Her Avenging Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 7)

by Felicity Heaton

  His wings arched higher, blocking out some of the stars that twinkled against the velvet darkness of the sky. She couldn’t resist laying her hands on them. She had never felt feathers before, had always feared them and associated them with angels, but Nevar’s wings were beautiful, cast with a violet sheen that caught the moonlight.

  Lysia gently stroked her left palm down the arch of his wing and he grunted against her breast and then growled, sucking harder. She felt the arousal that bolted through him and smiled. He liked this. She caressed both wings this time, following their strong curves and feeling the softness of his feathers. They tickled her fingertips, making them tingle in the same way that Nevar’s suckling made her tingle at the apex of her thighs.

  When she wrapped her hands over the muscular ridge of his wings, he growled and jerked his head up.

  “Lysia,” he husked, his voice deeper than ever, scraping low enough that she was left in no doubt of the desire her touch had stirred.

  If she had doubted it, he would have shown her the depth of it when he kissed her, claiming her and sending her out of her mind.

  His lips clashed fiercely with hers and their tongues tangled, his fighting her for dominance that she refused to give to him. She liked the battle, a duel of strength and passion, and wouldn’t surrender so easily to him. It thrilled her together with how he responded, kissing her harder and bringing his body down against hers, so their chests pressed together.

  The mark on hers blazed violet.

  Not only hers, she realised as he pulled back again and stared down at them, his white hair hanging forwards and coming away from his horns.

  Lysia made them her next target for exploration and reached for them as the mark on her chest faded again, sinking back under her skin.

  “I did not realise you had a mark to—” He cut himself off with a deep grunt when she wrapped her fingers around his horns and his jaw clenched.

  His big body shuddered and he unleashed a rumbling groan. She brushed her fingers over the hard protrusions and his lips parted, his eyes screwing shut as his eyebrows met hard above them.

  “Fuck,” he uttered and shook again, one of his arms giving out this time, sending him back down against her.

  His heart thundered against her chest.

  She smiled mischievously and stroked his horns again, running her fingers up to their pointed tips this time. They grew in response, flaring back from behind his ears, and he bucked against her.

  Lysia froze, her heart beating wildly now, all of her awareness locked on the steel length rubbing between her thighs. She quivered in response and tried to hold back her moan, but it was impossible. It slipped from her lips and Nevar’s eyes opened. His wicked smile beat the one she had given him as he ground against her, tearing another breathless gasp from her.

  “I can play with the best of them,” he murmured and lowered his mouth back to hers. “Just remember that.”

  She would. She would remember that if she wanted to drive him to the brink of madness, the point where he would surrender to his desire for her, all she had to do was stroke his horns.

  He kissed her again, swallowing her moan as every inch of her came alive and clamoured for more. She needed more than this rubbing and teasing.

  She rocked against him and he uttered a black curse.

  “Need you naked,” he said between kisses and she nodded in agreement. Naked sounded good.

  Perfect in fact.

  She gasped when her clothes disappeared in the same fashion as his armour had, and then groaned when he shifted against her and his naked flesh glided across hers. His response was a guttural moan, a sound of pure male satisfaction that lit her up inside and made her rock against him, wanting to hear it again.

  She opened to him, allowing him closer, moaning as he moved against her, rubbing her with his hot hard shaft.

  “Nevar.” She tangled her fingers in his hair, brushed his horns with her thumbs, tried to keep on kissing him, but every part of her felt as if it was overloading and all of her actions became jerky and desperate.

  He seemed more in control, better able to cope with the feel of their flesh meeting, and she cursed him for it. She was beyond kisses and gentle rocking now. She needed more.

  “Please,” she whispered, her desperation overwhelming her and the tightness in her belly, the fierce need for release, demanding she surrender to him now.

  She needed him inside her.

  He moaned and raised his hips away from hers, and she came close to cursing him for it, but then he reached between them, taking hold of his shaft, and she lost her ability to breathe.

  She struggled to keep kissing him as he rubbed the crown over her, guiding it downwards. Anticipation coiled within her, driving back the fear, and she waited, eager to feel him completing her in the most primal of ways.

  The blunt head nudged inside her and she barely had time to gasp before he drove his full length home.

  Lysia bit down on her tongue to stop herself from crying out from the pain of the invasion.

  Nevar froze above her, his lips resting against hers.

  He stayed there for long seconds in which she wasn’t sure what to do but knew that he was upset with her for some reason.

  The silence grew thick and oppressive.

  He snarled.

  “Dammit, Lysia,” he growled against her lips and then drew back, his eyes searching hers in the low light from the moon. He stroked the strands of her hair from her face, smoothing them back into place, and settled his hand against her cheek. His expression softened, matching his gentle tone. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She only had one answer to that question.

  “Because I didn’t think it would matter.”

  He frowned and shifted, resting all of his weight on his elbows. The action moved him inside her and her eyes widened when tingles shot through her belly in response, fire the magnitude of which astounded her. He felt thick and long inside her, filling her in a way that was beginning to feel more delicious than painful.

