Only One I'll Have (UnHallowed Series Book 4)

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Only One I'll Have (UnHallowed Series Book 4) Page 24

by Tmonique Stephens


  Ellen threw her a kiss and waved her away. Sophie collected the dinner tray from the bedroom and took it to the kitchen. The first level of the house was deserted, but voices echoed from the open basement door. One guess what the topic of conversation was.

  She returned to her bedroom and walked into the bathroom. Sure enough, the same tub sat under a bay window. One could bathe and watch the stars all at the same time. She found bubble bath in a cabinet. It didn’t take long for the tub to fill and the scent of freesia to linger in the air. Every muscle sighed in bliss when she submerged up to her chin.

  She rested her head on the rim, wishing she could steal her mother’s pillow, and closed her eyes. In the end, a lack of a bath pillow didn’t take away from the enjoyment. “God, this is exactly what I needed.”

  “Is that all you need?”

  Much like the water, his voice touched all parts of her. She opened one eye and peered at him. He stood in the doorway. Six feet four inches of everything she desired. “Nope. I need my back washed.”

  A dangerous grin spread across his face as he came forward with a predatory stride. By the time he reached her, he’d tugged off his shirt with a hard yank to the back of his neck. His chest: two slabs of muscle. His abs: deep ridges of stacked muscles all the way down the resplendent V at his hips. She heard the thud of his boots landing somewhere in the room, all done with an economy of movement that screamed, You asked for it. Then came his belt, and the button on his jeans, and then the zipper. Her breath caught at the measured reveal of everything she wanted to touch, lick, fuck, and didn’t release when he stepped into the tub.

  Slowly, all that glorious muscle vanished beneath the bubbles as he settled his body at the opposite end of the tub.

  Damn. Her mother was right, the tub was big enough for an orgy. Chay was a mile away, though that was easy to remedy. She came to him, carefully moving the bubbles and water out of her way. When she got close, she swiveled, and backed her ass up the rest of the way. Her back to his chest. Her butt to his… Oh my.

  His cock was wedged between their bodies, touching the middle of her spine when she sank between his spread thighs. She wanted it inside her. She had plans for his dick, but not yet.

  Sophie handed him a sponge. “Get to work.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” With the gentlest of touch, the sponge smoothed over her shoulders, followed by the press of his lips to her flesh. The sponge glided down her back, soothing her. Time floated away as he touched her with such tender reverence. She lay back in his arms, her chin level with the water, head pillowed on his pecs, more at rest than she’d ever been.

  “You’re gonna prune.”

  Startled, her eyes popped open. She was still in the tub, still in his arms. “How long was I out?”

  “About an hour.”

  “An hour and the water is still warm?” Though the bubbles were gone.

  “I kept it warm for you.” He kissed her nape and asked, “When was the last time you had a good night’s sleep.”

  Should she tell him the truth? What the hell. “Not since I left Detroit.”

  He wrapped his arms around her middle and hugged her. “Let’s get you to bed.”

  She spun in his arms, sloshing water here and there. “Not yet.” He lay back, arms on the rim, the wet ends of his hair floating on the surface of the water, his eyes half-lidded, watching her.

  Crimson teased his pewter irises as she cupped his cheeks and let herself float. “I want you.” She traced her tongue over his lips.

  “Then have me.” His voice was low, sultry, and edged with a sharp need she completely understood.

  Sophie twined her arms around his neck and pulled herself in, until her body was flush against his, between them his cock was ready. She braced her feet on opposite sides of him, held onto his shoulders, and rode the length of his shaft. His eyes rolled back, and his head hit the rim. Lightly, she raked her nails down his neck to his flat nipples. She stroked the tight buds. He groaned, a deep rumble in his chest and lifted his head to watch her. She brought her mouth to the peak, licking and sucking on it while strumming the other.

  Sophie looked up, locked onto the heat igniting in the recesses of his eyes.

  Another stroke up his shaft and a thrust, she buried him inside of her. She stilled as her muscles stretched to accommodate him. Was there anything better than this? This wounding fullness that, initially, soothed the hollow ache until—

  Chay flexed his hips. Pleasure snaked through her and faded much too quickly. With a roll of her hips, she focused on the pleasure and nothing else. Chased it down with relentless intent. Chay’s grip didn’t move from the rim of the tub, his silent approval to do as she wished. She set the tempo, the rise and fall of her hips, the clench of her inner muscles on his flesh, the intensity of the down stroke, until he could take no more.

