by Larissa Ione
He took her down to the wet sand, where tiny waves lapped at her skin as he positioned himself over her. This was different than it had been in the library, when he’d been wracked with emotion he couldn’t control. Now he was using his cool self-restraint to devastating effect, kissing and nibbling down her neck as he rocked slowly between her legs, his shaft sliding between her folds in languid thrusts.
She clung to him, digging her nails into his shoulders as he dragged his mouth lower to kiss her breasts and lave the stiff peaks with his tongue. Closing his mouth over one, he sucked, drawing upward with such delicious pressure that she groaned and arched, seeking more and at the same time, thinking it was way too much.
“I love how you respond to me,” he murmured against her skin. “I love the sounds you make. The way you smell.” He pushed her breasts together and licked up the deep valley between them. “The way you taste.”
A gentle wave pushed between their bodies, lapping at the hot place where their bodies met, and she groaned again.
“If we had time, I’d lick you everywhere,” he said, giving each breast a kiss. “But I can do that later.”
She couldn’t wait, but he was right. They had only minutes now, and she was anxious to feel him deep inside her, to know what his weight would feel like as he pumped against her.
“Please,” she whispered. “I’m so ready.” A sudden thought popped into her lust-soaked brain, and she gripped him fiercely. “Protection?”
He dragged his tongue up between her breasts. “I can turn my fertility on and off.” He gave her a cocky smile. “It’s one of the advantages of being me.”
“Very handy,” she admitted before giving his hair a playful tug. “Now, show me some more advantages.”
“You got it.” Reaching between their bodies, he guided his cockhead to her entrance. “This will hurt, sweetheart,” he said. “But only for a second.” He planted a gentle kiss on her lips. “If I could bear it for you, I would.”
Tears stung her eyes. How could a male with such a fierce reputation be so caring? Azagoth was constantly surprising her, and she wondered how many more he had in store for her.
“I’m pretty tough,” she croaked.
“That,” he said softly, “is very clear.”
He brought his thumb to his mouth and dragged his tongue across the tip before returning his hand between their bodies again. She felt a light, buzzing stroke over her clit, and she sighed with pleasure.
His thumb circled the pulsing nub as he pushed his penis against her opening. Sensation burst through her pelvis, making her dizzy with need. The pain came then, sharp and searing as he slammed his hips forward, breaking her barrier and filling her so full she thought she’d die.
But almost instantly the pain was gone, replaced by pleasure so wondrous she gasped.
Azagoth froze, his arms trembling. “I’m sorry,” he rasped. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, yes,” she said. “This is incredible.”
“It only gets better.” Dipping his head, he kissed her throat.
Then he began to move, and she nearly screamed at the ecstasy. Oh, dear Lord, this was exquisite. Every time he nearly pulled out, she tensed up, afraid of losing that amazing feeling of fullness. Every time he thrust deep again, she clenched, as if doing so would keep him there.
“You’re so...fucking...tight,” he ground out. “And you keep...ah, yes, squeeze me harder...fuck, yeah.”
“Azagoth,” she breathed. “More. I need more.”
She felt him smile against her neck. “So do I, baby. So do I.”
He picked up his speed, pumping harder and faster, until she was sliding forward with each thrust. All around them, the tiny waves lapped at their bodies, licking between her legs in her most sensitive spots, until it felt as though Azagoth’s cock and tongue were both working her in sync with his thumb.
Groaning, she rolled her hips to take him even deeper, to get him moving faster...anything to ignite the climax building at her core.
It came in a detonation of ecstasy so intense she saw lights behind her eyes as her consciousness practically exploded from her body. She might as well have been shooting through time and space.
Azagoth lifted his head to stare into her eyes as he held himself above her, his body flexing and surging, the sunlight glinting off the fine sheen of sweat and seawater coating his skin.
“Mine,” he growled, the tendons in his neck straining with each word. “You. Are. Mine.”
His words triggered another orgasm, and she screamed as it took her even harder than the first one. Throwing back his head, he joined her with a feral shout that was surely heard in the Heavens. He drove into her with such power and erotic savagery that she left a deep groove in the sand as he propelled them forward, but she didn’t care. Her climax kept her spiraling out of control, mindless with pleasure.
Finally, he jerked, his body spasming as the last of his hot jets spilled inside her.
Now she knew the reason she’d held on to her virginity. It might not have been a conscious thing, and maybe it was even fate. But whatever had kept her virginity intact, she now understood why.
She was meant for Azagoth.
Chapter Fifteen
Azagoth hated that they had to return to his realm. Especially just seconds after the best sex he’d ever had. He’d barely withdrawn from Lilli’s wet heat when the pull of the chronoglass dragged them back into the cold darkness of Sheoul-gra.
But this time, the well of emotional turmoil didn’t writhe out of control like before. This time, he was able to grasp each one and wrestle it into submission as he wrapped Lilliana in a blanket and carried her to his shower, where he spent half an hour washing her.
And another half an hour making love to her on one of the benches.
He loved listening to her come. Loved tasting her as she orgasmed in his mouth over and over. And when he’d entered her again, it had been like the whole world was right.
For the first time since creating his realm, it now truly felt like home.
