Archangel of Mercy

by Christina Ashcroft

  Now both arms were stretched above her head and she’d never felt so wantonly vulnerable in her life. She curled her toes to try and focus. If Gabe wasn’t on the edge then she’d be damned if she’d let him know how close she was.

  And then his words tumbled into some form of coherence. He might have done all this before, but she was the first he’d used stockings with. It was sad to find that so arousing but she did because it meant this was new for him, too. Even if only by the tiniest of detail.

  “I suppose you have handcuffs and ropes and . . . things in your bedside drawer.” The words spilled from her lips in a crazy torrent as Gabe stood and began to peel off his pants. She crossed her ankles in a vain attempt to control her body’s reaction to the sight. It didn’t work.

  He kicked his pants aside and hooked his thumbs into the midnight boxers that did nothing to disguise the mesmerizing extent of his erection.

  “No, but if ropes and handcuffs are your thing I’ll see what I can do.”

  Spellbound, she couldn’t drag her fascinated gaze from his groin. She knew she was practically salivating, knew Gabe’s ego was probably inflating to impossible proportions because of her fascination. But she couldn’t help herself. How much longer was he just going to stand there, tormenting her? Why wouldn’t he rip off his boxers and finish what he’d started?

  “So what do you usually use then?” Oh god, he was finally inching his boxers over his hips. Her mouth dried, lungs seized up and her fingers clenched and unclenched in a futile attempt to reach out and touch.

  “Whatever comes to hand.” The grin he arrowed her way was evil incarnate. “I can improvise if pushed.”

  She tugged on her restraints. “I noticed. I suppose you’ve had a lot of practice doing that here—secluded island, no interruptions . . .”

  A shadow darkened his eyes as if her comment was unexpected.

  “No.” He sounded oddly reluctant. “Not here. I don’t bring women here.”

  Before she could make any sense of that he turned and marched from the room. He had a perfectly proportioned butt, tight and sexy, and his powerful bronzed legs were a sculptor’s delight. She let a muffled sigh escape as he disappeared through the doors.

  Then she stiffened as the realization hit. He’d walked out on her. What was she supposed to do now? What had she talked herself into?

  Chapter Eighteen

  AND then he was back, striding toward her across the room, his gaze as intense and his body as irresistible as ever. Her lips parted in a soundless question. Where did you go? But the words floated in a haze as the answer hovered on the horizon.

  He’d probably just taken care of protection. But even as the thought whispered through her mind, even as her drugged gaze slipped to his groin, doubt scraped along her senses in discordant unease.

  His glorious erection remained unsheathed. And a wicked-looking dagger glinted in his hand.

  Her heart pounded and she reared off the bed, struggling futilely against her restraints. He stood over her like a conquering barbarian: naked, aroused and holding a deadly dagger.

  He straddled her with ease, despite her flailing legs, and sat on her thighs. The weight was enough to immobilize her but not enough to hurt. It was also, infuriatingly, more than enough to cause renewed tremors of desire to spiral through her sensitized core.

  “Miss me?” He brushed her hair from her face. She wanted to swipe his hand away. She wanted to wrap her legs around his waist. Most of all she wanted this crazy lust vanquished so she could once again think clearly.

  “Untie me.” Her voice was raw. The thought of bondage might have been exciting, but in reality the loss of mobility was . . . frightening.

  “I will.” His finger trailed along her face, over her throat and traced the frayed edge of her tiny leather top. Then he raised the dagger. “Trust me.”

  Was that a question or a demand? She stared, hypnotized, as he lowered the dagger to her breasts and a whimper escaped. Shouldn’t she be terrified?

  But it wasn’t terror that caused her ragged breathing or liquid heat to bloom between her thighs. Because despite how she’d changed her mind over the whole bondage idea the last thing she wanted was for Gabe to stop . . . whatever he was doing.

  “Aurora.” He savored her name as if it was an exotic treat. “Do you trust me?”

  It was a question. She struggled to remember all the reasons why Gabe was the last person in the world she should trust. And couldn’t.

