Angelic Surrender: The Kavanaugh Foundation, Book 2 Page 5

  “Will?” a sleepy voice called from the bedroom.

  Both of the men froze. Caim’s eyes flickered to Vassago, and a slow grin stretched his mouth. “Busy playing with humans?”

  “No.” It wasn’t a total lie, at least not yet. He’d restrained his desires so far. “She’s able to find the Skinwalkers in their human disguises.”

  “Is there someone with you?” Anjali’s shadow wavered in the bed.

  “Lay down. I don’t want you to fall and hurt yourself.” He pulled the door closed and whispered to Caim, “Get me a sword, and I’ll have the Skinwalkers taken care of in twenty-four hours.”

  “Sure.” The other Fallen still wore his silly grin as he crossed the room to the open window. “And by the way, just because you feel a little protective of this human doesn’t make you a Guardian Angel or something. You are what you are, and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

  Hollowness filled his chest. He’d accepted his fate a millennia ago, but he still felt the emptiness of being cast out. The closest he’d come to feeling whole again was a few hours ago when she’d kissed him. “I’m not trying to change anything.”

  “And they call me stubborn.” The air rippled around Caim, and he disappeared from view.

  Vassago opened the door and managed to catch Anjali as she fell out of bed. “I thought I told you to stay put.”

  “I heard you talking to someone.” Her bottom lip jutted out in a pout, and he ached to catch it between his teeth and nibble it until it appeared fat and swollen from his kisses.

  “You were dreaming.” He pulled back the covers and lifted her back onto the mattress.

  She wrapped her arms around his chest and pressed her ear against where his heart beat. “Yes, I suppose this is a dream. You wouldn’t be this nice to me if I was awake.”

  “Maybe.” His voice sounded hoarse, like he’d been shouting into a blizzard all night.

  “My head hurts. I hate being sick.”

  He couldn’t stop the chuckle that resulted. “What do you want me to do about it?”

  She sighed. “Just hold me until I go back to sleep.”

  “Gladly.” He’d hold for the rest of her life if she asked for it. Sraosha’s taunt played over and over again in his ears, though. Anjali was human, and she’d eventually die. And when she did, he feared he’d go to his creator and beg for an end to his own existence.

  He tightened his arms around her small frame and tried to focus whatever healing abilities he had to the knot on the back of her head. The effort exhausted him, and his eyelids grew heavy. His wings draped over them like a protective cocoon, and he fell asleep with the woman he knew was too dangerous to love in his arms.

  Chapter Seven

  When Anjali opened her eyes, the dim blue light of dawn glowed through her windows and hit the dark blanket wrapped around her which burst into a prism of colors. Iridescent shades of indigo and gold danced across the black surface. She lifted her hand and felt the silky brush of feathers.

  The blanket shuddered around her. Am I still dreaming? She reached out and stroked the feathers again to make sure they were real.

  “Be careful, Anjali,” a deep voice rumbled under her. “They’re more sensitive than you think.”

  She jumped back only to find her body restrained by a pair of steely arms. “Will, what’s going on?”

  His laughter tickled her ear. “Maybe you’re still dreaming.”

  Of course I have to be dreaming. Here I am, wrapped in the arms of the most frustratingly gorgeous man I’ve ever met, and my clothes are still on. It’s not a dream—it’s a nightmare. She lowered her head and listened to the steady beating of his heart. It soothed her like a lullaby.

  “Why are there feathers in my dream?”

  More laughter. The feathers retreated from her line of sight. “What are you talking about?”

  Now he’s playing games with me. She lifted her head and tried to find what he’d done with them. The only thing she discovered was an infuriatingly cocky grin on his face. Heat crawled along the surface of her skin, but she couldn’t tell if anger or lust fueled it. “What did you do with them?”

  “It’s just a dream.”

  Was it? Everything around seemed so familiar—her room, her bed, her incense that lingered in the air from the stand next to her bed. Everything except the man laying under her whose thumbs massaged tiny circles into the flesh of her arms, and clouded her mind with naughty thoughts.

