Rogue Rider

  “That wasn’t much of a swim,” he said, for lack of anything cleverer to say. This female had scrambled his brain.

  “I needed to cool off,” she purred. “It has been far too hot for comfort.”

  Yenrieth casually dropped his hand and shifted to hide his rebellious manhood.

  She took her lower lip between her teeth, and he swore she undulated as if under a male, engaging in sensual foreplay. “What about you? Have you been… hot?”

  Hot? He was on fire. Steam coursed through his veins instead of blood and his skin had practically melted to his muscles. With effort, he pushed aside his lust long enough to regard her with a critical, if not appreciative, eye. She was clearly a sexual woman, perhaps a kept consort for one of the local royals. Kept or… paid.

  “Are you a whore?”

  Her deep, throaty laughter rolled through him in another wave of lust. “Some may say so.” She smiled wryly. “But they don’t say it twice.” A breeze rustled the bushes near the spot where he’d incinerated the hellrat, and Lilith’s smile widened, as if she approved of what he’d done.

  “How is it that you weren’t surprised by what you saw me do?”

  One dainty shoulder rolled in a shrug. “I have bedded men who have shown me many things.”

  A vague answer, but one that made sense. She very well could have bedded someone versed in magic, or an Aegis warrior, or even a demon.

  He nearly curled his lip at the thought of bedding a vile spawn of Sheoul. Not only was sex with a demon a violation of heavenly law, but there were always consequences. No, as an angel, he was required to limit his intimate play to angels and humans, and even then, there were strict rules.

  “Are you married?” he asked, and once again, she laughed.

  “Never.” She moved toward him, her hips swaying hypnotically. “Do you want me?”

  More than he’d ever wanted anything. “No.”

  “Truly,” she murmured, reaching out to trail her finger along his jaw and down his neck. Pleasure blazed along the path she drew. “Then I’ll leave you with this.”

  She went up on her toes, and without thinking, he dipped his head to meet her welcoming mouth. In an instant, the fire inside him turned into an inferno, scorching him. This female was lightning wrapped in shimmering skin.

  He dragged in a ragged breath, taking in her scent, seeking a sign that she might be fertile, because it was forbidden for an angel to breed with a human. But all he got was a rich, spicy aroma, as if a flower had bloomed in a field of cardamom.

  Her lips were velvet against his, her tongue silk. She arched, pressing the length of her remarkable body into his. Her breasts flattened against his chest, her nipples rubbing, and he wondered how they’d taste. Her core met his hard staff, and he hissed at the contact. He felt her smile, and then she stepped back, breaking away from him so abruptly he nearly lost his balance.

  Which only made sense, since this female had him off balance since she’d arrived.

  “Farewell,” she murmured. “I’ll return on the morrow, if you’d care to join me.”

  With that, she strolled into the forest, disappearing before he could so much as catch his breath.

  Tomorrow. Maybe once his head cleared, he’d decide it was a bad idea to meet her, but right now he was wondering how to make the sun rise faster.

  Lilith was in dire need of sex by the time she arrived at the shack she shared with her sister, Sabbet. She hated living in the human realm, but until a succubus of her species became pregnant, she couldn’t make a proper home in Sheoul. And the bitch of it was that her species wasn’t fertile until somewhere between their five hundredth and one thousandth year.

  She found Sabbet midcoitus with a half-demon male who had serviced them for decades when they were too lazy to find a human male to fuck. Sabbet continued to ride the male, Ashan, who was on his back on her pallet, as Lilith entered the shack. The scent of sex drove Lilith mad with want, and she clenched her teeth against the desire to either shove Sabbet off the demon or go back to the pool to see if Yenrieth was still there.

  She would do neither. Just a few days ago, she’d have spent hours with Ashan, but she was saving herself for Yenrieth.

  Saving herself? She shook her head to clear it. Why in the name of all that was unholy would she save herself?

  Frustrated, she snarled, kicking the demon as she strode past, seeking the flagon of wine they kept on their rickety wooden table. She drank deeply, hoping the liquid would ease the fever in her body. Yenrieth’s kiss had stirred her into a frenzy, and it had taken more self-control than she’d ever needed to keep from palming his cock while they kissed. Visions of dropping to her knees and taking him in her mouth had filled her head. She took almost as much pleasure from watching a male come as she did from coming herself, and she instinctively knew that Yenrieth’s climax would be nothing short of remarkable. His hard body would strain, and all that magnificent vitality and strength would be unleashed inside her.

  Finally, the sounds of sex reached the peak, and a moment later, Sabbet joined Lilith at the table, wrapped in a sheer robe. Ashan dressed quickly and scurried out the door.

  “Where have you been?” Sabbet asked.

  “I was seducing an angel.”

  Sabbet went taut, her eyes narrowing into angry silver slits. “Yenrieth?”

  Interesting. “Yes. Why?”

  Sabbet’s hiss sprayed droplets of spittle. “I want him for my heat.”

  “Your—” Lilith sucked in a breath.

  Heat. Dear dark lord, that was what was wrong with her. It also explained why she’d walked away from him instead of pressuring him into copulation. A breeding succubus needed a male to be as worked up and fertile as possible when she took his seed.

  Her fingers fluttered to her belly, which, if things went right, would soon be swollen with an angel’s baby. And oh, giving birth to the offspring of an angel would take her far in Sheoul. She could use the child in so many ways to bring herself power and glory.

