Harleen felt herself relax, but it was only when they reached their bedroom did she realize what was going to happen. She didn’t feel too nervous, but anxious and a little bit excited. Her eyes watched Andrew sharply as he began to light candles with his finger, no matches necessary. Besides the flickering flames, the room was completely dark, the tone romantic. If Harleen had been watching this as a movie, she would think it was cheesy. But then again, it was always different if something happened to her.
When he was finished, Andrew turned and stared at Harleen, gazing into her eyes, trying to decipher them. Without a word, he took a couple of steps forward so he was mere inches from her before reaching out and cupping her cheek within his plan. Harleen felt herself lean into his touch without thinking about it, but this only seemed to further Andrew’s resolve.
“You know I’ll never hurt you,” he whispered to her, his dark hazel eyes serious and firm.
Harleen couldn’t speak, and instead, she forced herself to nod.
“If you want to stop,” he continued, another step towards her taken more by his impatience rather than by himself, “you need to tell me. It will be hard, but” -
“I want this.” Her voice was softer than his was, but just as serious. She didn’t need to say more, and he didn’t either.
Andrew tilted his head downwards and placed his lips gently on her own. The kiss was soft, like the flapping wings of a butterfly, and somehow, managed to take Harleen’s breath away. If she was still unsure about whether or not she wanted this, she was sure now. Her arms reached up and her fingers tangled themselves in his dark hair as he tilted her head back and deepened the kiss, needing to taste her once more. Saying it had helped, but feeling it was better.
With subtle skill, Andrew began to lead Harleen backwards, not enough to distract her from kissing him, but enough so in a few moments they reached the edge of the bed. Nobody spoke as Andrew wrapped a sturdy arm around Harleen’s waist and pulled her down to the bed, his body following her so he was on top of her, but not pressing any of his weight on her. He kissed her again as he moved their bodies up more on the bed, and let his hand trace the outline of her side, needing to feel her body.
Harleen had no idea what to do in return. A part of her had been worried that he might not be pleased the way she was, but a bigger, more rational voice in her head told her to simply enjoy what was happening. Instead of thinking, she was feeling, and that was what was important.
“Let me take care of you,” Andrew murmured against her lips. “You don’t have to worry about a thing.”
Harleen could feel the butterflies take over, but she nodded as he tilted his head away from her and remembered to trust him. He didn’t want to hurt her, he wanted to please her.
Within moments, clothes were shed, littering the floor around the bed, and Andrew’s lips were back on Harleen as his hands explored her body. Harleen wasn’t exactly sure what she was supposed to pay attention to first, but her body responded to his ministrations and even encouraged her to touch him in much the same way. Her fingers had yearned to explore him and they did, running along the ridges of his abdomen before sinking into his back, hugging him tight against his body before burying themselves in his thick hair.
Andrew’s mouth left hers, but only to descend downwards, to trail kisses down the graceful column of her throat, to outline her collarbone, descending downwards even more in the valley of her breasts, before tilting and capturing a nipple between his lips. Harleen gasped in surprise, but the feeling was pleasurable, and subconsciously, her fingers pushed his head even tighter against her.
As he stimulated her breast, Harleen closed her eyes. It wasn’t until she felt his freehand in between her legs did she realize just what it was he was doing. They were callused and long and were itching to touch her, to please her. She couldn’t help but spread her legs slightly, giving him better access to her core. Of course Harleen had experimented with herself but she hadn’t yet achieved what she so desperately craved.
“Come for me,” he said, trying to contain his own desire. He wanted to make sure she was already wet and waiting for him.
At first, it was hard for Harleen to concentrate, but Andrew was patient with her and soon enough, Harleen felt herself reach her peak before releasing herself against Andrew’s fingers. The pleasure surged through her, and at that moment, she knew she needed him inside of her, needed to feel more. Even so, her face crimsoned at her reaction to such pleasure, causing Andrew to study her he positioned himself above her.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured. “You have no reason to be ashamed.”
His words helped her relax, and soon, he had slipped inside of her. Andrew had to bite down on his bottom lip to keep from losing control of himself and wait until she was ready to proceed. She really was his, in every essence of the word.
Andrew then proceeded to make love to her, feeling a connection and a fullness he had never felt before. And Harleen felt the same way. She didn’t want to do this with anybody else.
Even more than that, she wanted to do it again.
Twenty-One
She dreamed about him, about what they had done. How could she not. The way his hands gripped her waist tightly, possessively as he thrust into her, as she moaned his name. His lips were like poison, something she wanted more and more despite the fact that they were bad for her. Hell, he was bad for her. He was the Devil for goodness’ sake, and that was all there was to it.
But when he made love to her, she didn’t think he was completely evil. How could he be, if he had been an angel before falling from grace? People seemed to forget that he was good as well as evil – human, unlike God, but similar to humanity due to the fact that they were imperfect as well. Harleen could almost say he loved her due to what he did to her last night, but she didn’t want to be presumptuous, nor did she want to be one of those girls who confused love with sex. And yet, after last night, Harleen knew something had changed between them.
