Chaos Bites (Phoenix Chronicles, #4)

My breath caught as he slit my shirt down the front. Moist, muggy air swirled against exposed skin. Placing the tip of the knife at the center of my chest, he flicked his wrist and cut my bra in half so that my breasts spilled free.

Mait muttered something in another language, his gaze captured by the copper-tipped globes. The weapon clattered to the ground; my arms tumbled to my sides as he filled both hands with soft, round flesh.

He was rough. He no doubt needed to be. He was one of those who had to hurt, perhaps be hurt, but he couldn’t hurt me.

He teased me—gentle to sharp, tongue to teeth. Grabbing my hand, he pressed it to his erection. I jumped. When had he released his pants so that they pooled at his ankles?

Locking our fingers together, he curled his palm around mine so that I held the head between my thumb and forefinger, then he slid back and forth, back and forth. From the depth of his moans, he was close to coming.

I shook my head, tried to focus. I couldn’t jack him off. There’d be nothing left for me. However, if I told him what I wanted, he probably wouldn’t give it to me. Nephilim were like that. I’d have to beg for the exact opposite.

“Go ahead,” I urged, moving my hand faster. “You know that you want to.”

His motions slowed, his moans stopped, and his eyes snapped open. “Not yet,” he growled, and ripped at the fastenings of my jeans.

From that moment on things moved quickly, which was fine by me. The sooner the better. I wanted this done.

I tried to close my eyes and think of England. Problem was, I needed to come, and England just didn’t do it for me.

I didn’t want to think of Jimmy or Sawyer. I couldn’t bear to pair what we’d had with the memory of Mait. Even though I’d chosen this, even though I was doing it for them, tonight wasn’t a night to remember.

Instead, I let my mind go blank, let my body take over. If he hadn’t been a half-demon stranger I’d followed into a dark alley, I might consider Mait decent in bed. Against the wall, not so much. Still, when I didn’t think, when I forced myself only to feel, things happened.

Mait flexed and released, flexed and released, sliding in and out, filling me, emptying me. I lost track of time. The guy had the stamina of a racehorse.

Minutes, hours, days later, he pressed his forehead to mine. “I cannot until you do.”

I’d met guys like him before—in handcuffs.

While most rapists wanted to assuage their pain by causing someone else’s, vent their anger, show their dominance—some liked to pretend it wasn’t rape by making the woman participate. Some couldn’t get off unless they managed to “satisfy” the object of their twisted affection.

I hated those guys. The women who were assaulted by them were more traumatized than the ones attacked by any of the others. Maybe because the asshole made them believe they must have wanted it, wanted him, otherwise why would they have climaxed?

Mait licked the tip of his thumb and, holding my gaze, slipped his hand between us and unerringly found the right place. He continued to stare into my eyes as he rolled his thumb in a circle, all the while sliding in and out, faster and faster until—

I came.

My body convulsed, tightening around him. His breath caught; his eyes went blank. In them I saw myself—my face stark, blue eyes wide, framed against the dark stones of the building like the sacrifice I’d made of myself.

I couldn’t watch. As I continued to quiver in reaction, I shut my eyes against the night and as the orgasm drained away, lightning flashed from a clear sky, leaving behind an ozone-scented wind. The flare of power as it passed between us was like boiling oil in the blood—painful but also exhilarating. Magic so often was.

I pushed aside thoughts of what I’d done—time enough for those later, or not, I hoped—and focused on what I needed to do. My eyes opened, though they very badly wanted to stay closed, just as Mait released me.

My legs slid down; my feet touched the ground. I bit my lip until it bled, refusing to crumble. When he bent to grab his pants, I slid my hand into the fanny pack that had twisted around my waist almost to my back, and removed the charmed knife.

As he straightened, I jabbed the point toward his eye. I hadn’t even cleared the protection of my thigh when he grabbed my wrist and twisted. I was strong, damn near invincible, but I couldn’t keep my fingers clenched against that move, and the knife clattered to the pavement.

At first, I panicked, thinking he was too close to fight, especially with my pants around my ankles. Then my free hand flicked, and he flew, smashing into the opposite wall before landing on the ground. Since he was a Nephilim, he got right back up.

I wasted no time, grabbing my jeans, searching for the weapon. It was gone.

“Lookin’ for dis?” Mait held my knife in one hand and the dagger Jimmy had bought in the other. “One of a sosye’s powers is that things come when summoned.”

“Really?” I put out my hand, and Jimmy’s dagger flew across the short distance between us. I snatched it out of the air. “Like that?”