by Larissa Ione
“Because I’m an angel?”
“No,” he murmured. “Because you’re Suzanne.”
This time the noise she made wasn’t born of worry that she’d done something wrong. This time, it was because she’d done everything right, and as he carried her toward the bedroom, she wrapped her arms around him and settled against his chest, holding him tight.
Something inside him loosened at that moment. All the resistance that had hardened his heart when it came to relationships started to break apart like hard-packed snow on a mountain. An avalanche of affection crashed over him, and he knew that, after today, nothing would be the same.
Chapter Eighteen
Suzanne rested her head on Declan’s shoulder as he carried her to the bedroom. It felt good to hold her like this. If he correctly understood what she’d told him, she’d been a warrior for over fifty years, and she deserved a few hours of being a person.
“Hey, I have a question.” Declan pressed a kiss into her hair. “You guys do sleep, right?”
She covered up a delicate yawn that must have been invoked by the use of the s-word. “We don’t need it the same way humans do. We won’t go insane or die or anything, but sleep does help us regenerate. Personally, I love to sleep.”
He tucked her against him, and she wiggled up as close as she could get. “Good, because I think we might be needing the rest.”
“Are you worried about going back to the tattoo place?”
He stopped to draw the curtain on the south window. “It’s a little disconcerting that my tat was done by a non-human,” he admitted. “I want to know why. And what it’s done to me.”
“For what it’s worth,” she murmured, “I don’t get an evil vibe from it. But it’ll be interesting to get the story behind it.”
Interesting wasn’t the word he’d choose. Disturbing, maybe. But whatever. There was no sense stressing out about it. Yet.
He had tomorrow to do that.
Tonight he was going to take comfort in Suzanne. Thing was, he didn’t need sex. He wanted it, sure. But he’d be happy to just lie with her. To wake up with her and do the intimate things lovers did, from talk about movies to sharing fantasies.
This was all new for him. Not the sex, nor the fact that Suzanne was an angel. Although the angel thing was new, he supposed. It was the rest of it, the simply wanting to be with someone, that was unfamiliar.
He set her on the bed, but before he climbed in, he excused himself to brush his teeth. When he got back to the bedroom, he nearly swallowed his tongue.
Suzanne was reclining on top of the comforter in a skimpy, sheer blue baby doll nightie that left very little to the imagination.
“While you were in the bathroom I flashed to my room and brushed my teeth and changed.” She toyed with the lacy neckline, her fingers stroking the creamy skin above the swell of her breasts.
Breasts he was going to be tasting in about two seconds.
“Oh, and you might be interested to know that Memitim aren’t fertile until they Ascend.” A naughty smile ruffled the corners of her mouth. “So we don’t need condoms.”
Oh, hell, yeah.
He undressed in record time, his male ego soaking up how Suzanne watched him, hunger swirling in her mocha eyes.
As he climbed onto the bed, she welcomed him with a shy smile and open arms, the perfect picture of an angel and a temptress.
“Are you sure about this?” He paused as he hovered over her legs, not wanting to go any further if she needed more time.
“I’m three quarters of a century old, Declan. I think I know what I want by now.”
He slid one hand up her thigh, drawing a ragged breath from her. “Do you really?”
This time when she spoke it was with less confidence and more breathlessness. “Of course.”
“Then tell me. I’ll do anything you want.”
One skeptical eyebrow arched. “Anything?”
“If you can imagine it, Suzanne, I’ll do it.” He was counting on her not having too extreme of an imagination when it came to sex, in part because he planned to help her fill her sex chest of imagination, and in part because there were some lines he wouldn’t cross.
But there were a lot of lines he’d slide right up to.
Her eyes shot wide and a pink blush spread over her cheeks. Exactly as he’d thought. But he wasn’t ready to let her off the hook. If she was going to learn about sex, she was going to learn how to express her desires. She was a kitten now, but male instinct told him she’d be a tiger once she found her voice.
