Ecstasy Unveiled

  With no finesse whatsoever, he tore open her pants and yanked them down, along with her silky white panties. He helped her step out of them… and then he stayed there. On his knees.

  Oh, damn. The junction between her legs… beautiful. Breathtaking. Bare. His mouth actually watered as his palms drifted upward, from her ankles to her thighs. When he couldn’t stand it anymore, he leaned in to kiss the sweet, satin skin on her inner thigh. Her yelp drifted down to him, and she jerked, but he sank his teeth into her leg, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to hold her where she was.

  This was the second time he’d bitten her. He had no idea where the urge was coming from, but it was powerful, animalistic, and he was running with it.

  “Lore,” she gasped. “I’ve never… maybe we should just… you know, use our hands…”

  Hell, no. Now that he had her like this, the way he’d been fantasizing, he was so going to eat her up. He slipped his tongue between his teeth and made wet circles on her skin. She trembled, and he knew how she felt, because inside he was shaking like a leaf.

  Gently, he released his bite hold, but before she could escape, he kissed her soft skin and then dragged his tongue up her inner thigh. He stopped just short of home, kissing, licking, rubbing his cheek on her.

  As he played, she got into it more and more, thrusting her fingers through his hair and gently guiding him. Not that he let her. He was going to tease the hell out of this, for as long as they could both stand it.

  He nuzzled the outer hills of her flawless sex, and her musky arousal went straight to his cock. His hips rocked upward as though trying to reach her and that tight place he craved. Down, boy.

  He gently nipped her inner thigh and settled down on his hip. “Straddle me, angel. Get closer. I need to taste you.” His experience doing this was… well, he didn’t have any. But he was half sex demon, and those instincts were roaring to the surface, giving him a desire and a confidence he couldn’t explain.

  She hesitated only for as long as it took her to exhale before she spread her legs more and moved in so that beautiful slit was at mouth level. Tilting his face up, he closed his lips over her. Her breath hitched, and he heard the slap of her palms against the house as she braced herself.

  Lore wanted this like he’d wanted very little before, but he didn’t rush. He let his tongue sweep back and forth lightly over her swollen sex, savoring her growing anticipation.

  “You’re a tease,” she said, angling her hips to bring her even closer, but he turned away, not giving her what she wanted.

  This was his show. She’d ruined him for self-gratification, and though the implications of that were troubling, right now wasn’t the time to worry about it. He was going to torture her a little and make her beg.

  Though he was definitely getting the better deal out of this situation. Didn’t matter how good her orgasm would be, he would be the one to find satisfaction.

  He rubbed his face on her thighs, sometimes brushing his lips over her core. Each time, she jerked, and each time, he made her sweat. Finally, when his heart started knocking on his rib cage as though urging him on, he touched his mouth to her naked, hot flesh.

  More slowly than he thought he would ever be capable of, he slipped his tongue into her slick valley. She whimpered at the contact, and then went silent as he speared her core. Easing his fingers upward, he penetrated her while he sucked and licked every inch of her pink flesh. Working with a ruthless singlemindedness, he learned her responses and targeted every erogenous zone.

  He gave, but he also took, and as his tongue delved in her cream, he swallowed her like a decadent dessert. She was soft and smooth and rich, and fuck, he could do this for days straight.

  “Oh, yes,” she moaned. “Right… there.”

  She was close. So he stopped what he’d been doing and dragged his tongue through her cleft. Her cry of frustration made him smile. While she came down off the ledge, he kissed her lightly, always shifting sensation so she couldn’t catch it for too long where she needed it.

  He wanted to hear her cry his name in her passion. Wanted to know that he’d gotten to her and that she knew he was the engineer of her pleasure.

  The slow dance of his tongue drove her crazy, had her shifting her hips to chase the pleasure. “Lore, make me come.”

  “Beg.”

  “Damn you.” The words were harsh but the tone was one of extreme arousal and delicious agony.

  “Spread yourself for me, Idess.”

