I feigned a yawn, covering my mouth. “I’m already half asleep in your tedious company. I will be fully in control of my lust, you can be assured. Because I will be unconscious in moments.”
He went completely still, his gray eyes boring into me. “Really. Still pretending to be bored?”
I shrugged. “I have no interest in you being in the same bed as me, except that I don’t want you all weak and useless if the Free Men attack, just because you stupidly slept on a cold stone floor. It’s a poor tactical decision.”
The corner of his lip twitched, and he looked as if he couldn’t decide if he was outraged or amused. “Is that right? I’d better not make a poor tactical decision.”
God help me, I liked goading him. “I can feel that I’m recovering from the poison. But you? You could end up being dead weight if you don’t get some proper rest. Muscles all stiff, a case of influenza from the chill.”
He cocked his head. “The angel of death does not get influenza.” He pulled back the covers, and slid his legs inside. “But you’re right, we are both perfectly capable of controlling our impulses, since we don’t feel anything for each other whatsoever. And you’re already nearly asleep.”
I finished the last of my hot tea, and leaned over the other side of the bed to drop the teacup on the floor. “And you’d never look twice at a grotesque demon like me.”
I caught the little wince as he lay down. He was playing it down, but I knew his shoulder was killing him.
He folded his hands behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. As I snuggled under the covers next to him, he slid me a glance. “I never sleep with a sweater on.”
I shrugged. “So take it off. Makes no difference to me.”
A smile ghosted over his lips. “Like sleeping with a featureless hat maker’s mannequin anyway.”
I faked another yawn. “One that keeps talking. How do you talk without a face? It’s a little unnerving.”
He sat up again to pull off his sweater, tugging it off to reveal thickly corded back muscles. For a moment, liquid gold swirled over his skin, then disappeared again. Breathtaking.
I snapped my mouth shut before he had the chance to see the awestruck look on my face, but I could feel my cheeks growing hotter.
I rubbed my eyes, trying to give the impression of tiredness. “I’ll tell you what Samael, you are like a sleeping potion. Perfect really.”
The wind gusted in again through the fireplace, snuffing the flames down to embers. Darkness fell over the hall, except for a few flickering candles. But Samael’s body was hot next to mine. He slid in close to me, and his arm brushed against me. His bare skin against my wrist sent a jolt through my body. I felt his muscles tense, too.
My breath sped up, and I tried not to think of how shockingly perfect he looked with his shirt off, or the deliciously sensual heat from his body. I would not be thinking about how all I wanted to do was run my hands over his chest, lower and lower until he gasped …
That would be giving in, wouldn’t it? I had something to prove.
My body was tightly coiled with desire, but I yawned again, loudly.
“Are you going to keep doing that?” he muttered.
“I’m just so relaxed,” I lied. “Forgot you were here.”
“I was asleep already until you made noise again.”
My forearm was pressed against the side of his abs, his muscles like pure steel. What would it feel like for him to draw me into his powerful arms right now, for me to wrap my thighs around his waist …
I heard him draw in a deep breath again, and exhale slowly.
And so while I pretended to sleep, I lay in bed next to him, my heart racing—completely awake.
I hadn’t been able to sleep a wink yet, although I thought I was quite good at faking it. Sleeping meant winning. Winning meant you didn’t care. What I needed was to think about something other than Samael’s perfect body, and the feel of his warm mouth on my thigh. I needed to not think of him ripping my clothes off, pinning me down, and fucking me hard.
What else was there to think about?
With the poison sucked out of my system, I wondered how much of my magic still worked. My muscles ached with fatigue, but I could feel a little hum of power under the surface of my skin, pumping through my veins. If I could manage to actually sleep, I thought I’d wake up refreshed and strong again in the morning.
My magic always seemed to work best when I rooted it to the earth somehow. Stone or soil helped to channel it.
I leaned over, running my fingertips over the stones in the wall. With a delicious tingling, I felt the earth’s vibrations rushing into my hand, up my arms. Not fully there yet, but working. Replenishing, slowly.
What exactly could I do with this power? Something beautiful …
I closed my eyes, letting my mind connect to the stone, and the soil beneath it. I pictured little violet stars swirling over the walls and floor.
When I opened my eyes again, my breath caught. Whorls of tiny luminescent mushrooms lined the walls, the floor, each of them beaming with violet. The hall was faintly aglow with little galaxies of violet light, like distant stars shining around us.
Beautiful.
I lowered my arm and tried to block out all thoughts of Samael once more.
Samael
There was no way in hell I would actually fall asleep. But I would pretend to sleep, because somehow, that was winning. I just couldn’t remember why that was winning, because I could feel Lila’s perfect little body pressed against mine, and all I could think of was how delightful it would be to rip her dress to shreds, to kiss her between her legs and make her scream.
I drew in a shuddering breath, my muscles coiled tight.
I had been ready to sleep on the floor. My entire plan had been to keep my distance from Lila—to marry some idiot stranger just to keep Lila at arm’s length. To keep her safe.
It was a terrible plan, and one I hated. But it was for Lila’s sake, and it had been a very clear plan.