  “Fine. If it’s just a dream, then I can do this without consequences.” She leaned forward and kissed him. The heat she experienced before seemed more like a match compared to the bonfire that rolled over her skin now. His fingers dug into her arms, and warning bells went off in her head. This wasn’t a dream.

  She tried to pull back, but one of his hands cupped the back of her head and held her in place. His teeth caught her bottom lip and gently nibbled on it, sending tiny spasms of pleasure straight to her aching sex. Her mouth opened in a muffled gasp, and his tongue swept in. Each sensual stroke dragged her deeper into his embrace. She gave up trying to fight him.

  He must’ve sensed her surrender because he rolled her over onto her back. The weight of his body pressed along hers, feeding the growing hunger building up inside her. She arched her hips and found the hard ridge that teased the place between her legs. Screw the fact he was dangerous and bordered on being a stalker at times. She wanted him to fuck her into oblivion. She pried her hands between them and unzipped his jeans.

  He broke off their kiss and pinned her hands above her head. “No, not yet.”

  “Will, what the hell—?”

  He silenced her with his warm, sexy mouth that knew how to melt her anger with a few flicks of his tongue. When she stopped trying to free her wrists from his hands, his lips travelled lower, tasting the hollows of her neck and making her moan in pleasure. Her panties had already become soaked by the time he reached her collarbone. She writhed under him and wished to feel his skin next to hers instead of the layers of clothes that separated them.

  “Why do you fight me, little one?” His grip tightened around her wrists. He nipped her flesh and followed the sting with a soothing lick with the flat of his tongue.

  Her breath came out in ragged pants. Dear God, she wanted him. Her whole body longed for his touch, from the slick folds between her legs to the pebbled nipples of her breasts. “Why do you tease me?”

  “Because I can.” He brought her wrists together under one hand so the other could cup her breast. He rolled the sensitive peak between his thumb and finger.

  Another jolt of painful pleasure rocked her body and made her forget the sharp retort she’d prepared for him. Yes, he knew exactly how to please her and make her beg, and part of her hated to admit that one man could reduce her to a babbling mass. The rest of her seemed content to let him use her body as he wanted so long as he continued to evoke the blissful sensations that blurred the edges of her consciousness.

  “Surrender to me, and I can take you places you never dreamed of.”

  “What are you? Some kind of incubus?” Some kind of delicious incubus that makes any other man I’ve been with seem like a half-witted teenager in bed. Between his mouth and his fingers, he had the tension coiling her in womb, begging for release, and he hadn’t even touched her below the waist. She could only imagine what it would feel like when his fingers grazed her sensitive clit, or when he plunged his cock deep inside her.

  “If I were an incubus, we’d both be naked and exhausted by now.” He sucked her earlobe and held it there between his teeth while his tongue swept over it. Her breath froze, and her body tensed under his. “They only prey on weak-willed women.”

  “Let go of me, and I’ll—” She caught herself before she told him she’d do whatever he wanted. What had he reduced her to? A begging bimbo who only craved sex?

  The amused glint in his eyes increased her disgust. She fought against him, trying to slip a fist free or aim a knee to his gr
oin. Anything to let him know she wouldn’t give into him that easily.

  His weight pressed her deeper into the mattress and prevented her from moving any of her limbs. He laughed at her like she was child throwing a temper-tantrum. “You’ll what?”

  Her gaze locked with his, and her threat lodged in her throat. How could he be so beautiful and so cruel at the same time?

  “You don’t like to be dominated, little Anjali? Is that it?” A series of feather-light kisses traced her lips, contrasting with the way he held her prisoner in her own bed. “You fear losing control of things.”

  “No,” she lied before catching his mouth and sliding her tongue into its warm recesses. He tasted like pure sex, a powerful aphrodisiac that went straight to her head like a fine cognac. Now she finally understood the meaning of the phrase “drunk off kisses”. She’d gladly drink him in all day.