  “It matters,” he snapped and closed his eyes, turning his face away from her. “It matters because I am not worthy of this.”

  Lysia caught both of his cheeks in her hands and gently drew him back to her, hating the pain that flowed through him, the self-reproach that seemed ingrained in him for some reason. Whatever the reason was, she wanted to destroy it. She wanted to show him that he was wrong about himself.

  She lured him down to her and kissed him, softly brushing her lips across his, hoping it would make him see that what she was about to say was the truth and what she felt in her heart.

  She rested her forehead against his so their noses touched and whispered, “There has never been anyone more worthy of me than you, Nevar.”

  He opened his eyes and pulled back, his gaze questioning hers. She let him see into her, leaving nothing hidden from him and allowing him inside.

  “That is why my body is untouched. I have never desired anyone before you. I have never felt a tender caress or a heated stroke of a hand across my flesh. I have never known such feelings as you awaken in me.” She held his gaze and kept hold of his cheeks, ensuring he stayed with her and didn’t try to pull away again. She could feel the discomfort her words caused and could see it in his eyes too. A touch of colour climbed his cheeks and she brushed them with her thumbs. “Speak to me.”

  He sighed and closed his eyes, hanging his head between her hands. “Is this real?”

  It wasn’t quite what she had expected him to say and it hurt her a little that he doubted what was happening between them, even when she could understand his uncertainty.

  “I think so,” she said, unafraid of putting voice to that feeling. If he doubted the feelings between them because of the bond that existed, then she would show him that they were real and wouldn’t give up until he believed her.

  He opened his eyes and looked back into hers. “I hope it is… because I’ve wanted you since I first set eyes on you.�
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  She couldn’t stop the blush that burned her cheeks on hearing that soft confession after he had declared himself unworthy of her. His expression turned uncomfortable again and she kissed him to soothe him and make him see that he had no reason to be embarrassed, because she had liked what he had said to her.

  He deepened the kiss, seizing control of it again, and settled his body back against hers. She moaned as he moved inside her, still hard and hot, reawakening the needful ache she felt for him.

  “This is real,” she murmured against his lips. “I know it is… because I have never felt anything like this before.”

  She hoped he understood that and everything she wasn’t saying. It wasn’t the bond between them that made her desire him, because she’d had masters before him, and had known only hatred for them. She had never desired anyone before meeting him, had never craved knowledge of a man’s touch or had wanted to allow someone to see beyond the barriers and let them inside.

  He kissed her softly as he began to move inside her, gentle thrusts that tore breathless moans from her lips and had her clutching his shoulders. He gathered her to him, into the circle of his strong arms, and covered them with his wings, blocking out the world, as if he wanted her to know only him in this moment.

  He was all she knew.

  He was all she could feel as his kiss drugged her and his body moved within hers, claiming all of her.

  His fingers curled around her shoulders and he kissed her harder as he began to rock deeper, building a different tempo between them, one that felt it would take her out of her mind, if not her body.

  She couldn’t stop herself from wrapping her legs around him and delighting in stroking his back, feeling his powerful muscles shifting beneath his skin with each deep thrust of his cock into her body. She moaned and nipped at his lower lip, tearing a groan from him and a jerk of his length that struck deeper within her, sending sparks skittering over her flesh.

  He lowered one hand to her hip and drew it up to him, and she gasped, her eyes flying wide when he plunged back into her and she felt every inch of him as he filled her, far deeper than before, leaving no part of her untouched.

  She dug her claws into his backside and he chuckled against her lips as she drove him into her, unable to stop herself from satisfying her deep need to feel him taking her and making love with her.

  His lips played across hers and over her cheek and she lifted her eyelids and stared at the column of his throat. Her mouth watered. Her fangs itched.

  The hunger for release collided with a hunger for his blood, swirling together into one fierce need that would not be denied.

  Her fangs dropped and she kissed her way down his throat, her body heating to a thousand degrees as she felt his pulse kicking beneath her lips. He moaned as she suckled a point above his vein and pumped harder, each powerful commanding thrust driving her into the sand.

  “Nevar,” she moaned, more a plea for permission than an outburst of pleasure.

  He rocked harder, the deep plunge of his steel hard length into her ripping a different sort of moan from her throat as sparks shot through her and her belly tightened. The primitive voice within her told her to drive him harder and push him to keep thrusting like that until she fell apart and the bliss of release took her.

  She clutched his backside, her mouth working furiously against his throat, losing herself for a moment in the hunger to feel him joining with her, giving her the pleasure she craved from him.

  Her other hunger rose again, fighting and gaining ground once more, until she came close to sinking her fangs into his flesh and drinking her fill of him. She held herself back with her fangs poised to strike, part of her lucid and aware that he would be angry with her if she bit him without permission.

  “Do it.” Those two words, spoken in such a dark and hungry voice, one made of pure black magic, made her shiver from head to toe. He lowered his mouth to her neck and whispered into her ear. “I want it… bite me, Lysia… God only knows I will go fucking insane if you don’t. Just thinking about it has me so hard that it hurts. Do it… feed from me.”