It was as though occupying her as a whole made her completely his, and though she would never admit it aloud, she had no qualms about belonging to Andrew. He was a beautiful specimen, masculine and compassionate. His body felt as though he knew her body down to a tee, knew her inside out, and maybe he did. It didn’t exactly matter to her though; she simply loved being wrapped up in him, and wanted to feel him again inside of her. Wanted to feel the pleasure he caused her by merely looking at her, by merely caressing her, by filling her up. She knew she would be sore; they had done the deed once more after the first time, and her lust for him caused her to push him even deeper than before.
He had gotten a little rough the second time. She liked when he got rough. Her whimpers turned into full-fledged moans, and before, she might have been embarrassed by her vocals, but they seemed to inspire him. The most beautiful sound she had ever heard was his own noise, loved to see her body reflected in those even darker hazel eyes. Harleen had always felt it was the eyes who spoke words the mouth refused to say, and the way they looked at her…
Andrew made her feel beautiful, made her feel like this sensual creature who deserved pleasure, who deserved to be his Queen. And she wanted to return the favor. She would finally read that book she had bought weeks ago, and she wouldn’t be ashamed this time. Harleen would be educating herself, and luckily for her, Nigel wouldn’t be around to ask her about it. It was her own little secret, her own little surprise for her husband.
Her husband…
It was then that Harleen remembered she was married to him. It was a silly thing to forget since she had seen his wedding ring, seen her own, but the thought hadn’t registered. She had only been focused on him. What they had done last night – they had consummated their relationship. They were truly and officially husband and wife. And something inside Harleen was content with that.
But did this mean that she loved him? It was clear she couldn’t assume one way or another for Andrew, and she didn’t want to ruin this elated feeling by over
analyzing it, but she had to wonder. Her body craved his and only his, and when she was in his arms, she felt her whole body relax, as though everything in her world was content. She was definitely attracted to him. She loved his dark hazel eyes especially when they were on her. She loved his crooked smile. She loved his body, loved his long fingers, loved his curly hair, loved his jaw line, loved his voice. She loved the way he allowed her to sit in Court and even respected her decisions. She loved the way he couldn’t resist her on the dance floor, loved waking up in his arms though she would never admit it. And she loved that he had thrown pebbles against her window and whisked her away in the night.
She loved him.
It was as simple as that.
A smile touched her lips at the realization. Harleen wasn’t worried or upset or even thinking about it much. There was no need to, not when something was. And her love for him was just something she didn’t understand. Hell, she didn’t even need him to love her in return.
It was still dark outside, or at least, that was what the windows reflected. It had to be early in the morning though. Maybe two or three o’clock in the morning. Andrew’s arm was thrown around her waist, pulling her back close against his chest. The side of his face rested against her shoulder, and she could feel his steady breathing against her back, could feel his warm breath encompass her. It calmed her, and made her feel even more complete than she had felt prior to knowing him.
Harleen had never been the type of girl who needed a man to be satisfied with life. Rosco was fun to be with, but God, he was nothing like Andrew and he could never achieve that. She knew somewhere inside of her, Rosco would find someone else. Somehow, she had always known that she and Rosco would never have worked out. They were too different, and while Harleen had loved him a little, she hadn’t loved him wholly. Maybe that was because she had never meant to. Fate had something different in store for her.
It was at that moment that she wondered how God saw her. Was she some sort of demonic concubine that deserved to spend the rest of eternity in Hell, or did He always know that she would end up with His most imperfect angel? She liked to think that maybe God still cared for Andrew in some way – Andrew was, after all, His creation too – and so He had sent her to the fallen angel.
Then again, maybe she was just being too thoughtful on such a silly matter.
At that moment, Andrew shifted in his sleep, turning around and taking the big blanket with him. Harleen smothered her amused chuckles as best as she could. She wasn’t going to fall back asleep any time soon, and it had been a while for her seeing the stars.
She stood up and stretched, noticing the way the moon had seeped into the room, washing her body with its milky rays. Goosebumps prickled at her skin, and as a result, she turned and grabbed a silky sheet that had all but slipped off the bed after their moments of passion from the previous night. She coiled the blanket tightly around her body so that she was both warm and decent, and proceeded to walk out onto the balcony in order to look outside.
The view of Court was beautiful. Their room was high enough to see the roves of the various houses just outside the castle, all blanketed in complete darkness. The meadow was to her right, the fountain that marked the center of the Courtyard was to her left, and she could make out two guards whispering to themselves while trying to keep warm. Another misconception of Hell was that it was boiling hot, but in reality, it mirrored earth; it was cool at night and in the morning, progressively warmed up in the day.
Without any sort of warning, something caressed Harleen’s neck and she jumped. She glanced sharply back, and Andrew chuckled soft, a pair of pants on the lower half of his body the only thing keeping him decent. He had kissed her neck, she realized, and she smiled at him, a light blush caressing his face. Just because she liked the act of making love didn’t mean she had completely grown out of her blushing habit. A part of her doubted that she ever would.
“What are you doing up, Harley?” he asked her in a tired voice, his fingers reaching up to toy with her hair. He needed to touch her in some way.