  His hand slipped from her wrists and cradled the back of her neck. His erection strained against the fabric of his underwear as he ground his hips into hers, mimicking the motions she’d gladly welcome if they’d been unclothed. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one affected by the mad chemistry between them. And it was madness, after all. What would someone like him want with a measly human like her?

  A snap sounded above them, and when she opened her eyes, her jaw dropped at the sight of the shiny black wings that appeared overhead. They surrounded her like a second pair of arms, grazing her cheek with their silky feathers. She blinked a few times, wondering if she was dreaming again. They seemed too exquisite to be real. She reached out and stroked them from where they sprouted from the middle of his back all the way to their tips.

  A groan rumbled through his chest. He pulled his lips away from hers. Tension strained the lines of his face, but a dim red fire glowed from the depths of his eyes. “Anjali, once we’re done with our other business, I plan on taking you to bed and not letting you leave for a week.”

  “Who says we have to wait? I’m sure a few hours won’t make much of a difference.” There. She’d said the words aloud. She told him in no uncertain terms that if he wanted to fuck her senseless, she’d welcome it. She ran her fingers along his wings once again to prove her point.

  His eyes shut so tightly, crow’s feet gathered around their corners. His breath hissed through his teeth. “Please don’t tempt me any more than you already do.”

  Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. He was going to get her all worked up and then walk away, claiming to be some kind of noble creature who had more self-restraint than her, a dark angel with sudden surge of morality. “Tell me what you are, Will.”

  “I’m a man,” he replied. “That’s all you need to know for now.”

  Was it really that simple? That he was a man, and she was a woman? Was that why they fit together so well?

  Some of his weight lifted from her body, and his kisses turned chaste compared to earlier. Now he was the one resisting. It was coming to an end, and something deep inside starting screaming like a spoiled three-year-old.

  She reached out to pull him back to her, to finish what they’d started. His jeans fell around his ankles when he stood, giving her an unimpeded view of his erection. Without any hesitation, she lowered his underwear, fell to her knees, and drew his cock into her mouth.

  Will moaned, and she knew she had him where she wanted him. A slow smile curled her lips upward. At last, she’d found his weakness and successfully turned the tables in her favor. What man didn’t enjoy a good blowjob? Now she had him by the balls, literally and figuratively.

  Anjali took him deeper into the back of her throat. Her tongue traced the thick vein on the underside of his cock, earning another appreciative moan. Once again, she wondered if this was madness, but she needed to feel him, to taste him, to reassure herself he wanted her as much as she wanted him. But it went deeper than that. Sex would do more than satisfy the ache building inside her. It would reassure her that she was alive in the face of all the death she’d witnessed last night.

  He threaded his fingers through her hair and tilted her head up so she could see his face. His eyes appeared hooded, like he was half-asleep, but a muscle rippled along his jaw. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Anjali.”

  She chuckled and increased her suction. Perhaps it was a game, but she refused to lose. She began to swirl her tongue around the base of his shaft, slowly licking her way back up to the crown. When she reached the end, she released him. “I can always stop.”

  “Don’t.” The word sounded like a pained grunt, and he tightened his grip on her hair, pulling her back to him.

  She took him in her mouth again, relishing the saltiness of the pre-come that pearled on the tip. While she worked her lips up and down his cock, she watched his reaction. The smoldering glow in his eyes made her pulse race. Could he really desire her as much as she did him?

  The heat of his skin spread throughout her body and settled in the pit of her stomach. His wings grazed against her cheeks in a gentle caress, so different from the firm way he guided the movements of her head. But more than just a physical connection was forming between them. As she listened to his murmured encouragements and inhaled his spicy scent, a strange emotion seized control of her. She feared losing him.

  The realization made her gasp.

  For a split second, she paused and met his gaze. His eyes widened, and a hiss filled the silence between them. Then he hauled her up to feet and threw her back on the bed. His hands fumbled for her zipper. “I want more than just your mouth.”

