by Harley James
“What name have you given our son?”
Her eyes assessed her warrior from head to foot. She swallowed, feeling her imperfections all the more. “Leonidas.”
Alexios smiled and laid the baby on a pile of furs in a cradle next to the bed. “Lion. A fine, strong name.”
He kissed their son, then approached her. The sudden furrow in his brow made her want to hide. She looked down at her feet, deciding to stay where she was, certain that if she tried to move now, she’d stumble.
He kissed her hot cheeks, the shell of her ears, the corners of her mouth. “You are perfect.”
“I am bumbling and ungraceful and, in short, everything you are not.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.
His arms came beneath her knees. He swept her up as though she weighed a trifle, then laid her gently on the bed. He rested beside her, his elbow bent to support his head with his hand.
The palm of his free hand warmed her belly through her peplos. “Who you are makes me feel alive. No one has ever moved me the way you do, and Sophie, I will always find you.”
He’d said that before. It was so strange. “Is this real?”
“This?”
“Between us.”
He nodded and kissed her lips, “Real and eternal.”
Her hope surged. “I love you, Alexios. I love you so much I can’t fit it all inside me anymore. I thought I’d lost you.”
She opened her mouth and, foreheads pressed together, he breathed her air. Stole her thoughts. The pads of his fingertips scorching her skin as he slowly, achingly removed her garments.
“I will love you forever and then whatever comes after that,” he whispered.
Her nails scored his back, hungry for more of his mouth on her breasts, his lips teasing and demanding. Their bodies moving in a raw, gritty dance as he stilled her covetous hips and pushed her legs further apart to press the broad tip of his phallus at her sex. He levered above her, his eyes hot. So hot.
Gods.
“Does this feel real?”
She couldn’t speak, threading her fingers in his dark hair, pulling until he growled. She writhed, rising to claim his thickness within her. I’ve got you now, warrior. Triumph bloomed, rising with her growing ecstasy. Tendons in his neck banded, sweat sliding down his face as he tried to resist her.
Surrender. Be mine.
Always, Sophie.
She blinked through a haze of passion. His voice in her head?
His hips backed out, then curled down, driving into her, flushing out impossibility, the pleasure searing, consuming, perfect.
She reached back, fingers scrambling for purchase, anything to tether her to this plane.
Hold on to me.
So she trusted that voice. Her hands sought him, and he did not disappoint.
He thrust again and again, his hips rolling, muscles bunching, shoulders shifting in the flickering firelight, his face in shadows, savage as he took her, made her more than she was.
Together, they were all.
His hand wound in her hair, tilting her chin up. His mouth loved her neck as he ground out his passion, her body his battleground.
My canvas.
‘Twas poetry. “How can I hear you?” she panted out.
“Our connection is beyond space and time.”
“I don’t understand.”
No more words, Sophie. Fly with me.
Chapter 18
A dark hunger rode him. Alexios drug air through his nostrils, striving for control. Take her. Consume. Possess.
He flipped Sophie onto her belly and scooted her down the bed until her knees planted on the floor, ass up. She opened her mouth to complain, but lost her voice when his thighs straddled hers, caging her in with his body.
Yes. Mine.
Right where he wanted her. No one—no one—would ever harm her.
He would protect humankind, yes, and he’d even figure out what this Crown of Thorns meant and do his best to defend it. He would honor the pledge he’d made with the archangel, but Sophie would always come first.
He curved down over her, hungry to lave her neck with his tongue. He reached up to move her hair…
And froze.
Below her hairline, a small, dark vine glyph. Its smoky black color was like that of the tattooed, Egyptian slave girls he’d seen in Athens last summer. The slave trader had said the designs were made using flat, bronze needles. The colorant created from burned wood soot. And it never came off.
Alexios ran his thumb over the intricate pattern of vines and...
Thorns.
A buzz arced through him. The glyph wasn’t there last night when they’d made love.
“Alexi?” Sophie turned to look over her shoulder. “What is it?”
Archangel, if you expose her to Lucifer, there will be war.
Alexios stared at the tattoo, trying to quell his pulse. To listen for an answer from Michael. What if the warrior angel wasn’t who he said he was?
What have I agreed to?
His only answer was the crackling of the fire in the hearth and Sophie shifting against the blankets.
“Alexios, what’s wrong?”
He tightened his arm around her middle and pressed her against the bed once more. “Do you have any pain? Anywhere?” he whispered.
“No, but why—”
He tilted her ass up and slowly pressed deep into her body, the sound—slick, erotic—drowning out the echoes of his uncertainty. A temporary reprieve.
He shook with his need for release. I need you, Sophie.
She bounced back against him, her breasts jiggling, driving him to madness until he had to take their weight in his palms. His groans merged with her throaty moans, the tang of their lovemaking fragrant around them.
He curled closer around her, driving deeper, fingers of one hand slipping between her legs, pressing, rubbing, circling until she cried out. Have to see her. To watch the passion flow from her expressive face. He pulled out, lifted her onto their bed, and crawled on top of her, their heavy breaths intermingling.
“Look at me,” he demanded.