  With a small sound of relief, she slid her palm down her belly and parted her hot flesh. He blew a stream of air over her, and she shuddered. He flicked the tip of his tongue over her clit, and her shudders turned to convulsions of ecstasy. Just as she began to peak, he drew back once more.

  “Beg.”

  “Lore,” she sobbed. “Please, Lore. Please!”

  Victory swept through him. He captured her core with his lips and sucked gently, swirling his tongue at the same time. Her release hit her with so much force that her pleasure actually rocked through him as though they were connected. Her scream—his name—vibrated the patio and her legs shook, and then she was sliding down to her knees in front of him as though they would no longer support her weight.

  It took an eternity for Idess to catch her breath. She felt boneless, weak, yet at the same time, a new energy churned inside her. She couldn’t describe it, but it came with butterflies in her stomach and warmth in her veins.

  The rasp of Lore’s breathing filled her ears as she clung to him. Satiation shifted as a different instinct took over, and she took his hard length in her hand. She squeezed gently as she pushed herself away from his chest. He was watching her with curiosity, but at the same time, need flickered in those dark eyes, a reminder that this wasn’t entirely about orgasms just for fun. His very life depended on what she could give him.

  Anticipation made her heart race as she began to stroke. His hiss of pleasure joined the rustle of leaves and calls of the birds in the trees.

  “Idess,” he croaked, “I’m not… not going to last long. I need it too badly.” Closing his eyes, he sucked in a ragged breath and threw his head back. “In fact… ah, fuck…”

  The sun caressed his face as he began to jerk, his big body surging and straining. His come splashed on her hand, and she used it as lubrication to speed up her strokes. A dark rumble of approval issued from his throat, then he was in the throes of orgasm again, this time eyes open and fixed on her with possessive hunger. He growled something that sounded like mine, before throwing back his head again and riding out the series of intense spasms.

  “Now that was amazing,” she murmured, when he finally gripped her wrist—with his left hand, she noticed—to stop her.

  “Amazing? Try embarrassing. I lasted all of two seconds.”

  She laughed. “Not as embarrassing as things will be if we get caught by your sister out here.”

  “True.” He reached for the towel, and as he was wrapping it around his waist, the dove cooed. “Did that thing watch us the whole time? The little pervert.”

  “I’m sure he wasn’t watching,” she said, as she tugged on her pants. “He’s just grateful.”

  Still, Lore glared up at the trees. “So if you and other angels can save lives, why is it that people die?”

  “Dying is the natural order of things.”

  “Okay… but I mean, you hear stories of miracles, of angels saving lives. Why just those few people? Why are they deserving and others aren’t? Why does the drunk driver live and the innocent victims die?”

  Idess watched the sunlight caress his handsome, angular features like a lover, as though not even nature could resist the temptation of a demon made for sex. “What makes you think that being saved from death means one is deserving?”

  “Yeah,” he drawled, as he cocked one knee up and draped his arm over it, “that’s a crazy question.”

  She loved it when he got playful, even if his playful was pretty much just sarcasm. “The drunk
driver is not given a gift by surviving. He’s given more hell on Earth. He’s either being punished, or his soul has something more to learn while earthbound. He might even be Primori whose actions lead to new laws or to activism that ultimately saves more lives. But the victims? Their souls are already perfected and ready for their reward.”

  “At the risk of sounding like a moron… huh?”

  She laughed. “Life on Earth truly means little to angels, because we’re concerned with the soul, not the body. The soul is the true essence of a person or animal. Life on the other side, in Heaven, is the true existence. In fact, those in Heaven see those who are earthbound as the ghosts. The way humans see spirits, as transparent beings, is how those in Heaven see us from there.” She waved her hand. “All of this? It’s hell in comparison. But humans don’t know that until they ‘die.’ What you call dying is, to us, birth.”

  “Then why would angels rescue anyone in those miraculous saves? Why not just let everyone die and go to Heaven?”

