He lifted an arm and pressed his palm against the wall to the right of my head, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “In order to do this, I’ve had to train myself not to feel the same human emotions that you deal with on a daily basis—greed, gluttony, wrath, sloth, pride, envy, and lust.”
When he said lust, the other arm rose to parallel the first on the left side of my head, effectively trapping me. I couldn’t look away from the intensity in his eyes. Words died in my throat—words that should have gotten me out of this dangerous situation. Distantly, I realized Michael wasn’t using his influence on me. This was the sheer power of his presence.
“So when you ask me if I’m jealous, you already know the answer because part of me is human. What you should be asking me is why I’m jealous, considering I have no right to be. Terrell is a good man. He could give you a comfortable life, keep you safe, and treat you well. I should want that for you. I should be willing to step back and let you live your own life. I should remember my place as an archangel under God’s direct orders. Why do you think I can’t do that, Jordan?”
I swallowed, imploring my lungs to fill with air enough to answer the question, though for the life of me I couldn’t keep from stammering. “I-I don’t know.”
His face drifted close enough that I could smell the faint scent of his shampoo and the sweet spice of his aftershave, close enough that I could feel the warm air from each breath across my neck, close enough that goosebumps rolled over my arms from the thrill of being so near a handsome, nearly naked male body.
“I think you do know. You know exactly what I’m thinking right now, because you’re thinking the same thing, even if you don’t want to admit it to yourself.”
I closed my eyes in an attempt to regain composure. “We should…probably patch me up. Don’t want to die from blood loss.”
“You’re right. Hold still.” Confused, I opened my eyes again to see him leaning towards the claw mark the beast had left on my collarbone, seeming as if he were going to kiss it. I pressed my palms against his chest to stop him, regretting it as my fingers came in contact with his firm skin.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s faster if I use my healing energy.”
“Y-Yeah, but when Raphael did it he used his hands,” I insisted.
He smiled that secretive smile again. “True, but you made me angry. Consider this your punishment.”
Before I could say anything else, he lowered his mouth to my collarbone and kissed the torn skin. I hissed, flinching as it stung, but then something else happened. The cut tingled as if he’d poured rubbing alcohol over it, grew cold, and the skin re-knit itself as if it had never been damaged. No more blood, no more pain, no more mess. I hadn’t been awake to experience this kind of rapid healing the first time. During our sessions, Raphael had merely run his hands over the wounds and they gradually closed up. Michael’s method was nothing like his, probably for good reason.
There were three areas of scratches left on my body: the ones on my neck, the ones of my upper stomach, and the ones on my inner right forearm. My heart thudded inside my chest like an animal trying to escape its cage, but I had been trapped. Michael lifted my arm in one hand and trailed his lips across the delicate skin, sending goosebumps all the way to my fingertips. I could feel tremors going up my spine from the sensations and from the knowledge that he was doing something so intimate on purpose—dragging my very human desires out from depths of where I’d locked them in my mind. Damn him.
Now that the wounds on my arm had disappeared, he reached for the knot at the base of my neck that held up the dress. I panicked, afraid of what would happen if I let him. I caught his wrist, whispering his name. He held me with his heated gaze, his tone low and soft.
“Who don’t you trust? Me or you?”
My lips barely moved. “Both.”
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
I shook my head. “That’s not what I’m afraid of.”
“What are you afraid of?”
I swallowed hard. “Not being able to stop.”
A look went through his eyes that made my breath catch. “Let me worry about that.”
He tugged the knot loose. I didn’t stop him. The front of the black dress crumpled until the front lay a few inches above my waist, exposing my upper body clothed only by a black strapless bra. Michael’s gaze could have burned a hole through solid steel and it was aimed at me. God help us both.