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“Drape your legs over my shoulders,” he rasped out, reaching up to roll one of those beautiful nipples between his fingers.
This time she obeyed without hesitation, gasping, trying to grind up against him. When he felt her heels digging into his lower back, he parted the damp folds guarding the new center of his world and bent his head for a taste.
Her flavor was intoxicating. Addicting. Rich and sweet, the perfection he remembered. He circled her c.l.i.toris, teasing it, while he sank two fingers inside her. Her cry echoed throughout the bedroom.
“I can’t believe I resisted you, even for a second.”
“More.”
“Have I told you yet how beautiful you are? How much I love you?”
“More!”
He chuckled. On and on he tongued her, his fingers never ceasing their ministrations. Her head thrashed back and forth, strawberry curls flying in every direction, body writhing.
“More,” she chanted. “More, more, more.”
When he brought a third finger into play, she immediately began spasming, holding him inside, muscles locking tight. He sucked her c.l.i.t harder…longer…drawing out her climax.
Only when she screamed his name, only when she collapsed against the mattress limply, did he release her. He crawled up her body, c.o.c.k begging to penetrate her tight little sheath. But he didn’t. Not yet.
Her eyelids blinked open. Luminous amber irises peered up at him, white teeth nibbling at her bottom lip.
“I’m not going to hurt you, ever again,” he vowed, and then flipped her to her stomach. “Let me prove it.”
She gasped, instantly reared back to knock his weight off her, but he reached down and flattened his chest to her back, stopping the frantic flutter of her wings. She stilled. Don’t panic on me, darling. Next he flattened his hands over hers, mes.h.i.+ng his c.o.c.k between her lower cheeks, his legs outside hers. He was panting, warm breath trekking wildly over her shoulders.
“I owe these precious wings a proper apology,” he said, lifting his weight. “Will you allow me to touch them?”
Thankfully, she didn’t try to buck him off again. She did stop breathing, though. He heard the hitch of it in her throat. Unable to speak, she nodded.
“Make them stop,” he said. “Please.”
Gradually, the wings calmed.
Inch by inch, he covered each delicate wing with a kiss. They were soft, like silk, and cool to the touch, the perfect contrast to his heat. There wasn’t a single hint of feathers, which surprised him. They were nearly translucent, blue veins intertwining from top to bottom, flowing like crystal rivers.
Just then he hated himself for what he’d done to her. How could he have bound these beautiful wings, even for a moment?
“I’m sorry,” he said. “So sorry. I shouldn’t have done it. No excuse is good enough.”
“I—I forgive you.” The words were husky, wine-rich. “I do understand why you did it. I don’t like that you did it, but I do understand.”
“I’ll make it up to you, I swear it. I—”
“Need you inside me. Now.” Frantically she moved her backside against him, seeking the head of his shaft. “You’ve made me desperate. I need more.”
“Yes. Yes.” Wait. Slow down. “Fertile yet?”
“No.”
Speed back up. Sabin gripped her hips and slammed all the way to the hilt. They cried out in unison. So good. Felt so good. Better than before, hotter, wetter. More fulfilling. They were connected, one being, fused together. She belonged to him, and he to her.
Bending down, he pressed his stomach to her back, reached around and thrummed her c.l.i.t with one hand and kneaded her b.r.e.a.s.t.s with the other, attacking every possible pleasure-point. She lifted her body, grabbing the headboard again and sinking deeper onto his c.o.c.k.
s.h.i.+t, he wasn’t going to last much longer. He was at the edge, had been at the edge for days already. But over and over he hammered inside her, slipping, sliding, no longer Sabin, only Gwen’s man.
A scream suddenly reverberated through the room, and she was once again locking down on him, milking him. Just like that, Sabin hurtled over, pleasure consuming him, was.h.i.+ng him in great waves of sensation.
They stayed like that forever, still joined, before collapsing against the mattress. Sabin quickly rolled to her side, not wanting to smash her with his weight. Well, not wanting to smash her again.
Unable to release her, even for a second, he pulled her into his side and she eagerly snuggled against him. This, he decided, must be what heaven was like.
“Twice now you’ve asked me if I was fertile, which leads me to believe you can have children,” she said between breaths, the husky announcement breaking the silence. “Even Ashlyn is pregnant, though I a.s.sumed she had gotten that way before she arrived here. Oh, wait. Galen helped make me, so you guys can reproduce.”