So what the fuck was I doing now, shirtless and pressed against her in the dark? She yawned—again—which I knew she was doing just to prove a point, and to win the game. The game where we pretended not to care. She’d created a beautiful array of little glowing mushrooms, a tiny galaxy of light, then she’d started to fall asleep, bored and relaxed.
Through the soft cashmere of her dress, I felt the side of her breast brush against my arm. I wanted her completely stripped and lying beneath me.
But our time together was over, like I’d already decided. As I’d explained earlier, we were deeply dangerous for each other. What more evidence did I need than the fact that we kept trying to murder each other?
Lila I could handle. But Lilith? No way.
Lilith was a walking catastrophe. A beautiful nightmare. And unfortunately for me, Lilith wasn’t going anywhere. How could I possibly face spending my days with someone I’d once carved open and thrown into a moat? The guilt alone would eat me alive.
And then there was the fact that Lilith had a wicked streak a mile deep, a lust for vengeance, and I could never in a million years trust her. She could rise to the surface at any moment and turn my whole world into ashes.
Again.
I knew all that. And yet with Lila next to me, all my blood was running to the wrong place, making my thoughts muddled.
It was only with an iron force of will that I was stopping myself from rolling over and kissing her hard. I wanted to pull her dress down, below her breasts, and take her nipple into my mouth …
Sleep. As an ancient and divine being, I should be able to manage the simple task of sleeping. I’d once led celestial armies in wars against demon hordes, leaving fields of the dead behind. I could manage a bloody nap.
And more importantly—Lila was sleeping. She’d won. She’d bloody won. She really didn’t care, did she?
I was a hat maker’s mannequin.
Once, Lilith had slain me on the battlefield. Now, Lila had oblite
rated my ego. Brutal.
I grabbed the blanket, tightening my fist around it. How could I quench this unrestrained desire?
Oswald. Oswald could kill any kind of passion. I forced my breathing to slow, and I thought of Oswald, running through his lists of tasks he’d completed—organizing the laundry, having the linens changed, the workings of the dumbwaiters, the fresh coats of paint, the rubbish emptied, the baffling unprompted reminders that he was very manly indeed.
My heartrate slowed as Oswald’s dull monologues filled my mind.
It was working, my muscles growing more relaxed …
Lila shifted in her sleep, rolling away from me. But unfortunately, her arse was nestling against my hip, and she let out a long sigh. My blood rushed.
Just for a moment, just one moment, I would let myself turn and wrap my arm around her.
After this journey, we would not be seeing each other anymore. So why not fold my body around hers for just a few minutes …
This was a bad idea. I could already feel myself falling, the demonic side of me ready to take over completely. She wasn’t even naked, and my control was slipping fast.
She moved her hips into me, and something in me snapped. My thoughts went blank.
I was going to have her.
Lila
In his sleep, Samael rolled over, his body curling around me. His warmth radiated over me, and my heart sped up again. I’d never fall asleep with him this close to me.
Was he asleep?
If he was, he was having a deeply erotic dream, by the feel of his hardness pressing against me.
What would happen if I wiggled my bum into him?
As soon as I moved, one of his hands slid around my waist, holding me tight. Pinning me against him—possessive now. Ha! I’d won.
In fact, he was trapping me in a vise-like grip, the length of him pressing against my arse.
Definitely awake, then.
I yawned again so he could hear, then stretched my arms above my head. “I was asleep,” I murmured. A total lie. “Your arm is around me. What was that you said about me not being able to control myself around you?”
I waited for a retort, but when I glanced over my shoulder to look at his face, I saw a very different Samael to the one I’d been expecting. Eyes black as a starless midnight, and the gleam of liquid copper over his cheekbones. Demonic horns had grown from his head. But it was his expression that surprised me the most—something otherworldly.
A flicker of dread fluttered through me. What I’d seen before wasn’t his true face. This was his true face—the darkest, most dominating side of him. Was he in control of himself at all right now?
Interesting.
I might be unnerved, but Lilith was bloody delighted.
And maybe I liked what I saw, too. He was darkly imperfect, demonic and beautiful. And right now, there was no doubt about how much he wanted me.
His breath warmed my neck.
“Samael?” I whispered.
His only response was a soft growl that emanated from deep within his throat, and it rumbled through my belly.
His hand moved below my breast, and he lowered his mouth to my neck. Given the ferocity of his grip, I expected a rough kiss, maybe a feral bite.
Instead, his lips grazed my throat—agonizingly gentle. The unexpected lightness made liquid heat pool in my core. A moan escaped my lips, and his kiss grew a little deeper. Heat seared me as he tasted me, tongue flicking over a pulsing vein.
I reached behind me to touch his waist, running my fingers over his abs, stroking lightly along the top of his trousers. As I dipped my fingers just a little into his waistband, he hissed.
Then, his mouth crashed against my neck, teeth pressing harder. A primal, animal gesture to keep me where he wanted me. For a moment I wondered if he was about to tear my throat out, but he flicked his tongue over my neck again, replacing his teeth with a kiss.
His hand slid up higher. He palmed my bare breast, and a deep ache built in my belly.
