Unbidden, his hand came up to one of her breasts. That one touch undid him. In a powerful surge, he swept aside the wine flagon and cup and pushed Lilith onto her back. They both groaned as he covered her, her legs coming up to clench him around the waist. The next moments were a flurry of hands and tearing cloth, their desperation to get him as naked as she was all consuming.
Strange urges wracked him, desires to take her in ways he’d never indulged. Wicked, sinful ways. She knew, encouraged him. Time became a blur as he brought her to dozens of peaks, and somehow, he found the willpower to hold off his own climax. Or maybe he held off because she’d squeeze his sack at precisely the right moment, preventing his seed from spilling with only a touch and an odd trickle of heat from her palm.
“Not yet,” she kept whispering.
This time, when she cupped his balls while he was buried in the heat of her mouth, he rebelled.
“Not again,” he growled, pulling out and flipping her onto her back. Her eyes shot wide, and he resisted smiling at her dismay.
He mounted her, settling over her toned body, and when his shaft rubbed against her mound, she undulated, the raw hunger in her expression replacing her surprise at his defiance. As he dipped his head to suck a berry-red nipple into his mouth, he ground his hips, sliding the tip of his cock through her slit, drawing a cry from her sweet lips. He was so sensitized now that he had to pant through a near climax, because while he was so very ready, he would be inside her tight sheath when he spilled.
Pushing against her opening, he lifted his head to watch her as he slid slowly inside. He hissed as her inner walls clenched around him. Sweat broke out on his skin, and then she was tonguing his neck and tilting her pelvis to take him deep.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Give yourself to me.”
Surrounded by the rush of the waterfall and the rough slap of skin against skin, he pumped into her, the throbbing pressure in his shaft building beyond what he’d ever thought he could endure. White-hot pleasure seared him, and the sight of her full breasts bouncing with every thrust took him over the edge.
Ecstasy took him harder than anything he’d experienced before, penetrating to what felt like his very soul. He roared with the force of it, his seed filling her, flowing in a nonstop rush that made him dizzy. Lilith cried out in what sounded like a combination of pleasure and triumph, and suddenly, the bliss coursing through him morphed, tinged with an edge of darkness. Of shadow.
His head swam as he collapsed on top of her, dazed, a little confused by what had just happened. How could the best orgasm of his life turn into something that left him feeling not only exhausted, but… wrong?
Lilith pushed him aside, easily, as if he didn’t weigh twice as much as she did. Instead of being wrung dry, she seemed to be energized. Glowing.
Her smile was sensual but satisfied as she went to her feet, leaving him sprawled almost helplessly on the blanket.
“Thank you, Yenrieth,” she murmured. “Your angelic gift is going to take me far.”
Bewildered and still fuzzy, he watched her saunter away and disappear into the woods. And wait… Yenrieth? Angel? She’d known what he was?
Wobbling, he sat up. His palm came down on the spot where she’d been, and now that he was no longer vibrating with lust, a new vibration traveled up from his hand to his soul, a soul that seemed a little soiled now.
Demon. He was sensing a demon.
No. Oh, sweet Heaven, no.
Fury and anguish welled up from deep inside him. Lilith had seduced him, tricked him, used him. Sickened, he staggered to the pool, desperate to wash her touch from his skin.
He would never be able to wash her from the wreckage that was his soul.
As he scrubbed his body with an urgency that bordered on crazed, all he could think about was Verrine, and how right she’d been to run away. He was filth, and he wondered what the consequences of his actions would be… and who would pay the price.
Verrine spent several minutes vomiting, her heart aching. She knew Yenrieth wasn’t celibate—no battle angel was. Unlike some angels of other Orders who weren’t allowed to—or couldn’t—have sex, sexual need seemed to be part of the battle angel genetic code.
But to see him with a… succubus… especially after the kiss he’d shared with her, had torn Verrine wide open.
Nausea twisted through her again, but she fought the urge to spill what little was left in her stomach. Maybe this was her fault for not telling him how she felt about him. Maybe she should have confessed that she’d wanted to feel a male’s body against hers.
But not any male. She wanted Yenrieth to be the one to show her the wonders of making love.
And maybe she shouldn’t have run away from him like a frightened rabbit. She’d sent him straight into that female’s arms.
She wanted to scream.
When she’d come upon the pair in the final throes of ecstasy, it had been horrifyingly clear that he didn’t know the female he was releasing into was a demon. Damn him!
Verrine had warned him that his undeveloped ability to sense evil would get him into trouble if he didn’t work on honing the talent. Instead, he concentrated on learning to fight and turning holy fire into a powerful weapon—all admirable undertakings, but he’d neglected to develop other important skills.
And because he was a male, his reproductive instincts were blocked by a succubus’s charm, and he’d missed the most crucial fact about the demon: She had been fertile.
Trembling fiercely, Verrine had followed the demon to a Harrowgate, and just before the succubus stepped inside, Verrine had gotten close enough to feel her life force… and the four angelic life forces inside her.
The succubus was pregnant.
Verrine collapsed onto the ground, closing her eyes to the horrible reality. No one could learn about this. Yenrieth’s punishment would be severe, and Verrine loved him too much to let that happen.
She also loved him too much to tell him about the succubus’s pregnancy. Not now, while he was still a novice. She knew him well enough to know he’d scour Sheoul to find the female, and as a novice, he wouldn’t survive down there for an hour.
No, this was something she’d keep to herself. He might wonder what, exactly, the demon had stolen from him—succubi stole lives, souls, energy, and seed, often a combination of any of those—but with any luck, he’d believe energy alone had been her goal. After all, he was still alive, and he’d have changed if she’d stolen his soul. The seed… well, Verrine would just have to pray he was so drained from the sex that he’d believe the succubus had been after nothing more than the power she’d gain from his angelic life force.
Oh, Verrine would tell him the truth, but not yet. When, she didn’t know. What she did know was that she would move Heaven and Earth herself to find his children. She would make sure they were safe.
“Yenrieth,” she whispered. “I swear upon my heart that I will protect your children if I have to go to hell to do it.”
Somewhere nearby, thunder rolled, as if the heavens had heard her oath.
Inside, her stomach rolled, because somehow she understood that both she and Yenrieth had just been set on a course that would change their lives forever.
About Larissa Ione
Air Force veteran Larissa Ione traded in a career as a meteorologist to pursue her passion of writing. She now spends her days in pajamas with her computer, strong coffee, and supernatural worlds. She believes in celebrating everything, and would never be caught without a bottle of Champagne chilling in the fridge… just in case. She currently lives in Wisconsin with her U.S. Coast Guard husband, her teenage son, a rescue cat named Vegas, and her very own hellhound, a King Shepherd named Hexe.