  Water sloshed onto the floor as he surged forward, her ass in his rough hands, though not for long. Her ass landed on the cool rim of the bay window over the tub. He spread her wide, wedged his shoulders between her legs to keep her that way. She draped her legs over his shoulders to keep him that way.

  He put his mouth to her and gave her a long, slow lick. A moan tore from her throat, one she was sure the entire house heard. The scrape of his beard cleared her mind of rational thought. Instinct drove her to rock her hips into each lick, her movement kinetic, frenzied.

  She was close, so close. Her fingers worked their way into his hair, threaded through the dense length to hold him to her. His tongue flicked over her clit, again and again. Pleasure beat at her until she was one raw nerve on fire.

  He inserted a finger between her slick folds and she was done. Exclamation point. She broke apart in pieces, brain one jigsaw piece, heart, body, soul other pleasure drenched pieces.

  Chay yanked his hair free of her hands, plucking more than a few strands, and climbed up her body… With his tongue. He wrung another moan from her as he swept over her sex, her lower abdomen, a wicked flick to her belly button, a nip to the underside of her left breast. He tortured her nipple with a twirl of his tongue over the tip. Then, he looked up.

  His face was drawn in sharp, unforgiving lines of stark need, and crimson swallowed his pewter eyes. And his lips were wet, from her.

  “Come for me, again,” he commanded and fisted her hair. He positioned himself at her core and inched into her on a long breath they both took. Stretched, filled, she basked in the sensation while Chay closed his eyes and moaned.

  His jaw clenched, as if the strain was too great, he withdrew as slowly as he entered, then slammed home. His eyes flipped open and his hot gaze locked onto her. Something wild was alive within his gaze, and it was contagious.

  He pounded into her sex, relentlessly pushing her toward another climax. She wrapped her legs around his pistoning hips and urged him on. She wanted all he had to give, and then more.

  “More,” she cried, and held on when he lifted her off the ledge and pinned her to the wall. All she could do was feel, his strength as he held her aloft, his passion as his mouth found hers with a raw kiss, and his flesh, cleaving into her, bringing her more pleasure than she’d ever conceived.

  Panting, she tried to hold off the inevitable. Her core clenched anew, obeying his order to come again. She was lost, utterly lost in the bliss of him thrusting into her and the pleasure streaking through every nerve ending. Arching into the ecstasy, her head fell back and if it weren’t for Chay’s hold, she would’ve fallen. She came hard, in a blinding flash of pleasure. A scream broke from her throat. Chay swallowed her next cry and continued to drive into her.

  Slowly, the fine edge of pleasure ebbed, leaving behind a euphoric lingering bliss. She had the sense of him shifting her, returning her to the ledge, even though Chay still palmed her ass.

  Tilted at an angle, she opened her eyes to see the sky, a velvet carpet sprinkled with stars, on the other side of the window. She didn’t reach for them because she was already in heaven. Chay had already taken
her there.

  She raised her head and found him, hunched over her. Muscles straining over skin that seemed to be stretched too tight, a shudder raked him, and his entire body seized. His grip moved to her hips, turned bruising. He hadn’t come.

  Chay was still hard.

  He pushed into her deeper, harder. Watching him surge into her, his incredible body clenching and releasing, the fine sheen of water clinging to his skin—Yes! She rocked her hips, met him thrust for thrust. He found her clit with his thumb and rubbed.

  Once again, she unraveled, coming so hard the stars left the sky to plant themselves behind her eyelids.

  “Sophie!” Her name was nothing more than a guttural groan. He slammed into her and stayed. She felt him, deep within, the hot spurts, the hard spasms of his flesh.

  His fingers softened on her flesh. His kiss to her throat was tender, lingering, and then he brought her head up and their gazes mingled. The crimson faded from his eyes, leaving the pewter irises she loved. There was something in those eyes and in the tension on his face. She felt it, this thing between them that wouldn’t die. It lived and breathed, had tentacles that had latched on and refused to give.