  Idess had asked those same questions many centuries ago, and though Rami had tried to explain, it took centuries to truly understand. “Because there is a purpose to life on earth. Most of the ‘miracles’ you hear about are Primori who were saved by their Memitim. A child falls from a twenty-story building and survives without a scratch. A woman is found alive beneath the rubble of a building two weeks after hope was lost. A man is hanged and his rope breaks before he is strangled. All Memitim saves. Mine, actually.”

  Idly, he reached out with his right hand and drew circles on her knee, hesitantly at first, but he smiled at what most wouldn’t consider even a simple pleasure. “But is that always the case? You saved the dove. What if he was supposed to die?”

  “Then nothing I could have done would have made a difference. When I channel my power into a human or animal, either they are healed or their soul is released. It’s kind of like draining them. I drain the life out of them, or I drain the death out of them. Either way, I prevent suffering and restore life… on the earthly plane or in the heavenly one.”

  “So why didn’t you do that with me when I had a knife impaled in my throat?”

  “Because I never know which result I’ll get. I could have used it on you, only to send your soul away. I couldn’t risk it.” His loss could have cost her Ascension, but more than that, she would have lost him. If his soul was demon, he’d have been gone forever.

  Her stomach turned inside out, but strangely, it wasn’t because his soul might not be human. No, what had just sickened her was the reality that she’d come to care for him so much that she’d do anything to not lose him. She wanted him to stay with her.

  Those same feelings had led to her betrayal of Rami.

  Lore seemed to sense her anxiety, and she could have kissed him when he changed the subject. “You’ve never really talked about your mother. Have you met her?”

  “We have no contact until we Ascend, and even then… I don’t know.” Didn’t really matter, she supposed. To Idess, her mother was the human who had raised her with as much love as she had to give.

  A breeze kicked up, rustling the leaves, and Lore turned his face into it, closing his eyes as he spoke. “So… how is it that the Grim Reaper and an angel get it on? Is there some sort of pickup bar where they meet and flirt and get drunk and take each other home, or what?”

  Idess laughed at that particular image. “I’m not sure about the details, but Rami told me that a handful of angels volunteered to be birth mothers, just as Azagoth volunteered to fall for the good of the world. He can’t leave his realm, though, so they go to him.”

  “How many baby mamas are there?”

  “According to Rami, there are seventy-two. He was a scholar of human religions, and he was always convinced that many traditions and beliefs are loosely based in fact.”

  “Like the seventy-two-virgin thing for Muslim martyrs?”

  “Exactly. That number came from somewhere, and Rami believes it is based on Memitim mothers. He also believes that ‘virgin’ is actually a mistranslation and should read ‘angels.’ ” She snorted. “As if any man would get seventy-two angels as a reward.”

  “How about one angel?” Lore’s voice was husky and thick, a caress that made her shiver with appreciation.

  “I’m not technically an angel yet,” she said, “so I don’t think I count.”

  He touched her face. “You’re looking forward to going, aren’t you?”

  The question dove right to her gut and stirred it up even more, because for the first time since learning what she was and what her reward for good service would be, she was actually wavering.

  “I can’t wait to get out of here.” Really. She couldn’t. As she’d told Lore, Earth was hell. There was suffering and pain and cruelty.

  And hot men like Lore.

  Hurt flashed in his eyes, and he shoved to his feet. “Yeah, sucks here. Nothing worth wanting to hang around for.”

  “Lore, I didn’t mean—”

  “S’okay. We’d better get ready to go hunting. Sin will be here any minute.”

  She stood and reached for him. “Lore.”

  Ignoring her, he strode into the house, leaving her feeling more wretched than she’d been since the day she betrayed Rami.

  By the time Lore dressed and outfitted himself with weapons, it was time for Sin to show. And Idess was back. She’d flashed from his deck after he’d left her out there, obviously to go home and change, because now she was wearing jeans, sexy, calf-high boots, and a funky, multi-color Versace sweatshirt.