Her stormy blue eyes found him. His name spilled from her lips when he thrust home. Her hands bunched in the blankets, then scored his back, her soft body quaking under him, alive with a thousand points of light.
As she fragmented again, he gave in to his own climax, her skin so fucking sweet, the textures, perfume, and taste of her imprinting on his soul.
“Omnia vincit amor, et nos cedamus amori. Love conquers all things, so we too shall yield to love,” he rasped.
“Love conquers all things, so we too shall yield to love,” she breathed back.
They lay entwined for a long time, their breath settling. With his new sharpened senses, he could hear not only her heartbeat, but their son’s from the cradle across the room. Gratitude wrapped around him.
He kissed her deeply once more, then went to the wash basin for a cloth. She stretched languorously, shooting up in bed when her gaze settled on his chest.
She scrambled to her knees, pointing. “Your death scar…it’s gone.”
His hand came up to sweep across his cheek as he looked down at his chest. The curved scar on his cheek was still there, but the skin on his chest was restored.
He couldn’t manage a full breath. “You’ve healed me.” Did the thorn tattoo imbue her with powers?
She eyed his cheek with a rueful smile. “Not entirely.”
He waved a hand in the air by his mouth to help dispel his restlessness. “This one is insignificant.”
If she had powers, that meant she wouldn’t be as vulnerable to those who sought to do her harm—human or otherwise. He exhaled slowly, then rolled his shoulders and prowled closer to her. “You must have power between your legs, woman. More reason to spend all my nights there.”
She gave him back a sultry smile and reclined at his urging so he could cleanse her body with the cloth.
And with his mouth.
“Gods, y
ou make me burn, Sophie.”
“Bring your fire, Spartan.” She caressed him intimately, whispering promises as their bodies joined again. Sighs and moans. Shivers and fever. They loved long and hard—desperately almost—and would have gone another round if their boy hadn’t begun to stir and fuss on the furs.
Alexios laved Sophie’s rosy nipple once more before rolling from their bed to walk to the boy’s cradle. He paused, looking down as Leonidas wriggled and tried to fit his fist in his mouth.
A strange fullness expanded in his chest. He reached for the baby, so small in his hands, and grabbed the hanging vessel filled with goat’s milk on his way to the bed. He watched Sophie change the baby, then feed him from the terra cotta spout.
“Do you still wish to fill our home with children?” Tomorrow he would summon the archangel to ask him about her thorn tattoo…and whether he could even beget children as a Guardian.
“More than anything.” Her smile was luminous. “And if they turn out clumsy like me, I shall never scold them for making a mess or breaking things. Unless it’s someone’s spirit.”
He tweaked her pert nose, then stroked the top of Leonidas’ head, counting out one hundred heartbeats in the soft spot before asking, “How many children are we talking about here?”
He lay back and settled her and the boy in his arms as her answer wove a spell of comfort and peace through his soul.
The archangel had said times would be hard.
Let it come. Spartans embraced adversity.
But now, for now…
He would savor the good.
He breathed in his wife’s lemon and lavender, kissed her often and deeply, and listened to her ideas for peace, for unity, for family.
And when her voice grew thin and drowsy, he kissed her once more and sang her and their baby to sleep.
Sang her the song he would ever use to find her through time.
I love you, Sophie.
He sang. And slept.
The series continues… Each book is a stand alone with a happily ever after.
Guardians of Humanity Book 1
Sneak Peek
This isn't your mother's fairy tale. And I'm no prince charming.
I'm the devil next door.
And claiming Jessie is what I desire most.
I was a scumbag before my death and fate gave me two choices.
Fight demons for the sake of humanity, or face hellfire and damnation.
Yeah, not really much of a choice...
Most women who come this close to a demon hunter turn to putty on the spot.
Not Jessie.
This sassy little spitfire is playing hard to get.
Beautiful eyes and heart-shaped a$s that would make any immortal do bad things.
Guarding humanity is tough, but loving Jessie makes me remember what it's like to be human.
Her gentle touch and caring heart make me want to be... more.
So as the battle for good and evil draws near, Jessie's safety is my main concern.
They try to come for her.
Wrong move.
I protect what's mine.
Any time. Any where. No matter the costs.
Nobody messes with my girl.
Sexy meets magical in this steamy full-length, stand alone novel. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and happily ever after guaranteed! This is book 1 of the Guardians of Humanity series.
Click here to get book 1 now!
Chapter One
Tall, dark, and delicious, he pressed her body against the wall. Full. Frontal. Contact. Mmm.
Lord, he was hot-blooded. His I-got-you-baby shoulders blocked out the world and its problems, his wicked lips descending to that perfect spot on her neck.
She burned for his touch.
Burned and—
Sizzled?
Water hissing as it overflowed the pot of spaghetti.
“Shit!” Jessie snapped out of her fantasy and lunged for the stove, yanking the pot off the burner. Boiling water sloshed across the counter as a new round of moans and headboard slamming began in the apartment next door.
Jessie shivered in response, shooing her ten-year-old Chihuahua away from the hot noodles on the floor. “Whoever he brought home is not gonna be able to walk for a week. Lucky bitch.”