“Yes, and yes, Ashlyn’s child is Maddox’s. The conditions for conceiving have to be just right, but we can indeed father kids. I’m sure you’ve read the stories of the G.o.ds impregnating humans.”
“Yeah, but you guys weren’t born in the traditional way,” she countered. “You were created by Zeus himself. I would think you’d be…lacking in…you know…baby serum.”
Baby serum? He had to cut back a laugh. “We have a lot more hormones, white blood cells and other necessary components than humans. It’s one of the reasons we’re able to heal so quickly. Most females’ bodies cannot handle that potent a…serum, so they begin fighting and killing it.”
“Think I could handle it?”
“I think you could handle anything.”
Gradually she relaxed against him. Might even have smiled. “Do you ever want to have kids?”
He never had before. His life had been too turbulent. But he liked the thought of creating a baby with Gwen. A baby just like her, increasing this new blessing in his life. “Yeah. Someday, just not yet. Not until it’s safe.”
Her expression was pensive. “Safe.” She sighed and changed the subject. “I don’t want you to stop fighting Hunters, but I don’t know if I’ll stay with you.”
“Fair enough.” Though he’d use his dying breath to convince her to stay. And he hadn’t lied. He’d follow her. Wherever she went, he’d follow. Getting rid of him was going to be a b.i.t.c.h of a problem. “But don’t expect me to watch you walk away and do nothing.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that just yet. First, I’m going to help you find your friends. Can you trust me to do that?”
“Yes. I could discover you hugging Galen and I wouldn’t doubt you.” He said it with confidence. Meant it. Gwen was the one thing in his life that he would never have to doubt.
A laugh bubbled from her. “That I would have to see to believe.” She traced her fingertips along his chest. “I need to talk to my sisters.”
“Good luck with that.” He captured them and brought them to his lips.
Another sigh. “I half expected them to leave. But deep down I knew they’d stay just to punish me for what I did to them.”
“They won’t hurt you.” He wouldn’t allow it.
She twined their hands and gave a gentle squeeze. “How are Danika and Ashlyn?”
“Grateful to you, worried about the missing men.”
Frowning, Gwen sat up, hair tumbling gloriously down her back. “I’m going to shower, clear my head. Will you call a meeting with everyone here in, say…an hour?”
He didn’t ask why she wished to have the meeting, he simply trusted her, as he’d said he would. “Consider it done.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
GIDEON WAS SLOWLY GOING INSANE. He’d lost track of time and didn’t know how long he’d been trapped. A day? Two? A year? There wasn’t a sliver of light to cling to, nothing to remind himself that there was a world out there—a world he would soon return to by fair means or foul.
First, he needed a little peace and quiet to think up an escape plan.His demon, usually just a presence in the back of his mind, had yet to stop screaming inside his head. “In, in, in,” it cried, meaning, “Out, out, out.” “Need dark, need dark,” it sobbed, meaning, “Need light, need light.” Lies thought it was locked inside Pandora’s box once more, unable to escape, forgotten, abandoned.
Apparently, the other demons thought the same. Lucien moaned frequently, though Anya was always there to soothe him. Reyes was surprisingly calm. He’d mutter Danika’s name, then wouldn’t speak again for hours. Amun growled and snarled low in his throat, as though he were fighting a horde of demons Gideon couldn’t even imagine. The secrets that must be playing through his head…
Strider, who had been outsmarted and therefore had lost a mind game, constantly banged his head against the wall, his demon probably screeching, his body definitely agonized. Gideon had seen the warrior lose only once, hundreds of years ago, but the consequences of that loss were imprinted in his memory. Never had he seen a grown man writhe with such force, tears streaming down his ashen face, eyes flas.h.i.+ng anguish rather than the usual pride, teeth grinding so vigorously blood poured from them.
Concentrate, dummy. Many times the entire group had tried prying the window shutters open or hacking through the brick walls. Anya, the only one who still had use of her abilities, muted though they were, had blasted tornados through the chamber, but she’d only hurt the men, not the building. Everything had been fortified and then refortified—with spells?—until their prison was seemingly unbreachable.
“I’m going to look for a way out again,” Anya said. She was the calmest of the group—an ironic twist, since she thrived on chaos. There was a rustle of clothing, a moan from Lucien, a coo from Anya, and then the shuffle of footsteps.
Gideon had always been reluctant to commit to a woman, preferring variety. Right now that seemed stupid. He had no one to think about, wish for, or dream of. No one to keep him focused, as Reyes had. No one to comfort him, as Lucien had.