another woman. One that didn’t care about anything but finishing. And the way to do that was to pretend she loved it. She began purring and mmming and before she knew it he stole her breath with a quick entrance. She tried not to think about the feeling, only the purpose. Finish. She went through the moaning motions and vocal cries keeping her eyes closed and her head turned. Okay, she didn’t have to pretend a whole lot. He was very absolute in his thrusts and they were hard not to experience.

  In less than two minutes she felt him there at the edge, his breaths filling with those tell-tale grunts that accompanied a climax. She picked up her own pace, allowing her cries to grow. She even allowed herself to touch him in a feeling kind of way. She traced the ridges of warm muscle along his back until she reached his pumping buttocks. Hard. Like him. Skylar got lost in the entire sensation, gave herself to the power of his body, let it take her away from that platform she normally remained glued to while she played the fucking game. It was surprisingly easy to do.

  Just when she began to wonder how far he could take her, he froze up for a split second and pulled out, gasping through his orgasm. Maybe she should have told him she was on birth control and didn’t need to worry. She sort of resented that he’d disconnected at that perfect moment. Seemed like a violation in so many ways.

  He put his forehead on her shoulder, his gasps slowing. Skylar couldn’t resist turning her face into his, while feeling his perfect body in the embrace of her thighs. He rolled off until he sat at the edge of the bed with his back to her.

  “Done.”

  The one muttered word speared through her chest and stole her breath.

  Done.

  She flew off the bed and got her clothes on, fury bubbling in her veins. She hated men. All of them. All races, colors, creeds, they were all bastards.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  Of course he said it like there shouldn’t be anything wrong, like using women was as common and natural as plowing a goddamn field.

  “Fuck you soldier.”

  She stormed off and caught his sarcastic you just did before she slammed the door and went sit on the couch like a good little whore.

  He came out the room and Toren and Samantha entered from another door. Ezekiel sauntered over like a piece of shit and had the nerve to sit on the same sofa as her. She got up and went sat on the single chair next to the far window of the suite wanting nothing more than to jump out of it and stop existing.

  “What the fuck did you do?”

  All eyes turned to Toren’s harshly whispered words. Skylar was relieved to see them directed at Ezekiel. She couldn’t deal with a scolding of any kind at that point.

  “We did as you wanted,” Ezekiel said like the cocky bastard he was.

  God she’d never come to loathe a man so quickly.

  Skylar jumped when the angel seemed to become a streak of metal that ended on top of the human scum, neck pinned under one hand. “I will rip out your tongue if you ever use it to lie to me. You did not do what I wanted, you did what you wanted!” The yelled words shook with a metallic sound as a squirming Ezekiel struggled beneath the furious angel.

  Skylar’s heart pounded as she gripped her seat, watching the bastard thrash for air beneath Toren. He deserved it. He… Skylar came off her seat. “Stop it! You’re killing him.”

  The angel jerked a bright liquid gaze to her. “What he did is deserving of death.”

  What? “He…he didn’t—”

  “He didn’t once consider you.” The angel looked back down at Ezekiel. “He only cared about himself. And worse than that, he uses God
to justify it.” Toren jerked him off the floor and held him by the throat in the air before him. “How dare you put his Holy name on your filthy ideals. Zealots like you disgust me. She is more precious to God than all the men on this earth like you put together. And do you know why?”

  Ezekiel could only grunt as he flailed his legs and gripped the angel's arm with both hands.

  “Because she is a woman!” Tears came to Skylar’s eyes at how he said that one word. With such awe. Such immaculate reverence. For the first time in her life, all her pain and sorrow had a voice, echoed in his words. “She is a gift! To be protected! Nurtured! Cherished! Not used like an animal, you disgusting human!”

  The vicious animosity faded. "You think you're strong. That all men are stronger than women. Don't you understand? She submitted. She took you inside her. She endured you. You ruined it. You took what she gave like the ungrateful lout you are and gave nothing in return. You were willing to protect her from the demons, but…" His voice trailed off. "Never mind." He dropped Ezekiel to the floor where he gasped and choked.