  Let’s see you wear that in Heaven. Yeah, he was a little bitter, though he had no idea why. What had he expected when he’d asked her a question he didn’t want the answer to? A declaration of everlasting love and a willingness to give up everything to stay with him? Just because they’d masturbated each other a couple of times? Just because she was the only female on the planet not related to him who could touch his arm and not keel over?

  Geez, Idess could have at least made it sound like leaving him on earth would mean a minute or two of sniffles.

  Right, because she’ll be so upset to say good-bye to a demon who practically demanded that she get on her knees and be a whore for him.

  Fuck. With an extra-firm shove of his trench knife into its belt sheath, he made the mental slide into assassin mode. He couldn’t afford emo whining when he was hunting.

  But he really did feel like a piece of shit for how he’d treated her earlier, so he downshifted just a little. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a lover of designer fashion,” he said gruffly.

  “I’m not. But I try to buy local when I can.” She lifted one leg to show off her boot. “Italian leather. Love it.”

  He did, too. The way it hugged her calves. Made her legs go on forever. He let out an appreciative whistle as he dragged his gaze up. “Where do you get your money, anyway?”

  She shrugged. “I think about it, and it’s there.”

  “Must be nice.” Nice to not have to kill people for it. So much for assassin mode. God, Idess was hell on his discipline.

  She nodded vehemently. “It is.”

  The front door crashed open. Whirling, Lore put himself in front of Idess, a dagger in one hand and a pistol in the other.

  “Hey, there, brother,” Wraith said, in a deceptively calm drawl. Deceptive, because the demon’s body language—his clenched fists, coiled body, and red-flecked gold eyes—said he was ready to cause some damage. And oh, great, Kynan was with him, looking even more pissed off than Wraith.

  Instantly, Idess came around to put herself between Lore and Kynan. Not happening. All of Lore’s protective instincts came to bear, and with a snarl, he pushed her behind him again. She might not want to stay with him, but until she got her damned wings, she was his, and no one was going to fuck with her.

  She poofed right back to where she’d been, damn her.

  “Kynan, you shouldn’t be here,” she said, standing in the middle of the living room, hands o
n hips.

  “No?” He glared at Lore. “I’m what he wants, right? So here I am. Give Wraith the baby.”

  “I don’t have Shade’s kid.”

  Wraith bared his fangs. “You’d better, because if you’ve left him with anyone other than Mary fucking Poppins, there won’t be enough left of you to fill a juice glass.”

  “You deaf? I don’t have him.” Lore holstered his weapons before he killed his brother. Sure, he wanted to kill Kynan, but he’d do that with his bare hand.

  “He’s telling the truth.” Not backing down at all, Idess folded her arms over her chest. “I’ve been with him.”

  Wraith snarled. “Even when he was being tortured? Because he looks pretty damned good for a tortured man.”

  “I was healed, you idiot.”

  “Call me that again.” Grinning, Wraith flexed his fingers. “Seriously.”

  Lore stepped forward. “Idiot.”

  Kynan came at him. Lore angled his right side away, not ready to kill the bastard yet, and the move cost him. Cost him a fist to the face. Pain burst behind his eyes, and he wheeled around, too angry to think, and caught the human with his right hand—which got him a jab to the ribs. What the fuck? Why hadn’t the guy dropped dead?

  … I drain the death out of them. Idess’s words popped into his mind just before the right hook that laid him out.

  Lore came to his feet before Kynan could kick him, and Jesus, Wraith was grinning, and Idess was watching with her arms crossed, foot tapping, and just looking annoyed. Obviously, without his power, Lore was no mortal threat to Kynan. And Kynan was out to cause pain, not death.

  Making it all even more fun was the fact that no matter how hard Lore tried to cripple Kynan, something always went wrong. He couldn’t land a single punch or kick. Kynan was merciless, using Lore’s failures against him.

  Lore took a nice beating before finally Idess flashed between them and heaved them apart with her incredible strength.

  “Enough!”

  Panting, he and Kynan glared at each other. Wraith stepped forward. “If you two are done—”