“It’s not my own,” he replied, a tormented look in his eyes.
Nero had seen a lot of horror in our world, but this experience had been so horrific, it had rocked his composure. I didn’t know what else to say to him. Words could not express my sorrow for what he’d been through—or my relief at seeing him again.
“I was so worried I’d lost you,” I whispered.
He reached out, his hand softly caressing my cheek.
That did it. I collided with Nero, our bodies crashing together as I kissed him. Into that kiss, I poured my anguish, my relief, my love—everything that had been bottled up since I’d learned what had happened in Memphis.
He kissed me back, and everything else faded away. It was just Nero. At this moment in time, nothing else in the world mattered.
22
Love and War
When that whirlwind of a kiss stopped, we were standing in a bedroom. Draped in silk and satin, it was a room worthy of an emperor—or an angel. The suite’s highlight was the canopy bed, a triumph of carpentry large enough to comfortably fit four people. Its four wooden posts were as thick as tree trunks and embellished with etchings of scantily-clad angels. Luxurious gold curtains were drawn up over the sides. A footstool with matching gold fabric sat under the windows.
“You shouldn’t be thinking about the furniture, Pandora,” Nero chided me softly.
He zipped down the front of his torn leather vest, revealing smooth, soft skin over a hard, sculptured chest. He peeled the torn garment off of his body and tossed it to the floor. Diffused light filtered inside through the gauzy curtains that rippled across the windows, basking his skin in a soft glow.
I just stood there, mesmerized by his stunning perfection.
Nero lifted his hand to me, his fingertips a soft whisper as he traced the sensitive spot on my neck. He circled tightly around me, his caress dipping between my shoulder blades to follow the curvature of my spine. His fingers closed on the clasp of my sport top and paused. A soft gasp broke my lips as the bundle of fabric fell to my feet.
He faced me, his gaze drinking me in from tip to tip. His green eyes lit up with gold and silver sparks, devouring me with the ferocity of a starving man. “Gorgeous.” The word kissed his lips like a lover’s caress.
The room smelled of vanilla and orange blossoms. The curtains around the bed were rippling in the wind, though the window was closed. It was like magic.
“It is magic,” Nero told me.
The magic breeze kissed my skin. It whispered down my arms, cresting my breasts.
“What are you doing to me?” I gasped, his magic touch igniting the fire in my blood.
“Magic is very versatile. It can be used to make war…”
Warmth poured down my bare back like a river of fire, sparking a symphony of sensations.
“…or to make love.” His voice dipped lower.
He besieged my body with elemental magic, and I didn’t even try to fight it. I spread open the gates of my magic, inviting him in.
“Next time, you go off risking your life…you’re taking me with you,” I said, my breaths short and stuttered.
“You can come with me whenever you like.”
Heat trickled over my hips, down my thighs, kissing my curves. A desperate ache was building between my legs. I bit my lip, holding back a moan.
“Don’t ever hold back anything from me,” Nero said, his voice rough with lust.
I met his gaze and saw my own desire reflected in the embers of his eyes. An intense, relentless desperation took hold of me. I grabbed him, my fingernails digging deep into his back.
A ruthless, sensual growl rumbled deep in his throat, a promise of dark and sinful fantasies. His hands locking around my hips, he tugged me roughly against him, and my breasts slammed against the hard wall of his chest.
He met my eyes for a moment, and he declared seriously, “I love you.” Then his mouth closed over mine, ravaging the inside with such savage, insatiable need that it left me breathless.
His mouth dipped to my neck, teasing my throbbing vein between his incisors. Every flick of his tongue, every nibble of his teeth, fueled my desire, feeding me and making me hungrier all at once.
I heard the sharp, satisfying pop of his fangs breaking the surface, the burst of pain trailed immediately by a deep, aching desire. My lips found his neck. Too impatient to tease, my fangs penetrated his skin. His blood spilled into my mouth. Hot, spicy, smooth, and as sweet as honey, it slid down my throat, setting my tastebuds on fire. He tasted like Nectar, the food of the gods, a little drop of heaven.
We drank deeply from each other, our hunger fueled by our passion and fear, by our relief at seeing each other again. I gave all of myself and took all of him in return. His blood burned through my body like a wildfire, consuming me. Ripping apart and rebuilding, burning down and building up—every draw of his mouth sent a shock wave of pleasure crashing and cascading through me.
A soft, desperate moan parted my lips. “Nero.”
He tugged the shorts off my hips and my panties along with them.
“If I’d known magic could be this much fun, I’d have trained mine even harder,” I said.
He chuckled. “I’ll remind you of your words the next time we train together.”
“I don’t think that would be appro—”
His magic crashed over me, drowning me in aching bliss. Desperate for more, I slid my siren magic over him, projecting my desire onto him. Making what was mine—everything I felt—his.
He froze.
I paused, cautiously meeting his eyes. Had I broken some unspoken angel rule?
“Are you all right?”
“No one has ever dared project their magic onto me.”
I held my breath.
“You should dare more often.” He grabbed me by the hips and threw me down onto the bed.
I looked up at him and saw he was now as naked as I was. His huge, hard body loomed over me, those gorgeous wings spread wide, a stunning canvas of black, green, and blue. The sight of them made me feel so small.
He grabbed me roughly, flipping me over. As my hands and knees hit the mattress, his hand traced my inner thighs, spreading them. A single finger dipped inside of me, tracing, teasing. Heat surged between my legs, consuming me in a whirlwind of fierce sexual longing. A second finger slipped in. A third. Oh gods, more. I arched my back and tilted my hips back, opening myself up to him. His hand stroked harder, faster, drowning me in hot, slick pleasure.
Then, suddenly, he pulled away. I growled out a complaint. A gasped moan swallowed my protest as he thrust hard into me.
“Show me what’s inside of you, Leda,” he said, his breath burning against my neck. “Share everything you feel.”
I cried out as he took me harder, completing me body and soul. Pleasure pooled between my legs, blossoming, swelling. I shook, tense, balanced on the precipice of release.
“Please,” I moaned. “Oh, gods, Nero, please.”
His restraint shattered, unleashing the untamed primal force that lurked beneath the angel armor. I ground myself against him, meeting his rough strokes with desperate fervor. My legs were quivering, a blind searing heat pulsing through me, building and twisting back on itself. I dug my fingers into the sheets, shuddering as my body contracted, exploding in a wave of pure ecstasy.
“Oh, I missed you so much,” I sobbed out, the aftershocks rocking me.