  “I’m sorry.” Ezekiel truly sounded it.

  Nearly dying had that effect Skylar supposed.

  “Prove it. Because what you just did was a joke where power is concerned. Without her pleasure you have nothing. And if you ever do that to her again, the relief of death will become your heart’s desire.”

  Ezekiel continued to gasp as he nodded, and Skylar suddenly realized the weight of the entire event. This angel meant for them to be married. And that meant…that meant she’d have to play the game again. With him.

  Skylar suddenly couldn’t breathe and rushed to the room she’d just left. She paced up and down, trying to think. Trapped. She was trapped. She needed to run. She didn’t want to do this, screw saving the world, she wouldn’t sacrifice herself this way. Couldn't. What was she thinking? Who was she trying to kid? She wouldn’t marry him. He didn’t love her. He hated her.

  She spun when she heard the door open and Ezekiel came in, his head down. Like a dog that had been beaten into submission. To love her.

  God, this was humiliating.

  She sat on the bed and crossed her arms, fighting for courage just to keep from flying apart. Tears pooled in her eyes and she fought to keep them back, to stop them from breaching the control point.

  God don’t sit next to me.

  But he did.

  ** ** **

  Ezekiel wanted to beg at her feet. What the angel had done to him hadn't just shown him his error, but made him feel to the deepest depth of his being.

  She’d thought the angel was strangling him, but when Toren's hand was around his throat, he’d allowed Ezekiel to fuse with his angelic power. There had been a whirling rope of silver looking fire tied to Skylar’s soul and during those endless seconds, he experienced every sexual encounter that she’d suffered. And not one was pleasurable. Except with him. For just a millisecond.

  And even though he hadn’t cared a thing about her pleasure she’d cared about his. She’d cared about him. Which explained her anger with him. Not anger—hurt. Devastation. He'd given hope then selfishly snatched it away. He was lower than a worm. And if he didn’t show her how sorry he was, he’d die.

  Only how did he do that without looking like a lying fake? Why should she believe such a drastic turn around?

  Ezekiel slid to the floor and decided begging her for forgiveness was the least he could do. He held on to her legs and didn’t let her resist. “Please you have to believe me, I didn’t know, I didn’t know, I had no clue, I’m so sorry, so sorry, please forgive me.” Pain constricted his chest until he couldn’t breathe. “Please forgive me.” He laid his head on her lap and wrapped his arms around her.

  He stayed there as long as she allowed, whispering his regret over and over to her. When her fingers found their way into his hair and began stroking, Ezekiel looked up at her and found her staring toward the window with tears brimming in her eyes and her chin trembling.

  “It’s alright.” Her whisper held that melodic twangy accent. How had he not seen how sweet it was? “It isn’t your fault. You weren’t taught any better.”

  Ezekiel closed his eyes at how amazing her forgiveness felt. Nearly as good as her fingers stroking at his neck now. He went back to his spot in her lap, arms embracing her, recalling what else the angel had imparted to him. How much she enjoyed when he’d…God, he needed to make that right. Show her. But how? He was so inexperienced.

  ** ** **

  Skylar was fighting herself and losing. Half of her fought to hold on to the bitter anger she kept inside but there was a part of her that was too damn hungry for what he was offering. Real affection, real regret, real…anything.

  It felt good in that desperate moment. His short cropped hair felt good. His words felt good. His hot breath penetrating her jeans felt good.

  It was like a dam where the water slowly rose and pushed against its barrier. With every second, it pushed a little more until Skylar was at the breaking point. The problem was, what needed out didn’t feel very lady like. He already saw her as the great and terrible whore of America and lo and behold she could feel her inner slut, that hidden woman in her, the one desperate for real love and passion, raging to live for the first time.

  Fresh memories of how he felt when he was inside her erupted her core with a heat so hot and hard, she whimpered from it.