  “Good, because I want your cock elsewhere.” She couldn’t get her pants off fast enough. A sensual fire flowed through her veins, making her sex throb with each beat of her heart. He would give her what she craved. She would to ride the waves of ecstasy in his arms, to reaffirm her humanity as she came under the canopy of his wings.

  The click of her deadbolt turned her blood to ice.

  Will jumped from her bed and threw the covers over her. His glorious wings snapped together behind his back and shrank until they disappeared while he yanked his jeans up. He hid in a corner, ready to pounce on whoever the intruder may be.

  Logan entered her apartment like he always did until he turned around and saw her. His eyes widened. “Anjali, are you hurt?” A few heartbeats later, he sat on the edge of her bed. “What happened?”

  “She got whacked pretty bad by one of the Skinwalkers.” Will emerged from the shadows looking as put together as GQ model. “I’ve been sitting with her all night to make sure she’s okay.”

  Liar. Just a minute ago, you were about to hump me like a sex-crazed frat boy, and before that, you were ready to come in my mouth. She inwardly fumed at his noble act for a second before she caught what he said. “What do you mean, one of the Skinwalkers?”

  Logan combed his fingers through the rat’s nest of her hair. A flush crept up into her cheeks. How many of the tangles were due to her actions this morning? “You have quite a goose-egg there, not to mention a collection of dried blood. Maybe I should call Jen and have her check you out.”

  She closed her hand around his cell as soon as he pulled it from his pocket. “No, there’s no need to wake her up and drag her over here this early in the morning. Besides, I’m not bleeding now. I’m awake and making sense, I hope.”

  “You are.”

  “Then I’ll be fine.” She squeezed his hand and turned her attention to Will. “Back to my question.”

  “There were four last night.” He strode out of her room in a way that told her that’s all she’d learn from him.

  “Four?” She hopped out of bed, and walls wavered in front of her. Logan’s arms kept her from landing face-first on the floor. Her stomach rolled. Talk about a blow to the head. Or maybe my blood still hasn’t returned from between my legs.

  She heard a rustle, and two images of Will’s face danced in front of her before they merged into one. “I warned you earlier about getting out of bed too quickly.”

  That’s why you were mo
re than happy to pin me to mattress earlier, huh?

  “That settles it. I’m calling Jen.” Logan started dialing the familiar number.

  “Give me a second.” Will reached behind her head and ran his fingers along the tender bump. He closed his eyes while his lips moved silently. His fingertips massaged the injury. A bright light filled her mind, making her wince at first but slowly filling her vision like the sun on a cloudless day. The pain and dizziness melted away under its heat.

  She lifted her chin and pulled his hands back until she could cover them with her own. The light faded, leaving goose bumps on her skin. “Thank you.”

  “I’m a bit rusty, but at least I haven’t lost my touch.” The corner of his mouth rose in a bit of self-depreciating humor. “Would you like some coffee?”

  She stood and didn’t waver this time, even with Logan still having a death grip on her. Her friend glanced back and forth between the two of them. He wanted to ask her questions, but not in front of Will.

  Her hands fell to her sides. “Coffee sounds great. I’d love a—”

  “Triple shot skinny mocha and lots of whipped cream on the top,” he finished for her. “I know. Anything for you, Logan?”

  “No.” The lone word almost came out as a growl. His hand tightened around her waist.

  Lovely. Now Logan’s acting all psycho male. She offered Will a shrug. Hopefully by the time he came back with coffee, she would have calmed her friend down. That is, if she could put her own mind at ease. When it came to Will Vassago, she wasn’t sure which end was up.

  Chapter Eight

  The chilly morning air soothed Vassago’s overheated skin and helped ease some of the throbbing pain in his balls. It stunned him that one simple human could be both his own private Hell and his closest thing to Heaven. The taste of her skin lingered in his mouth, as did the heaviness of her breasts in his hands. He loved the way her slender body responded to his touch, the way her hips rolled under his, the way she gasped when he discovered a new erogenous zone, the way her mouth wrapped around his cock.