And Stupid Nate.
Why’d he have to flaunt his hookup like this?
Every time they talked, he seemed so into her.
She’d never seen him with anyone, so she hoped he might be single and…
You are so lame, Jessie.
And unfair.
She didn’t know much about her naughty neighbor other than he had a sexed-up British accent, bedroom eyes, and a smile that made her knees weak.
Just because he knew his way around a woman’s body—some other woman’s body, gah—didn’t mean she should take her sexual frustrations out on him.
“Looks like we’re gonna have to swing by McDonalds before hitting the library, Scourge. You’ll have to hide in my purse again.” With only two hours before the law library closed, she didn’t want to fuss with getting gussied up.
Besides, Mr. Charisma was already occupied next door, and no hunky law students would be prowling the library this late on a Friday night.
She shoved her books into her bag, slipped on her fuzzy boots, grabbed her coat, purse, keys, and Scourge. She hustled out the door and…
Bumped into her fantasy.
“Whoa! Easy there, angel.” A deep voice rolled over her skin.
A British voice.
Hell in a handbasket.
Nate.
Jessie ducked her head and pushed out of his grasp because she wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup. Or a bra. Balls. Not a good call when you’re a double D.
Déjà vu drifted over her from the day he’d moved in and caught her in the same predicament. Except that morning she’d been wearing nothing but a baggy white t-shirt and underwear.
She pulled her book bag and Scourge in front of her like a bullet-proof vest. Then noticed she’d knocked a bunch of grocery bags out of his hands when she’d barreled out of her apartment.
She and Nate bent down to the grocery bags and knocked heads at the precise moment the woman in Nate’s apartment reached her throat-ripping climax.
Nate made a low sound like he was in pain, causing all the skin on Jessie’s upper body to prickle. Her gaze shot up to find his saturated blue eyes burning with intensity and his lips—oh wow—those beautiful lips inches from her own.
“Y-you aren’t home?”
His serious expression slid away and a dimple peeked beside his lips. Had she really spoken out loud? OMG, Jessie. “What I mean is…”
I’m so happy you’re not the one banging that chick into next week.
There was nothing she could say that would make this less awkward, so she handed him a red pepper, wondering what he planned to make with it. “Glad the eggs are okay, and sorry to plow you over,” she managed without stuttering again.
He ignored the jug of pomegranate juice, Gruyere cheese, and various types of produce splayed across the floor to pet Scourge, the little traitor, who’d bailed from her bag and now had his front paws on Nate’s chest.
“They’ve been kinda loud, eh? Good for them. I thought they’d be finished by now. How long have they been at it?”
Her mouth gaped for a split second before she recovered. “I am so not having this conversation with you.”
The heat in his eyes made her suddenly aware of her pointy, unprotected nipples. She rearranged her scarf over her breasts the best she could. Then she reached for Scourge and stuffed him in back in her bag. “See you around, Nate.”
He grabbed her elbow and helped her to her feet. “Hey, where are you going so late anyway?”
As casually as possible, she pulled more hair out of her messy bun to hide behind because these awful fluorescent hallway lights highlighted every imperfection.
“It’s not late for night owls like me. I’
m heading out for a bite to eat before I hit the library.”
Moans started anew next door. Nate stepped closer, raising Jessie’s heart rate tenfold.
“I’m a night owl, too, so I’d like to propose a deal for you, Jessica.”
Of course he did.
But she’d never tried a foursome, and tonight was damn well not going to be her first.
Her glance raked him over, from his scuffed leather boots, up his jean-clad, muscle-bound thighs, to the snap-front olive shirt rolled to expose his sexy forearms—doesn’t he feel the cold? It’s like forty degrees outside—to those lips, all-seeing eyes, and carelessly artful mahogany hair.
Talk about a total contrast to her oversized University of Minnesota sweatshirt, UGG boots, and spaghetti sauce-splattered yoga pants.
Back away from the bad boy, Jessie. “I…I’m sorry. I really need to get to the library to study. Big constitutional law test tomorrow.”
Which she was going to flunk if she didn’t get some food and study-time serenity ASAP.
He tilted his head with a lazy smile that made her anything but relaxed. “With your dog?”
“He was at the vet for shots this afternoon. I never leave him alone in case he has a delayed reaction.” She glanced down at her baby. “I know it’s silly.”
“Not at all. It’s sweet. So here’s what I’m thinking. I’ll help you study if you give me a place to hang around for a while. You’ve got to admit, I can’t go in and interrupt that.” He lifted his grocery bags. “I’ll cook us a quiche while you study. I promise not to be a bother.”
“What?” He couldn’t be serious.
“I’ll even quiz you after a while.”
“Quiz?” she squeaked.
“Sure. I’ll ask questions from the chapter you’re studying, and you can answer.” How did he get his eyes to twinkle like that? “Then I’ll feed you quiche,” he said.
“Quiche?”
“You know, eggs, cream—”
She squeezed Scourge so hard he yelped. Come on, Jess, full sentences. “I know what quiche is.”