  She brushed her fingers over his scruffy beard and brought him in for a kiss. She wasn’t ready for everything she saw in his eyes, not yet. The tenderness of his lips spoke of his understanding, then she was lifted off the ledge and out of the tub. He dried her with a heated towel waiting on a rack, and carried her to bed.

  “I should check on Mom.” She struggled to sit up after he slid her between the cool sheets and tucked her to his side.

  Chay held on to her, though his focus was on the adjoining wall. “She’s already in bed with her oxygen tank next to her.”

  “I didn’t know you could do that, see through walls. Is that new since Siberia?”

  “No. This is not a talent I use often. Now, sleep.”

  She stroked his beard and kissed him slowly. Before anything else could start, she snuggled into his chest. “There’s the bossy Chay. I wondered when he’d show up.”

  Chay pinched her butt, making her squeal. “Smart ass.” Then he wrapped his arms around her, molded her to his front. She was safe, warm, loved.

  “What about the Crossroad demon?” she murmured, sleep stalking her.

  His sigh ruffled her hair and teased her skin. He pressed a kiss to her nape, nuzzled her, which tipped her further into the land of dreams. “Tomorrow,” he murmured. “We’ll talk about that tomorrow.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  This was the fifth time zone they’d traveled to. To clarify, the fifth time zone and the fifth crossroad that intersected with ley lines. Twelve hours they’d been at this. Twelve hours were nothing to an immortal, except when one waited for something to fucking happen!

  Chay paced from one side of the road to the other, his patience non-existent. Kushiél, Gadreel, Rimmon, Bane, Gideon, Ioath, Tahariél, Zedekiél, and even Sammiél and Daeden had taken time away from whatever they had going to be present. The gang was all here, and they all kept out of Chay’s way.

  He didn’t need his phone to check the time, but he checked it anyway. Not for a read on the digital display, but the text that came through.

  Sophie: Better have a good reason for avoiding me all day.

  Smiling, Chay typed back: Will make it up to you tonight. In bed.

  “Ah, sweet love,” Rimmon grumbled.

  Zed snorted around the toothpick perched in the corner of his mouth. “Must be nice.”

  Chay didn’t break away from studying the screen. “Yes. It. Is.”

  “Ignore Mr. and Mrs. Bitterness.” Bane walked over and patted Chay on the shoulder. “You deserve this happiness. Don’t let anyone take that from you.”

  No one and nothing would. He was determined nothing would touch a hair on Sophie’s head without severe consequences.

  “This routine is getting old.” Zed worked the toothpick to the opposite side of his mouth.

  “You have some place more important to be? A particular alley missing you?” Riél chuckled, referring to Zed’s homeless gig.

  Zed mimicked Riél’s chuckle. “You telling me you don’t have a whore primed for your UnHallowed cock, waiting for your return?” Referring to Riél’s constant need for sex.

  Riél’s cream-colored wings appeared and arched over his shoulders in a show of aggression. Crimson flooded his eyes. “They’re not whores.”

  Zed held up his hands in false surrender. “Working girls, ladies of the night, neighborhood hospitality crew? They come into my alley so much I need to charge rent.”

  Kushiél edged closer to Riél, prepared to step between the two. All Riél did was smile, which caused Zed to move his toothpick again and eye Riél warily.

  Riél canted his head to the side and hooked his thumbs in his jean pockets. “Don’t worry, Zed. I’ll put in a good word for you so one of them will throw some pussy your way.”

  Zed’s response was lost when someone shouted. “Incoming.” Chay spun in time to see shadows spring from the lamppost.

  Thank you, Father. Something to bloody. Happy for the distraction, Chay’s empyreal sword settled in his palm as he shoved his phone into his coat pocket. Then he realized it could only be an UnHallowed.

  Razuel stepped free of the shadows to lean against the lamppost. His stance relaxed as he folded his arms across his chest. His attire, gray slacks and a sweater, complimented his blond hair and beard. Scarla’s fashion sense had rubbed off on him and kicked in at the most inappropriate times. His cold blue eyes landed on each of them. “Having a party and no one invited me?”