Even better, the necklace he’d given her hadn’t been needed. Oh, it was still beautiful on her delicate, creamy skin, but its true purpose hadn’t played a role at all.
When he’d decided he wanted a mate, he’d been concerned that he and the female would need an emotional connection, something he couldn’t give her, nor she him. So he’d had the jewelry special made to operate within Sheoul-gra to transmit thoughts and emotions from his mate to him. He’d hoped he could feel her. Understand her.
All of that was happening naturally, and damn if that wasn’t a miracle.
“I have a surprise for you, Soul Boy.” Lilliana said as she slipped her feet into flip-flops. She’d chosen a pair of shin-length white pants and a bright orange T-shirt, all of which would have been perfect for the beach earlier. He wondered if she was still basking in the tropical glow.
Because he sure as hell was.
“I like surprises,” he said. “Good ones.”
Smiling, she took his hand and led him out of the bedroom. “It’s a good one.”
He let her lead him outside the palace and onto the stone steps. “Where are we going—” He broke off with a breathless gasp.
The landscape had transformed. It still looked like a nuclear blast had devastated the area, but signs of rebirth and recovery were everywhere. Green grass was punching up through the blackened soil, and colorful buds were sprouting from tree branches that were no longer gnarled and as dark as licorice. The pulsing vines climbing the buildings had withered and died, replaced by grape vines that were spreading even as he stood there.
He stood, speechless, as a breeze, something he’d not experienced here in centuries, brought a light floral scent with it. He couldn’t remember the last time the air out here had smelled of anything but decay.
“How,” he croaked. “How did you do this?”
“I didn’t. I think it’s connected to your emotions. As you start feeling them, your realm i
s reflecting that.”
Of course. The place had died as he’d grown more and more corrupted by evil, until there was nothing left. His domain had been as dead as he was, but now that he could feel life pulsing inside him once again, the world around him was feeling it too.
But Lilliana was wrong on one point. “You did do this, Lilli,” he said, as he framed her face in his palms. “Without you, this wouldn’t be happening. This is your doing.”
Lowering his mouth to hers, he kissed her softly, drinking in the sweetness that was Lilli’s soft, welcoming lips.
“Thank you,” he murmured. “You’ve brought more to my world in a few days than anyone has given me in a lifetime.”
She went taut, and he was about to ask what was wrong when the sound of a clearing throat interrupted his thoughts.
“My lord.”
“Dammit, Zhubaal—”
“It’s Hades,” Zhubaal said from where he stood on the temple’s bottom step. “He has another situation.”
Fuck. Ever since Azagoth had authorized the reincarnation of Lucifer’s soul—at Satan’s insistence—things in the Inner Sanctum had been chaos. Now every fallen angel wanted to be reincarnated, born as an emim—the non-winged but still powerful offspring of two fallen angels. The demon souls in the Inner Sanctum were antsy, sensing Lucifer’s coming birth, something that could affect all of the realms...demon, human, and Heavenly...in game-changing ways.
The doors at the top of the stairs blasted open, and Hades strode out, his face and bare chest streaked with blood. His seizure-inducing color-shifting pants were oddly clean, but his boots were covered in stuff Azagoth didn’t want to guess at. His blue Mohawk was pristine, though. The dude never let anything mess up his hair.
“Did he tell you?” Hades growled. “Riots. I’m dealing with riots. I think it’s time you went Grim Reaper on a few asses.”
“I’m sorry, Lilli,” he sighed. “I have to go.”
“Duty calls.” She smiled sadly, and he shouldn’t be thrilled by that, but he was. She was sorry to see him go. How great was that? Most people would sell their souls to get him out of their lives. Literally.
“I’ll be back soon,” he swore. He’d take care of whatever Hades was whining about, and afterward...there was something he needed to do. With his emotions coming back online, he wanted to connect with his children. Oh, thanks to Methicore, seeing any of them in person would be impossible...for now. But the bastard couldn’t take away his ability to care for them, and maybe even to love them.
Because now he knew he could love. Knew it for sure.
He was in love with Lilliana.
Chapter Sixteen
Two days passed without Azagoth. Two days in which Lilliana did nothing but worry. She’d done her best to keep busy, helping Cat with cooking, reading in the library, and her favorite, tending to the new plant growth outside.
Not once did she try to find a way to get the chronoglass out of Sheoul-gra. She figured she still had three weeks to decide if she was truly staying, and when it came down to it, she simply didn’t want to think about leaving. Without the chronoglass, returning to the Heavenly realm would end in a life of lobotomized misery. With it, she could continue with the life she’d had, but really, what kind of life was that? She’d been busy but lonely. Happy but not content.
Could she be content here?
And where in the hell was Azagoth, anyway? Should she be worried? She didn’t think he could be in any danger, but suddenly, a million scenarios spun through her head, many involving hostile takeovers in the Inner Sanctum. Azagoth was the ultimate power down here, but what if Hades and all of the demons trapped in the Sanctum rose up against him? Could he be held prisoner? Maybe even killed?
Okay, so now she’d gotten herself into a panic, and when Zhubaal passed her in the hallway as she was on her way to Azagoth’s office, she grabbed his arm.