I moaned quietly, and my hips moved back against him again.
“I want you naked.” His voice held a savage edge. He pulled the covers off me. Then, he reached up to one of the wide shoulders of my cashmere dress, and yanked it down sharply until the collar was down around my bicep, exposing my breast.
I liked his dominance, his possessiveness, and my nipple went hard in the cool air. Samael snarled, a quiet sound that trembled over my skin. He was going to strip me naked, and I was not going to complain.
His inky gaze slid down my body, taking in my exposed breast. Then, he reached across, yanking down the other side of my dress. I ached for him, and he was going to drive me insane.
“I want to see you.” He shifted, and I rolled onto my back, looking up at him.
His hands found their way under my hem, and they slid up my thighs, taking my dress up with them. He spread my thighs open, then reached down, trailing a fingertip over my silky black panties. That wickedly gentle touch set me on fire, making me damp. The light friction was going to make me lose my mind.
My back arched, body clenching with need.
“Stay still,” he said in a deep command.
“Control freak,” I muttered. He was torturing me, because he was a death demon and torture probably came naturally. But if I said I hated it, I’d be lying.
He traced slow circles, his gaze drinking me in.
I moaned softly, ready to come apart with his delicate touch. He pulled my underwear to the side, stroking my wet center, and my mind went totally blank.
As if from a distance, I heard myself whispering, “I need more.” My legs were shaking now.
He pulled his hand away, then leaned over me, hands on either side of my shoulders, hips between my thighs. His head dipped to meet mine.
He pressed his lips against mine and kissed me slowly, taking his time. His tongue swept in, teasing me. But I felt how much he wanted me, his hard-on pressing against my underwear.
When he pulled away from the kiss, I saw that his eyes were growing lighter, returning to a paler blue. Even so, they still burned with a ferocious intensity that took me apart, piece by piece.
“Samael, there you are.” My voice sounded breathless.
“Why did my worst enemy have to be so fucking beautiful?” His velvety voice caressed me, and he leaned down, kissing me again, deeper this time. Hungry and desperate, like his key to finding meaning was in closing the space between us. It was a kiss to make my toes curl, to make me forget my name.
I thought I would do anything for him.
One of his hands traced over my collarbone, then lower, cupping my breast again. Molten heat spilled through me. My arms were partially constrained by the dress pulled up around my biceps, but I reached up and touched his face. A wild ache had my thighs opening more, ready for him.
He said we’d ruin each other, destroy each other again and again. But we brought each other to life, too. We belonged together, dark and broken as we were.
I didn’t think we had a choice. I could never stay away from him, nor he from me.
Slowly, his scorching gaze raked down my body. Then, his head dipped, and he took one of my nipples in his mouth.
As he ran his tongue over me, I slid my fingers into his hair, gripping it. My hips moved against him, and he released my nipple.
He let out a low growl. “I want you. Tell me you feel the same.”
“You know I do.”
He sat up again, and there he was—my beautiful, lethal fallen angel who burned for meaning. He reached for my knickers and pulled them off. “I want to hear it.”
“I want you.”
The killer who’d been a virgin when I first met him. He was taking off his trousers, his underwear, until I could see every glorious inch of him.
I stared at the coppery swirls that moved over his chest—liquid magic.
His eyes were dark as jet, and demonic horns flickered above his head. Once, his true face would have made me run in t
error. But now I was as terrifying and brutal as he was. And I wasn’t running.
I reached for his abs, touching the swirls of copper. “You look beautiful as a demon.”
He froze. Then reached up, fingers brushing along the horns, muscles twitching.
“I mean it,” I said. “Beautiful.” He didn’t want to hear it, of course. He didn’t want to be a demon. He thought his destiny was to be King of the Fallen. I thought this was his destiny. To me, he was meant to be a demon.
The corner of his mouth twitched, and for a demon, his expression was strangely vulnerable. “I’ve never given a single fuck about how anyone thought I looked, until recently. I guess I’m lucky that the one person whose opinion I suddenly care about has disturbing taste.”
“Samael, are you going to fuck me now or what?”
“Your wish is my command.” He moved between my thighs, pausing at my entrance, teasing me.
“Samael.”
Then slowly—inch by inch—he sank into me, thrusting all the way in. As he filled me completely, I clenched around him, shuddering.
He kissed me deeply and thrust into me again, harder. I found my fingernails raking down his back. He was moving hard and fast, desperate as I was.
We were monsters, yes. And we belonged together. He pushed into me again and again, and my cries echoed off the high ceiling. Waves of pleasure slammed into me, and I closed my eyes, wrapping my thighs tightly around him. As he moved in me, my memories started to mingle with his long-buried memories from before the fall. The sweep of starry skies above him. The heavenly gleam of his sword. The feeling of awe as he saw Lilith …
He’d loved her in that first moment. As soon as he saw her, he loved her. He knew she would break his heart, destroy him. And he loved her anyway.
As if hearing my thoughts, he murmured, “I love you.”
Like the ring said—my beloved was mine, and I was his.
Possessed (Hades Castle Trilogy Book 3) Page 9