  She sank her fangs into his throat and he moaned and shuddered against her, ramming his cock deep into her body. He grunted with her first pull on his blood and she cried out against his neck as it flowed down her throat, his strength instantly washing through her. She clutched his head with one hand and drank deeply, each mouthful only making her hunger for more of his intoxicating taste. He moaned and mouthed her neck, kissing and devouring her with blunt teeth, and it was on the tip of her tongue to beg him to bite her too, but she silenced that need.

  It would push him too far.

  He grasped her hip, his claws digging into her flesh, and pumped faster, each long stroke hitting her as deep as he could go and his pelvis slamming against her sensitive flesh. She couldn’t take much more. Her belly felt so tight she thought she might explode.

  She moaned and pulled down another mouthful of his blood. It combined with the pleasure ricocheting through her, heightening it until she felt she was floating high above the world, up in the stars.

  Nevar growled against her throat and gave another powerful thrust, and the entire universe exploded, every star in the sky detonating in a colourful burst. Tingly heat blazed through her, making her thighs tremble against him, and she convulsed in his arms, releasing her grip on his neck as she cried out her bliss.

  He swooped on her mouth and kissed her hard, his tongue lapping at the blood on her fangs and thrilling her as she gave herself over to him, surrendering completely. He thrust harder, his actions turning rougher, and grunted with each powerful meeting of their bodies. She clenched him inside her, the last ripples of her pleasure making her quiver around him, and he jerked to a halt and growled as he shot hot pulses of his seed inside her, his length throbbing and sending aftershocks of bliss through her.

  When his climax subsided, he slowly sank down against her, pinning her to the sand, and his kiss gentled.

  Lysia let everything wash over her, piecing herself back together as she kissed him and savoured the feel of him inside her. It had been far more powerful than she had imagined it would be, leaving her changed forever and awakening a hunger within her that she felt sure would never die, an eternal need to have this beautiful warrior at her side.

  He rolled onto his back, bringing her with him, his soft feathered black wings folding around her at the same time. They tickled her bare flesh but she liked the feel of them wrapped around her, shielding and protecting her from the world.

  She liked the feel of him beneath her, their bodies still joined, and the way he looked at her as she pushed herself up, breaking their kiss.

  There was tenderness in his gaze that she had never seen before, feelings that she had seen in the eyes of the other men when they looked at their women. He was looking at her with that same deep affection and she knew his eyes were a mirror of hers. They both felt something, and they both feared it.

  He for reasons unknown to her.

  She because part of her heart felt that there would be no happy ending for them as the others shared. She tried to shut out that poisonous voice but it refuse to be quiet, playing on repeat in her mind and threatening to ruin the moment.

  He lazily brushed her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear, and slid his hand around the nape of her neck and chased away the voice in her heart.

  He kissed her and she moaned when she felt him growing hard within her, rousing her own passion as she thought about losing herself in him all over again.

  With his blood flowing through her and restoring her strength, and the way he looked at her with hunger flaring in his jade eyes, she felt more confident.

  This time, she wanted to be in control.

  He would surrender to her.

  CHAPTER 13

  Nevar woke alone in the small hut and unleashed a string of the foulest curses available in the demonic tongue, all of them directed at himself, a berating he deserved for w
hat he had done.

  Kissing Lysia had been bad enough, but taking her virginity cast him right down there with the Devil in the despicable and evil stakes.

  He should have stopped before, when she had been kissing him and he’d had a passing glimmer of suspicion. It had easily fled him, driven out by the need he had felt for her, a powerful urge to lose himself in her and just forget the world and their positions in it. He had wanted to devour her and all that was good in her, everything that was pure and beautiful, and somehow take it into him. He had needed her with an urgency and desperation he had never felt before, not even when he had been in the deepest throes of his addiction to Euphoria.

  He cursed himself again for good measure when he thought about that time in his life and the horrendous things he had done. He raised his black clawed hands above him and stared at them. Hands that had groped countless nameless demon bitches and had killed them after they had given him his high and his release.

  Hands he had dared to lay on beautiful Lysia.

  These tainted hands didn’t belong anywhere near her and he should have been aware of that last night. He should have stopped himself from kissing her, let alone what had come afterwards. He hadn’t only placed his filthy hands on her, but he had been all too eager to get inside her and spoil her that way too. He hadn’t only taken her virginity from her, something that he didn’t deserve, but he had fouled her with his touch and his cock.

  He growled and covered his eyes with his hands, digging the heels in deep as he pressed his claws into his scalp.

  What had he done?

  He had been so drugged by the thought of being with her, by the taste of her sweet kiss, that he hadn’t been thinking clearly but he no longer had that problem or that excuse. Hindsight was a bitch.

  He couldn’t deny that he wanted her, craved her with an intensity that startled him at times and made him feel weak, aching for her smile or an innocent touch, or that his feelings for her had changed, growing stronger.