He wanted that tiger, and he heard himself growl with possessiveness as he eased his hand further up her thigh, until the tips of his fingers were brushing her panties.
“Well?” he prompted. “You want me to maybe tease your nipples?”
Shifting, he cupped one of her breasts through the fabric and circled her nipple with his thumb. The slightest catch in her breath through slightly parted lips spurred him on. She liked the dirty talk and the teasing. Good, because he liked it too.
“Do you want me to suck on it?”
“Yes,” she croaked.
“Say it.”
She shocked him by leaning forward and saying boldly, “I want you to put your mouth on my breast.” Then her vixen persona faded with a soft “Please?”
Yeah, they needed to work on the tiger thing.
Later.
Eagerly he lowered his mouth to her breast and took the nipple between his teeth, pinching just a little, enough to make her squirm, and then he laved it, dampening the material stretched across the areola. He wanted to chew right through the baby doll and suck her deep, but he could do that another time.
There was so much to show her.
“Oh, Declan,” she sighed as she arched into him, her hands coming up to caress his shoulders and stroke his back. Her fingers found the lines of the tattoo, and instant streaks of pleasure shot straight to his groin. Damn the erotic effect of that. He might actually be able to come from her touch.
“That feels so good,” he whispered against her skin.
“Mmm. So does that.”
Gently, he blew air across the wet fabric, loving how the cool contrast made her nipple pucker. He watched her expression as he rolled it between his fingers, the wonder in her eyes driving him crazy. It was clear she didn’t know her body that well, didn’t know how it reacted to someone else’s touch, and he wanted to be the one to show her.
Every inch of her body was going to know his, and only his, caress.
“What next, angel? Want me to kiss you all over? Kiss my way down your belly?”
She nodded. “Yes, please.”
He nearly laughed. So polite when what he was going to do to her would be anything but polite.
Shoving the baby doll up to expose her perfect, flat belly, he kissed a path from her breasts to her navel. She quivered as he rimmed it with his tongue, and his balls quivered with her. They felt heavy, achy, and if he didn’t get inside her soon, things were gonna start hurting.
He moved lower, spreading her legs as he went.
Suddenly, she jacked upright. “Wait.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just... I want to do that to you.”
His cock got all fucking excited as she gripped his shoulders and tugged him back up her body so he was straddling her, his knees in her armpits, his erection so close to her mouth he could feel her warm breath.
He expected her to be shy. But nope, his angel swallowed him whole without hesitation.
“Holy shit,” he shouted as she sucked him hard. Her mouth was hot and wet and perfect, the scrape of her teeth just rough enough to keep him from spilling down her throat.
Perfection.
Her tongue swirled around the crown of his cock before she licked her way down the shaft, and when she brought one hand up to fondle his sac, his entire body jerked reflexively. So she fondled harder.
That was when he decided she was no angel. Suzanne was a cruel succubus wh
o was going to end this before it began.
“Okay,” he said as he pulled from the hot depths of her mouth. “Your turn.” He backed his way down her body again, kissing her swollen lips on his way. “Don’t you want my mouth between your legs? My tongue pushing deep inside you as I taste every drop of your arousal?” He spread her with his fingers and inserted one into her core. “Or do you want this?” He pumped his finger in and out, spreading her cream through her sex. She was so ready for him. Shifting, he withdrew his finger and replaced it with the head of his cock. “Or this?”
“All of it,” she breathed, and he chuckled.
“You’re a greedy, naughty angel, aren’t you?”
She arched her back and pushed herself onto his cock. “Not naughty enough. Fuck me, Declan.”
Even as she said it, her voice cracked and her cheeks lit up with embarrassment. Being crude was not in her DNA, but she was trying, bless her heart, and he was already on edge, so he’d give her what she wanted.
But next time? Next time he was going to spend half an hour between her legs and make her come half a dozen times before he sank inside her gorgeous body.