  He lifted his head from her lap, concern on his cute—no, freaking gorgeous—face.

  “Are you okay?”

  She bit her lower lip and shook her head. She couldn’t even speak. She was bursting at the seams with need and longing. Oh God, so much need.

  “What…can I do?”

  The sound in his voice, what his words meant, oh Lord help her body function. Wait…did he just ask what to do? Didn’t he know?

  As though he’d read her mind, or maybe her face, he whispered in utter shame and distress, “I…I wished I hadn’t spent my entire life learning only how to fill my own needs.”

  Wow. But he’d done so well when…

  “Show me. What you want.” He licked his lips, his eyes sparkling with sincerity. “Whatever it is, I will do it.”

  Oh shock and awe. Now if only she knew the answer to that. She recalled when he had took control of their first kiss. How passionate it had felt. Even if they were about to die, it had been unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

  Skylar looked at his mouth. “Kiss me.”

  She slowly gripped the covers as he moved to kneel before her. He leaned in and placed a barely kiss on her lips only making her dizzy with need. The need for so much more.

  With her eyes still closed, she whispered, “Like you did…at the cabin.”

  He hesitated until she opened her eyes and looked into his distraught face. “We were going to die, I—”

  She gasped and met his pretty blue gaze, fighting to breathe around the boulder in her chest. “I am dying.” The words seemed to untie the bindings on her heart and her need poured forth. “Dying to be loved,” she sobbed.

  She sat there unable to keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks. No turning back now. She was wide open, it was all or nothing. She watched Ezekiel digest her words and their meaning, watched them take root. And wondered what they might produce.

  He reached up and stroked her face, from her temple, slowly down to her chin. Then her neck.

  Her heart raced as she watched his face, those amazing blue eyes focused on his hand. She gasped when his finger brushed over her painfully erect nipple. He raised his gaze to hers, a knowing look in the blue depths. He stroked again. The pleasure it caused was dizzying and she sat there as he built a raging inferno inside her with only one finger, back and forth over her nipple. “Oh God, yes.” She finally surrendered and closed her eyes.

  Ezekiel carefully lifted her shirt and removed it. Skylar placed her hands behind her, offering him everything. The longing to be touched with passio
n mixed with the newness of never having been, produced a shy hesitancy.

  Ezekiel wasn’t hesitant.

  He tormented her with both hands now, stroking over her nipples with a slow deliberation. “You are very beautiful.” The ache in his voice turned the fire higher between her legs. Its molten fingers seemed to slither over her muscles, forcing her thighs open with the need to be…touched...with….

  She gasped as warm fingers skimmed over her breasts to her waist, delicately tracing muscles along the way until he ended at the button on her jeans.

  He unfastened them and slid down the zipper like he were unwrapping something spectacular. She lifted her butt off the bed when he began to work them over her hips. She was eager to be free of them, wanting his touch. Down there…however she could get it.

  Once free, desire, the new and delicious liquid courage, flowed through her limbs and she opened her legs for him. His sexy lips remained parted as his stern gaze riveted to what she showed him. No, flaunted. Her most secret place. She didn’t want him to think she was a whore but she couldn’t stop herself from behaving like one. A desperate, wanton, whore. God she never wanted anything so much as for him to…to touch her there. With his fingers. The way she did many nights. The way she once fantasized how a good man might touch a woman.

  Again desire rolled through her body, moving her hips in small inviting tilts toward him. Oh God, touch me. Please. He looked up at her finally and her tummy tickled at what she saw in his eyes. Innocent desire, raw and potent, and unskilled. Unrestrained. He’d given Reckless a face and name.

  The vague surety of what he was capable of caused hungry butterflies to swarm her stomach and bite her lower lip. She silently prayed he’d ask the questions haunting his blue eyes.

  “Can I touch you?”

  Oh thank you Jesus. She nodded. “Yes, yes.” Desperate, she licked her lips and opened her legs wider just in case he was confused about what she wanted.