“Has Azagoth returned?”
Zhubaal snarled at her. “How should I know?”
“Isn’t it your job to keep track of him?”
He yanked out of her grip. “He doesn’t always inform me of every move he makes.”
“Can you at least tell me if he’s okay?”
“Of course he’s okay.” Impatience dripped from his voice. “He’s Azagoth.”
Zhubaal was really ill-tempered. She hoped Cat didn’t get involved with him. “Does he go away like this a lot?”
“Sometimes.”
So not an answer. “Okay, let’s try this. Why is he there? What’s going on?”
“It’s not my place to share.”
“Yeah? Well, he’s my mate, so you will share.”
A slow, sinister smile spread across his face. “You truly want to know?”
“No,” she snapped, her patience worn out, “I asked because I don’t want to know. What are you not telling me?”
His smile grew broader. “He went to the Inner Sanctum to visit a lover.”
“What?” Her heart clenched. “Why?”
“Why does anyone visit a lover?”
Instant, crushing hurt left her dazed and sick to her stomach. “I don’t believe you,” she croaked.
He shrugged. “Ask him yourself when he gets back. Her name is Rhona.”
Spinning around like he couldn’t wait to get away from her, he took off, leaving her shaking with rage and jealousy. After all she and Azagoth had been through, after his assurances that she’d changed his life and helped him, he could do this to her?
He’s Azagoth. He’s evil. What the hell did you expect?
No, this was wrong. Zhubaal was lying. He was, after all, a fallen angel, and everything that came out of their mouths was suspect.
Still, tears stung her eyes as she jogged toward Azagoth’s office. She had to see him. Had to find out if there was a way to get into the Inner Sanctum. Maybe a griminion could help.
But as she passed the entry to the great hall, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye.
Doubling back, she peeked through the doorway. Relief flooded her when she saw Azagoth standing in front of a huge stone she’d thought was a weird piece of boring art. But now it was transparent, its surface flickering like a TV screen.
A spy stone. Interesting. The things were fairly common, but few had the power to use them. She should have known Azagoth would be one of the few.
Frowning, she inched closer. What was he watching? There appeared to be a beach in the background, and as the screen narrowed and focused, a female in a skimpy swimsuit leaped for a volleyball.
The female, a curvy redhead, sent the ball sailing back over the net. She landed gracefully, her perky breasts bouncing all over the place and drawing every male eye around. Azagoth smiled, and Lilliana’s throat burned. With a wave of his hand, the picture changed, this time focusing on a dark-haired female in tight yoga pants and a sports bra as she jogged through what looked like Central Park in New York City.
Azagoth’s smile grew wider, and Lilliana’s throat burned more. He reached out, touched his finger to the female’s face, the reverence in his expression leaving Lilliana flushing miserably.
Suddenly, the picture went blank, and he strode off toward his office. Must be a bigwig soul coming through the portal. Lilliana wondered what kind of baddie was bad enough to drag him away from the females he’d been lusting after.
The bastard.
Irrational rage such as she’d never felt before, not even when her kidnapper threatened and abused her, singed the edges of her control. As if flames were searing her from the inside, she exploded in a fury that blackened her vision and her thoughts.
With a snarl, she rushed forward on a collision course with the stone. She hit it with her shoulder with as much force as she could muster. The thing tilted, teetered, and started to right itself.
“No!” Azagoth’s furious voice startled her, but she’d committed, and now she was going to finish her mission.
She shoved the stone before it fell back into place,
and with a crash, it hit the floor and shattered into a million pieces. A godawful roar echoed through the room, vibrating the air and making every statue, every portrait, tremble. Even the floor beneath her feet bucked, throwing her off balance as she raced toward the exit.
She didn’t make it.
An icy hand clamped around the back of her neck, and suddenly she was being slammed onto the ground. As the stone floor came at her face, everything went black.
* * * *
Lilliana came to lying on the couch in Azagoth’s office. He was sitting across from her in his desk chair, forearms braced on his knees, head hanging loosely on his slumped shoulders.
“Why did you do that?” he asked, his voice softer than she would have expected.
Azagoth had spread a blanket over her, and as she scooched into a sit, she shoved it away, not wanting any of his kindness right now. “You swore you wanted me.”
“I do.” He was still looking down between his spread knees, his tone even and showing no signs of anger.
Was he truly calm, or was he simply back to being unable to feel emotion? If the latter, he could be on the verge of killing her and she wouldn’t know until it was over and she was nothing but a soul waiting to be reaped.
Or turned into one of his stone statues.
She shuddered. “If you want me,” she shot back, “then why did you go to the Inner Sanctum to see a lover? And why were you looking at other females?”
His head came up sharply, his green eyes blazing. “A lover? You mean Rhona? Did Zhubaal tell you that?” At her nod, he cursed. “She hasn’t been my lover for over a century. She seduced Methicore, and he killed her for it. I went to see her to get information.”
Abruptly, Lilliana felt nauseous. If he was telling the truth, she’d just made a huge fool of herself.
Holding her stomach, as if that would stop the rolling that threatened to spill her breakfast, she asked, “What about the females you were watching in the stone?”