Groaning at that thought, he plunged deep into her satin core. Her cry of satisfaction fueled his own passion. He planted his palms on either side of her head and hovered over her so he could watch every nuance in her expression. He wanted to see her teeth sink into her bottom lip the way she was doing now. And he definitely wanted to see the way her lips would part and her eyes would close when she reached climax. He’d missed all of that the first time, when she’d been facing away from him.
He wouldn’t miss that now.
Her legs came up to hook around his waist, drawing him closer as he pumped into her, hard and fast. She gripped him with her powerful thighs, forcing his rhythm into the one she wanted. He’d always been in control during sex, always guiding his partners in the direction he wanted. It wasn’t that he was selfish, unless being selfish meant making sure his partner climaxed first. There was nothing sexier than a woman deep in her passion, her soft cries urging him toward his own orgasm.
But Suzanne understood pleasure. Maybe not sexual pleasure, but being as tied to food as she was, she knew the power of satisfaction and she was taking the route she wanted. Forging her own path and making her own recipe.
As long as she tested those recipes on him, he could definitely deal. She was his now. His own personal chef, in and out of bed.
“D-Declan,” she gasped. “Declan!” Her shout rattled the walls, and oh, yeah, that expression on her face was what he’d been waiting for. Ecstasy was etched into her expression, her mouth falling open, the tendons in her neck straining as she arched, her fingernails digging deep into his back.
He pumped his hips even faster as his climax built like a storm in his shaft. It hit him with the force of a tempest, the energy spreading through his pelvis and up his spine, making him lose control like never before. He roared in ecstasy, calling out Suzanne’s name over and over.
Consciousness became fluid; he swore he was in and out a dozen times before the orgasm finally waned and he collapsed on top of her. Groaning, he buried his face in the crook of her shoulder and tried to catch his breath.
“That,” he said when he could finally speak, “was unbelievable.”
“Is that good?”
He’d have laughed if he’d had enough air in his lungs. “Yeah. Oh, yeah.”
He heard her yawn. “Declan?”
“Uh-huh?”
“Is it true that human males can only orgasm once?”
He lifted his head and caught her curious gaze. “Mostly. Why?”
“I was just wondering if we could do it again.”
Instant erection. Smiling, he punched his hips against her so she could feel what she’d just done to him.
“What do you think?”
Her slow, sleepy smile made him even harder. “I think I could do this all night.”
Growling with impatience, he gripped her hips and began to move, the wet sound of his cock sliding into her channel joining the soft creak of the mattress beneath them.
“So you’re an angel in the kitchen and a demon in bed,” he murmured against her lips. “You’re every man’s fantasy.”
“I only want to be one man’s fantasy,” she whispered.
Oh, yeah. She was the fantasy. His fantasy.
And the crazy thing was, she was also his reality.
Chapter Nineteen
The tattoo parlor looked like every other tattoo parlor Suzanne had ever seen. Which was precisely zero. Still, nothing stood out about it. Nothing screamed This Place Is Run By A Demon.
There was also nobody around, despite the open sign that hung from the window as they’d come through the door.
Inhaling the unmistakable scent of smudged sage, she looked around the shop, one wall covered in pictures of tattoos she assumed had been done here, another wall plastered with tattoo templates.
“You’re sure this was the place?” The fact that whoever worked here had used sage to cleanse and purify the space of negative or evil energy most likely meant that the artist wasn’t a demon. But Wraith had said he wasn’t human, either.
That still left a lot of possibilities, including shapeshifters, elves, werebeasts, faeries, vampires… The list was endless.
“Yup.” Declan moved around the shop like a predator, his right hand poised to shove aside the hem of his blue button-down and draw his weapon even though he knew—from the comics—that bullets were ineffective against a large percentage of supernatural beings. ”I was drunk as fuck, but I kept the business card the guy gave me because he wrote something weird on the back.”
She frowned. “What did he write?”
A deep voice boomed from behind them. “I wrote that if he should ever have any questions about the tattoo he should come back.”