  Smiling, she brought the clay flagon to her lips, but Sabbet knocked it away, spilling wine the color of blood down Lilith’s chest.

  “Stay away from him,” Sabbet growled. “He’s mine.”

  Fury twisted Lilith’s heart, wringing out every drop of affection for her sister. Now was not the time to play fair. This was Lilith’s future at stake, and the angel’s passion would secure it.

  Spinning, she grabbed one of the knives hanging on the wall and brought it down in the soft spot between Sabbet’s neck and shoulder. Her sister screamed, then screamed louder when Lilith plunged the dagger into her abdomen. Sabbet staggered backward, tripping over her pallet and crumpling to the ground. Lilith fell with her, stabbing over and over into her sister’s belly, reveling in the grotesque, squishy sounds.

  When her sister fell silent, Lilith stood, bathed in blood. Oh, how she’d love to get Yenrieth here to fuck in the slippery warmth. Not that he would. Angels, by all accounts, tended to be prissy.

  Lilith licked the blade as she hovered over what was left of her sister. Oh, Sabbet would recover in time, but it would be a decade, at least, before her ruined womb could support a child. By then, her heat would have passed and she’d have to wait another couple of centuries for another. In the meantime, Lilith would become a force to be reckoned with, and Sabbet wouldn’t dare challenge her once she arrived in Sheoul.

  Oh, yes, Lilith had it all figured out. If all went according to plan, she would become a legend in Sheoul, practically godlike… perhaps she could even take a place next to the dark lord himself.

  All she needed was Yenrieth. And tomorrow she would have him.

  Yenrieth spent the longest day of his life in the forest hunting hellrats with Verrine. She’d noticed he’d been distracted, and she kept asking what had happened and if there was something she could do to help. How could he tell her that the only thing on his mind was wicked, raw sex with a woman who all but oozed sensuality?

  No, Verrine, wh
o hadn’t yet been intimate with a man, would have no understanding of the pleasures of the body. He’d asked her once why she’d never bedded a male, not even during the maddening cycle of maturity when an angel grew his or her wings. Sex could hasten the painful process… or in the very least, take one’s mind off it.

  But Verrine had simply shrugged and said she was waiting for the right male. She was an angel of justice in training, so Yenrieth figured that maybe she saw consequences more clearly than others. Possible, he supposed, since, as a battle angel, he was much more prone to hard living, ruthlessness, and rash actions.

  And true to his nature, he’d acted rashly and he’d kissed Verrine. Today. In the forest. He was still kicking himself for that. But when she’d touched his cheek with the greatest of care, asking him what was weighing so heavily on his mind, he couldn’t tell her the truth. So he’d kissed her.

  It had been the sweetest kiss he’d ever shared with anyone. For a few heartbeats, Verrine had wiped Lilith from his thoughts. The desire that had been coursing through his veins all night and into the morning had shifted into something less frantic but no less heated.

  Then Verrine had torn away from him, her eyes wild, her entire being wrought with distress. Before he could apologize, she’d flashed away, leaving him feeling like a brutal clod. She’d been waiting for the right male to take her to bed… what if she’d been waiting for the right male for her first kiss too?

  Ashamed, he thought about going after her, but he doubted she’d be receptive to his apology right now. Or ever.

  Yenrieth cursed himself for a fool and flashed to the pool, needing a distraction. Lilith would be perfect for that.

  Sure enough, the moment he caught sight of her, his rashness with Verrine melted away, leaving his focus narrowed on the naked female swimming with leisurely abandon. He remained at the edge of the clearing, his heart pounding in a nervous, erratic rhythm. He was never nervous, especially with females, but this one left him dangerously off kilter.

  Frankly, it pissed him off.

  Lilith floated to the shallows and gracefully eased out of the water and onto the shore. As she walked toward a blanket spread in the lush grass farther up the bank, she squeezed her hair, creating a stream of water that trickled down her breasts. Yenrieth wanted to lick her dry.

  Then lick her wet.

  Droplets on her skin shimmered in the sunlight as she sank down on the blanket and poured a cup of wine from the vessel beside her. She brought the cup to her lips, and as she drank, she looked directly at him.

  Caught.

  His heart beat faster. Harder. The throbbing pulse went all the way to his sex. In an almost dreamlike state, he moved toward her, his gaze fixed on hers, his mouth practically watering in anticipation.

  Smiling, Lilith shifted, letting her thighs fall open to reveal her smooth female flesh, the delicate pink center glistening. His body reacted to the sight, hardening and buzzing with every step.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she said, patting the blanket.

  “I wasn’t sure I would.”

  Her knowing smile said she knew he was lying. “Sit.”

  Her command, softly spoken, brought him to a stop. He didn’t like being ordered around, least of all by a human.

  Again, she seemed to have intimate knowledge of his thoughts, and she reached out to him. “Please. I meant no offense. I simply can’t wait to have you next to me.”

  He took her hand, marveling at how soft it was, and allowed her to pull him down. Her remarkable eyes darkened, and he swore that for a moment her entire body did the same. She held the cup to his lips.

  In a husky voice, she said, “Please. Take what is mine.”

  Yes. He already felt like he’d imbibed a barrel of wine as he allowed her to tip the cup up, spilling the sweet nectar into his mouth. A tiny rivulet dribbled down his chin, and she leaned forward to trace the stream with her tongue. He barely held in a moan as she followed the trail of wine to his lips, and then inside his mouth.

  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 mi
nutes 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.