  And it didn’t matter. Because no matter how bizarre the conviction, deep in the fundamental essence of her psyche, she did trust him.

  “Yes.” It was surrender, yet felt like a benediction. As if, against all perceptions, it was not Gabe who held ultimate power in this game.

  Something flickered in his eyes, an emotion too fleeting to comprehend, but she had the strangest sensation that he hadn’t expected her unhesitating acceptance. He didn’t say anything, didn’t break eye contact, but she felt the tip of the blade slice through the leather as if it were silk.

  He peeled the severed leather over her breasts, leaving her exposed to his gaze. But still he looked into her eyes, and despite the fact she was tethered to his bed and that he pinned her beneath his powerful body, it was the mesmeric beauty of his irises that held her truly captive.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d imagine your silence was due to reverential awe at the skill of my magnificent dagger.” His voice was smoky and curled around her senses like a potent aphrodisiac.

  Her mouth was dry and the echo of her heart fluttered erratically in her throat. It was hard to breathe, impossible to think, but still a breathless laugh escaped.

  “Your dagger is pretty”—she momentarily lost her train of thought as he leaned forward so his erection teased the swollen lips of her pussy—“big. Amazing,” she corrected hastily as he began to grin, and then realized that wasn’t the right word either. “Egotistical,” she sighed, and stirred restlessly beneath his imprisoning weight.

  The tip of his nose brushed hers. A featherlight touch, hardly a touch at all, and yet the pit of her stomach knotted with an absurd pleasure that bordered on pain.

  “How gratifying to know my weapon meets with your approval.”

  His breath against her mouth was an erotic caress. She wanted to spear her fingers through his hair, wind her arms around his shoulders and drag him onto her ready body. But still he maintained a whisper of distance between his chest and her aching breasts. And there was nothing she could do because she was . . . tethered.

  A delicious shiver raced over her arms, across her breasts and circled her nipples. His eyes darkened, as if he could sense the shift in her arousal, and then he sucked one ripe nipple into his mouth.

  She clenched her fists and arched her back in a futile effort to assert control. He cupped her breast, held her firm and suckled hard, and spirals of agonizing pleasure ignited between her erect nipple and sensitized clit.

  He transferred his attention to her other breast, licking and sucking and dragging his teeth across her flesh. The sensual onslaught was like nothing she’d experienced or had dreamed before. His fingers stroked and caressed and his mouth and tongue were instruments of sweet torture.

  “Killing me,” she managed to gasp as she clung onto the fishnets as if they were an anchor to sanity.

  Gabe raised his head, his jaw still grazing her tender flesh. “Thought that was your plan for me.” His voice rasped and he sent her another one of his sinful smiles. “Don’t die yet. I haven’t finished.” He inched farther down her body, and she felt the tip of the dagger slice through the skirt before he flung the ruined garment onto the floor.

  He rose to his knees and she saw him looking at her, but right now she didn’t care how cheap and nasty the crotchless G-string was. Because the expression on Gabe’s face caused a fierce pain in her heart as the knowledge punched through her that he found her irresistible.

  An archangel.

  Another ragged gasp esca
ped and between her thighs wet heat trickled. She knew the G-string covered next to nothing. Knew Gabe must see how desperately aroused she was. And still she didn’t care.

  “I will die,” she croaked, tugging mindlessly on her restraints, “if you don’t hurry up.”

  Without taking his gaze from her wantonly exposed crotch he slowly peeled the G-string over her hips, then in one swift glint of metal the last of the leather ripped from her body.

  “I don’t do hurry up.” But even as he spoke he roughly kneed her thighs apart, the savage gleam in his eyes denying his words.

  Legs free at last, Aurora wrapped herself around him, rising off the bed to plaster her groin against his rigid cock. God, it felt so good and she squirmed helplessly, frantic with need, mindless with primal lust. He let out a hiss and his hands smashed down on either side of her head, bracing his weight. His tangled hair framed his face, his tautly muscled shoulders filled her world and the head of his erection nudged her swollen clit.