Harleen knew Andrew would never not call her Harleey unless he chose to do so, so reminding him would do no good. Instead, she sighed through her nose and tilted her head back upwards, casting her eyes to the sky. “I was hoping to see the stars,” she told him.
Instead of looking at the sky along with his wife, Andrew stared at Harleen, memorizing the contours of her face, counting her freckles, her eye lashes.
“There aren’t stars here,” he said in a regretful voice. He wanted to give her anything she could imagine, and most of the time, he could. But he couldn’t give her stars. However… “But if you want to see them one more time, I can arrange it.”
The smile Harleen shot at him just showed that, though she didn’t know it, and though he would never agree if it was spoken out loud, she had him wrapped around her finger.
Twenty-Two
Andrew’s dark hazel eyes rested firmly on the woman next to him. They sculpted her face, down the slope of her cheek, the curve of her lips that he had kissed countless time within the past twelve hours. Her hair was messy and tangled, but somehow, it resembled a halo. He had ensnared an angel, but he hadn’t ever expected to get her this way. She slept on the majority of her stomach, her arms strategically placed so she wasn’t indecent despite the covers coming up to only her waist. He traced her back with his eyes, loving the way her back curved in before curving out into her backside.
Having her made him realize just how much time he had wasted with everybody else, with women he didn’t even remember. It didn’t matter. He had her now, and that was all that mattered. Was it love? He didn’t know. He wasn’t even sure if someone like him was even capable of loving somebody else. Of course, he liked to think that he was, but maybe he wasn’t. He knew, however, that he cared about Harleen more than anything he had ever cared about, and wanted nothing but the best for her. He loved her smile, of course, and her eyes, and her laugh. He loved the feeling of being inside of her; it gave him a sense of belonging he had never felt before now. His entire time of existence, Andrew had always felt as though nobody wanted him. He was Satan, after all. And yet, this woman couldn’t seem to get enough of him.
It didn’t matter if they were fighting or making love; he wanted more of it. Andrew wanted more of her, and he was damned if it ever came time to let him go. He wouldn’t do it.
He reached up and brushed her slender shoulder with the backs of his fingers, trailing downwards to her elbow. The corners of his lips quirked up when he realized he had left goose bumps in his wake. Even in slumber, her body still reacted to him. He loved that.
Andrew didn’t exactly possess a strong urge to control himself, especially when there was a beautiful nude woman lying an inch away from him, so he couldn’t exactly help it when his lips descended down in order to kiss the crevice of her neck. A sigh slipped out of her mouth, and he couldn’t help himself; he had to kiss her again. When his lips molded onto hers, Harleen’s eyes fluttered open, and she smiled through the kiss, reaching up and looping her arms around his neck, drawing him even closer to her so that he was nearly on top of her.
“I want you,” she murmured against his lips, opening her eyes once more, looking at him with darkened irises and a lazy smile.
Andrew could already feel his body respond to the words coming out of her mouth, and he smiled down at her, his dark eyes sparkling in a way that revealed he was truly happy in this particular moment. “You are going to be the death of me, woman,” he told her, but he didn’t exactly look as though he was being put off by the prospect of making love to her in the slightest.
“You were the one who woke me up in such a way,” she told him before giggling at the disbelieving look written upon his face. Before he could stop her, she wrapped her legs around the lower half of his body. “Are you saying you won’t?”
Did she really have to give him such a look? With those big eyes of hers and those edible lips that only looked bi
gger when she pouted in such a way… How could he say no?
Once his eyes gave his decision away, Harleen grinned and pulled him even closer so he would kiss her again. Andrew allowed her to take over momentarily, at least until he positioned his body in such a way so he could slide into her when he wanted to. He loved that she couldn’t get enough of him.
Andrew, if he was honest with himself, had never made love before because he had never truly loved something before. Now, he couldn’t exactly say he was in love with the woman underneath him, but he most certainly could make love to her. He wanted to be gentle and passionate with her, wanted to ensure she was as satisfied with the sensual experience as he was. Whenever she climaxed, it was simply the most beautiful experience he had ever been a part of. The way her fingers scratched his back – he wanted nothing more than to be possessed by her.
He could live inside of her for as long as she would allow. It was a selfish thing to think, but he believed in some way, this woman was made solely for him. He didn’t want anybody else.
He was inside her now, enjoying the warmth her body offered. His arms were wrapped around her waist, his eyes heavy but firm as they watched Harleen writhe underneath him. Her body was so eager to match his, to feel him move inside her. He leaned down and claimed her lips once again as he began to move faster inside of her. With each thrust, Harleen felt her breath being stolen from her, quite literally, by Andrew. He took her air away from her, but it didn’t matter, because what he gave her, the pleasure he was inflicted on her body, fully made up for it.
It wasn’t long before both were panting but lying together, equally satisfied once more. Andrew always liked the feeling of Harleen in his arms after having sex, and so she was, her head resting on his shoulder, her eyes closed, her lips bruised, but a smile on her face nevertheless. The definition of perfection.
Falling for the Devil: Book 1 of the Gods & Monsters Trilogy Page 11