He positioned himself between her thighs and pushed against her opening. She arched, giving him even more access, and his head slid into her warmth.
“Tight,” he groaned. “Ah, damn, you’re tight.” Her eyes caught his, held them as he pushed in a little more. Like many angels, she didn’t seem to have a barrier, but the invasion still couldn’t be comfortable. “Does it hurt?”
“No,” she breathed. “It just feels...right.”
She couldn’t have said anything better. Throwing back his head, he thrust deep. At her cry, he panicked, but the expression on her face wasn’t pain. It was bliss. She was so ready, so eager, and he was so damned lucky.
He pulled nearly free of her body and slid back in, keeping an eye on her, gauging her reactions in case he hurt or frightened her, but she was gloriously free of inhibition, fear, or discomfort.
“More,” she begged. “Don’t hold back. I want it all.”
It was the same strength of character she’d exhibited in the Inner Sanctum, the drive to get what she wanted at all costs, and this time, he was going to give it to her.
Dropping to his elbows, he kissed her as he pumped between her legs, his thrusts growing faster and harder as his climax began to tingle at the base of his spine. The wet slap of their bodies grew more furious as she clung to him, wrapping her legs around his waist with more strength than he’d imagined she had in her entire body.
She met him thrust for thrust, both with her hips and her tongue. He heard the bed banging against the wall and sliding across the floor with the fury of their joining, and shit, he was close, so close that when she came, all he could do was hold on for the ride.
Her sex rippled along his shaft, wringing the climax from him in long bursts that bordered on agony. Sweet, sweet agony. He couldn’t think, couldn’t see as he came once, then twice, the second sending his entire body into spasms of ecstasy. He filled her, but she filled him, too, with emotion he’d never known.
And as he collapsed on top of her, his skin coated in sweat, his lungs struggling to pull in enough air, he wondered if he should tell her how he felt about her. Would she believe he was capable of love? He hadn’t thought so, but what else could explain his inability to stop thinking about her? What else could explain his willingness to disobey Azagoth? Would it be fair to tell her he’d fallen hard for her?
They had, after all, only known each other for a short time. Worse, Azagoth might kill him.
And then, as if just thinking about the male was a curse, the door slammed open. The Grim Reaper burst inside, the whites of his eyes swallowed by inky black, swirly pools. Massive, leathery wings brushed the ceiling, but it was the set of ebony horns sprouting from his forehead and curling over the top of his skull, that filled Hades with dread. Azagoth only took out his horns when he was pissed.
Yep, Hades was dead. And this time, he had a feeling the “mostly” part wouldn’t apply.
Chapter Nineteen
This was a nightmare.
Terror winged its way through Cat as Azagoth strode into her little apartment, black horns jutting from the top of his skull. Lilliana had once said that when the horns came out, so did his temper.
Which was bad, considering that he did most of his killing while being perfectly calm. She didn’t even want to try to imagine what he’d do while seriously pissed off.
She and Hades leaped off the bed, and while she scrambled for a robe, he very coolly pulled on his pants. Azagoth had the decency to avoid looking at her, but his eyes burned holes through Hades. Who, for his part, showed no emotion at all, although he did keep himself between her and Azagoth. It was sweet of him to want to protect her, but she had a feeling he was in far more danger than she was.
“Azagoth.” Hades held his hands up in a placatory gesture, but Azagoth kept moving toward them in a slow, predatory gait. “This isn’t––”
“Isn’t what it looks like?” Azagoth’s words, sounding as if they’d been dredged in smoke, were a dare, and Cat hoped Hades didn’t take it.
“No,” Hades said, standing his ground and looking completely unruffled. “It’s exactly what it looks like. But it isn’t Cat’s fault. I came to her.”
Tugging her robe closed, Cat stepped next to Hades. “Please, Azagoth,” she begged, and she’d go to her knees if she had to, “don’t punish him. He saved my life.”
Azagoth halted a few feet away, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. Claws at the tips of his fingers shredded his flesh, and blood began to drip from his hands. “And you felt grateful enough to sleep with him?”
“Of course not. This started before he saved me.” Cat immediately realized her mistake when Hades groaned and Azagoth growled. Quickly, she added, “It was all my fault. He kept telling me he couldn’t, and I kept...seducing him.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“It’s the truth,” she said, “so, yes.”