  Everyone kept their traps shut. Razuel, formerly the Keeper of God’s Secrets. Now that he no longer kept God’s secrets, he plumbed everyone else’s. All he needed was an in.

  “What brings you out of the shadows, Razuel? We haven’t seen you since Malphas stole the Cruor.” Sam took the lead.

  Chay’s gaze cut to Sam. Something about him was off. As usual, his blank face gave nothing away. It was his emotions leaking onto their shared connection which gave it away.

  “I’m finished sulking.” Razuel’s gaze darted between Sammiél and Daeden. He stroked his beard in thoughtful silence. “You consort with Reapers now?”

  Sam arched a single eyebrow, which spoke of his ire almost more than actual words. “One should consort with the people he leads.”

  How did Razuel know Daeden was a reaper when he wasn’t shrouded and hadn’t said a word, Chay wanted to know.

  “Additionally, we’re old friends. Ten millennia are long enough for a grudge,” Sam said through gritted teeth.

  Razuel straightened as if someone goosed his ass. Crimson bled into the blue of his eyes. His head cocked to the side and he pointed at each of them. “Why… How do you all have empyreal swords?” he hissed.

  Chay’s phone beeped. This time it was his clock letting him know midnight had arrived. Dealing with Razuel would have to wait. “Ioath! Recite the chant.”

  Ioath moved into the yellow circle of light cast off by the weak lamppost and began reciting the words to bring forth a Crossroad Demon. The wind kicked up, stirring autumn leaves from their resting places. The light flickered, and thunder rolled in from the west. This reaction was more than they’d received any of the previous times. It was gonna work, finally.

  “What are you doing?” Razuel reached for Ioath.

  Chay snatched Razuel away by his cashmere sweater. “You’re late to the party, so shut the fuck up. Behave and we’ll fill you in later.” Chay shoved him toward Kush and Zed, who wedged Razuel between them.

  The ground shook. Another unusual occurrence when calling forth a Crossroad Demon. Even though they were in a rural area in the hills of the Gunma prefecture in north Tokyo, the 7.0 on the Richter scale activity would draw the authorities. Nothing he and the rest of the UnHallowed couldn’t handle.

  He was antsy, that’s why his thoughts rambled. He needed to get back to Sophie. To touch her, ki
ss her, make sure she was safe. Where was this fucking demon? His gaze bore into Ioath as the former Archangel of Demons finished the chant. The wind died as quickly as it had kicked up, along with the ground rumbling.

  Aaaanddd…still no demon.

  “Where is it!” Chay demanded.

  Ioath grunted. “It’s fighting me. There’s something else I can try—”

  “Do it!” Chay ordered.

  Ioath turned on Chay, got in his face. Nearly equal in height, the promise of violence fouled the air. “You don’t order me! I’m not your fuckin’ lackey. I do this, it weakens me, so a little damn appreciation.”

  Gideon wedged himself between the two. “Do what you need to, Ioath. Anything you can.”

  Ioath spun away. He gave everyone his back and spread his hands wide, then dropped to one knee. He sliced his palm on the edge of his blade and squeezed. Black blood threaded with a ribbon of gold dripped onto the blacktop. The faint trace of an unmistakable scent filled the air. Razuel gasped but managed to seal his lips again as Ioath used his fingers to trace runic symbols onto the roadway.

  The task completed, he dragged the tip of his sword through the symbols. Sparks flew, igniting them. Flames rose ten feet in the air and threw off enough heat to melt a polar cap. Chay shielded his eyes from the intensity of the blaze but didn’t move as the flames took a form. In the middle of the conflagration, a figure emerged. Male. Heavyset.

  Chay leapt into the middle of the blaze and hauled the demon out. He tossed him to the ground and kept him there at the end of his blade. “You are not the one I want. That doesn’t mean I won’t kill you. And if I falter, one of my brothers won’t.” He waited as the Crossroad demon eyed the rest of the UnHallowed. He was dark skinned with equally dark eyes and hair cropped close to his scalp. Attractive, probably to appeal to the ladies. He had a goth look with a Fu Manchu; sleeveless, black, leather tee; and tatts all over his arms and scrawny chest with a smatter of pubic hair on it. But it was his aura that Chay locked onto. Fear leeched off the demon in palpable waves.

 

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