  “Archangel.” Barely aware she’d spoken aloud, the evocative image spilled through her mind. “Gabriel.” She dragged out each syllable, savoring the taste of his name on her tongue.

  He growled a curse in his own language—surely it was a curse by the wild look in his eyes—and slid the head of his cock over her wet slit. The exquisite pressure teased and probed but did not penetrate, no matter how she squirmed.

  “You want something, Aurora?” He panted into her face, looking nothing like an archangel and every inch a hedonistic demon of pleasure.

  “Yes.” Her fingers clawed in useless frustration and she glared up at him. “Yes.”

  “What is it you want?” Again he dragged his engorged shaft across her sensitized lips and her womb quivered with agonizing anticipation. “My cock inside you? Is that what you want?”

  She dug her heels into his butt, her muscles straining with the effort of bending him to her will. But he was as hard as iron and as immovable as a mountain.

  “Yes.” God, had she screamed? And did she even care?

  His mouth all but touched hers, their erratic breath mingling, their gazes meshed as one.

  “Tell me. Say the words.” It was a growl, an erotic command, and primal need scalded her blood. She’d never articulated her desires before. But the thought of doing so now, to Gabe, was overwhelmingly seductive.

  “I want your cock inside me.”

  His eyes glittered with heightened lust and raw power sizzled through her veins. She’d never imagined saying such a thing could be so . . . liberating.

  “And?” He sounded rabid and she stared up at him, uncomprehending. “What else do you want me to do, Aurora? Tell me.”

  She flicked the tip of her tongue over her dry lips and saw how he watched, hypnotized.

  “I want you to . . .” The word lodged in her throat, a crazy inhibition that had no place in a world inhabited by angels and demons and cold-hearted goddesses. “Fuck me. Hard and fast and I want it now.”

  He thrust into her so hard and fast the breath stalled in her lungs and she wheezed incoherently, fingers clenching and toes curling. Sensation consumed her, a pulsing maelstrom of friction and flesh and harsh, hot breaths. His brutal possession enslaved her body and shattered her mind, as his cock invaded her willing sheath and his balls slammed against her tender flesh.

  “Damn.” His intense gaze scorched as he panted against her lips. “You’re a good fuck, Aurora. You’re so tight and hot. It’s fucking insane.”

  Words hammered in her mind but she’d forgotten how to speak, forgotten how to think. All that mattered was the man, the archangel, between her thighs, who looked at her with such focused intensity and who fucked her as if the world was about to end.

  And then the world did end. In a cascading torrent of pure sensation that consumed and ignited in simultaneous delirium. And without even realizing it, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on tight as he rammed into her and came with ecstatic abandon.

  Chapter Nineteen

  EYES closed, breath scorching his lungs, Gabe’s muscles slowly relaxed. Aurora was soft and warm beneath him, her arms still clasped around his shoulders, and it felt oddly right.

  Idly, he played with her hair, enjoying the feel of her heart hammering against his chest, the uneven gasps of breath against his throat and the tremors that raced through her body at satisfyingly frequent intervals. He breathed in deep, savoring the scent of woman, of sex and the unique flavor that was Aurora and waited for the inevitable fissure of disconnection. But the usual disinterest to prolong any kind of contact after orgasm didn’t wash through him. No overpowering need to untangle limbs and sink into his own private space thudded through the post-euphoric haze. And his cock, still buried inside her tight cleft, stirred. Again.

  He should have known once—twice—would never be enough to sate the madness in his blood when it came to Aurora. She aggravated him too much, fascinated him too much to be cleansed from his system so easily.

  But that still didn’t answer the fundamental question of why he continued to lie here, in the aftermath. He was content to wind her hair around his finger, breathe in her evocative scent and enjoy how she clung to him as her erratic breaths gradually calmed.

  “You untied me.” She sounded drowsy, sated and slightly surprised. As if she hadn’t expected him to cut her loose in the moments before they’d come.