An immense wave of power filled the building, stronger than anything she’d ever experienced outside her father’s realm. Instinctively she summoned her own power, holding it in her fingertips as she and Declan spun around to confront the newcomer.
Her jaw hit the floor and she couldn’t stop staring at the male who had emerged from a back room, his long, dark hair flowing over his T-shirt clad shoulders, his jeans and boots so different from the hooded robes she’d always seen him in. Hell, the only reason she recognized him was because of the intense vibe he gave off, one that was as unique as a signature.
“Jim Bob,” she whispered. “Holy shit.”
Declan looked between her and Jim Bob, his hand still hovering over his sidearm, which would be utterly useless against the male in front of them. “You know him?”
Jim Bob was a regular visitor of her father’s, and she was pretty sure he was some sort of spy. But where did his loyalties lie? With Heaven? With Sheoul-gra? With another party?
“Go ahead.” Jim Bob gestured to Declan. “Tell him.”
She didn’t take her eyes off Jim Bob as she spoke. “He’s an angel.”
Declan’s gaze raked the angel from head to toe. “And his name’s Jim Bob?”
“Not...really.” She had no idea what his angelic name was. Her father had a habit of giving his spies ridiculous code names. Jim Bob. Ricky Bobby. A new one called Cletus. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later. But he’s definitely an angel.”
“Like you?”
Jim Bob’s deep laughter echoed through the small space. “No Memitim is like me.”
Annoyed, she translated Jim Bob’s insult. “He was born a Heavenly angel,” she explained. “He probably belongs to one of the Orders at the top of the hierarchy. They think they’re better than us.”
Jim Bob didn’t even try to deny it. “Given that you’re both here and that Declan is clearly aware of our existence, I’m guessing you have some questions about the tattoo.”
“Yeah.” Declan stepped forward to take a brochure off the counter, but when he turned back to speak to Jim Bob she realized he’d intentional
ly put himself between her and the big angel. He had to know that Jim Bob could crush him with his pinky finger, yet Declan didn’t seem fazed. It was so cute. And halo-meltingly hot. “What, exactly, does the tattoo do, and why did you give it to me?”
Jim Bob didn’t move, but the door behind them locked and the OPEN sign in the window flipped to CLOSED. Suzanne watched with envy; she’d never been able to manipulate objects like that, but some of her siblings could. He gestured to a small table with three chairs in the corner. Declan relaxed a little, but Suzanne noticed he still chose a seat that allowed him to keep an eye on the door.
“A man named Gareth brought you in,” Jim Bob said once they were all seated. “You worked with him.”
“He was a member of my team, yes.” Declan’s voice went hoarse. “He was killed not long after we were here.”
Jim Bob snorted. “He wasn’t killed.”
“I fucking watched him die.” Declan gripped the table top so hard his knuckles turned white. “I was there. I couldn’t save him.”
“You couldn’t save him because he wasn’t human,” Jim Bob said calmly. “He’s an angel. Alive and well and inserting himself into human business in…I want to say…Norway? Maybe Finland?” He shrugged. “In any case, it’s a good thing he likes fish.”
“What?” Declan rocked back in his seat. “I can’t believe this,” he said, his voice a mix of surprise and relief. “He let me think he was dead. And human. That asshole.”
“He’s a Nephunter,” Jim Bob said. “He’s an angel assigned to find humans with angelic DNA.”
Interesting. Suzanne hadn’t known that there were angels specifically assigned to find humans who had angel blood in their family trees. But then, there was a lot she didn’t know about the goings-on in Heaven. And frankly, she didn’t care. Let people like Hawkyn deal with the inner workings of angelic business.
“But why?” Declan asked, apparently still so shocked by the fact that his buddy was not only alive but an angel that he hadn’t realized that Gareth must have zeroed in on Declan.
“They might prove to be valuable in the inevitable war between good and evil,” Jim Bob explained. “That’s why he was on your team. He was watching you. Sizing you up.” He shrugged. “And stealing your blood when you weren’t looking.”