  He didn’t know why he had. It had been an instinctive action. Certainly had nothing to do with wanting to feel her arms around him because why would he want that?

  Her fingers caressed his shoulders, perilously close to where his wings had once been. Females without number had touched, kissed and licked him there. But they ultimately ignored the question as to why and how an archangel could possibly lose his wings.

  He knew Aurora conformed to no such unspoken etiquette. But gods, he didn’t want to shatter this strange sense of peace by once again deflecting her curiosity.

  She slid her fingers into his hair, caressed the nape of his neck. A gentle, soothing gesture, but instead of enhancing the abnormal warmth curling around the left side of his chest a dark, alien sensation twisted deep in his gut.

  Muscles tightened and he lifted his head enough so he could see her face. Her eyes were half closed, her cheeks flushed and a small smile tilted her lips. She looked satisfied and happy and why that combination heightened his unease he had no idea. But it did.

  Wouldn’t it be better for her to fall for him, considering she had no option but to stay with him for the rest of her life? That had to be better than having a woman who hated the sight of him and threw verbal abuse his way every time they crossed paths.

  But that tiny coil of panic continued to twist deep inside. He didn’t want her to fall. Didn’t want to witness her inevitable slide into bitterness and recrimination when she finally realized that he’d never return her feelings. Because unlike other lovers who’d made that fatal mistake, this time he couldn’t just walk away. He was stuck with Aurora for as long as she lived.

  The panic—an outrageous emotion for an archangel to experience—spiked deeper. But he might as well confront the issue now. If she made unreasonable demands on his time when he no longer desired her, his only alternative was exile from his own island.

  Slowly she opened her eyes and looked up at him. The devastating terror that had consumed her in the seconds as he’d brought her back had vanished. No matter how unorthodox his methods at least they’d worked. She’d been so distracted by his seduction her sanity had failed to tip into the abyss.

  Equally, there was no awe of his status in her sultry gaze. She looked at him as if they were equal. As if this crazy interlude meant something more than primal sex.

  What was he waiting for? Any other time, with any other woman, he’d already be telling her how things were. But somehow he couldn’t shatter this moment with the truth.

  “Gabe.” Her voice was as seductive as her eyes. He heaved himself up onto his hands, willi
ng her to remain silent. With another mortal he’d not even hesitate to enter her mind and manipulate her into compliance. But this was Aurora. And he couldn’t bend her to his will in such a way. A shudder inched along his spine as he realized he didn’t even want to.

  “Not now.” With more reluctance than he cared to admit he withdrew from her enticing body and rolled onto his back beside her. “Go to sleep.”

  She wriggled onto her side, flattened her hand over his chest and pushed herself up. He closed his eyes so he didn’t have to see her. So she’d realize this conversation was over before it could even begin.

  “Gabe,” she said again, completely ignoring his attempts at saving the fragile construct of her heart. “There’s something we have to discuss.”

  “There isn’t.” To underline his point he flung his arm across his eyes and hoped she now took the hint. He didn’t feel like having an argument. If he was honest he wanted to have her again, but to hell with that. He wasn’t a slave to the lust Aurora aroused in him.

  “It’s important.” She leaned against him and her breath drifted across his jaw, as if she was gazing down at his face. “At least it is to me.”

  This strategy wasn’t working. He rolled on top of her once again, pinning her to the bed. He’d managed to save her sanity already this night. It would be no problem seducing her once again so she forgot about her declarations of love and devotion.

  “Be quiet.” His mouth grazed hers and his cock hardened in anticipation. Maybe this was the answer. Fucking her into compliance until she was too damn exhausted to think never mind speak.

  “We might have got away with it twice,” she said with an edge of panic. “But it’s really pushing our luck three times.”

  Irritated that she’d managed to snare his interest with her bizarre comment he raised his head and frowned down at her.

  “What are you talking about?” It didn’t sound like a confession of love to him. And he’d been on the receiving end of some pretty strange ones over the centuries. “Got away with what?”