Archangel's Kiss

A fragment of thought before his hands closed over her breasts from behind, his teeth sinking into the sensitive flesh of her neck. The scream of pleasure was torn out of her, a short, sharp burst. The hands curved so possessively around her breasts squeezed, sending another bolt of lightning straight through to the heat between her thighs, her body slick with welcome, withneed .



Releasing the grip he had on her neck, Raphael sucked on the mark he'd made, his body a furnace that burned her from the inside out. When she twisted, trying to turn, he slipped one hand down to her abdomen, holding her in place with effortless strength, his other hand continuing to torment the sensitive flesh of her breasts, her nipples almost painfully aroused.



"Your mouth," she whispered, her voice husky. "I need your mouth."



Not yet.



She shivered at the implacability of that comment, the dark sexual tone of it. Raphael was not only out of control, he wasn't going to allow her any either. She could have fought, but she'd hungered for him since the instant she woke from the coma. The archangel could have her any and every way he wanted.



Raising her arms, she went to twist them behind her and around his neck, but he was already nudging her forward, onto the bed. She flowed with the movement, ending up on her knees on the sheets. Raphael pressed his hand to her lower back. Understanding the silent message, she went down onto her hands, too.



It was a starkly submissive position. However, she was feeling anything but submissive.



Using one hand to shift her hair to the side, she glanced back over her shoulder, wanting to tease him in the way a woman could tease a man in bed. "Oh God."



The archangel was glowing. A visceral terror in her gut, born of eons-old instinct.



I can feel your fear, Elena.



Blowing out a breath, she sucked in another, the action shaky. "It'll add spice to the proceedings."



A slow blink, his eyes lingering over the sweep of her back as he unfolded his wings with a careless grace that left her mouth watering. Then, eyes hooded, he stroked one hand down the curve of her bottom.Spread your thighs.



She resisted.



A glance of savage, wild blue.



Smiling just enough to let him know she was teasing, she widened her stance the merest fraction. He responded by running a single finger across the seam of her pants, stroking right over the hottest, most hungry part of her.



"Raphael!"



You wanted to play.



Still as dark, still as full of sexual intent . . . but holding an undertone of sensual amusement. Shuddering under the intimacy of the caress, she blew out a breath. "Yeah, I did." She went to flip over onto her back, but he read the tension in her muscles faster than she could move, holding her in place with a single hand on her hip.



"No fair," she murmured, dropping her head. "I'm not as strong."



Who said anything about playing fair?



She laughed, feeling as if her skin was stretching to accommodate the sexual energy within. "Are you planning to take off my pants anytime soon? I'm burning up."



Another lushly intimate caress. "I can feel your dampness through your clothing." His voice dropped, became impossibly more sensual as his fingers pushed upward. "I'll lick you here."



The stark statement of intent had fire burning across her cheeks.



"A blush?" A tug at the back of her pants, and suddenly, the material was gone, her skin bared to his gaze. "A blush all over." He traced the scalloped edges of her panties high on her thighs. "Pink," he murmured, "with blue ribbon. Your favorite pair."



Her blush felt like it would eat up her whole body. "I didn't realize you paid so much attention to my clothing."



"Certain pieces hold my interest." That sensual amusement was back, his finger tracing the ribbon across her buttock and along her hip. "Such heat under your skin. Surely you're not shy now?"



She couldn't speak, too focused on the mouthwateringly masculine strength of his body, on the way he was touching her, as if he had all the time in the world, as if there was no impatience in him. "Raphael."



"I like the sound of my name on your lips." His hand closed about her thigh as he widened her stance even more. This time, she didn't resist, even in play, wanting to entice him to go faster. When he cupped her, it was all she could do to suck in a few gasping breaths. The sheets blurred in front of her eyes as he shaped the fabric of her panties to her, parting her through the soaked material as if it didn't exist. "Hurry." It was a whisper.



But he heard.No.



Her flesh dampened even more for him, a rush of liquid flowing to the juncture of her thighs. She went to squeeze them instinctively tight, but he stopped her with one knee on the bed, his leg pushing against her thigh. She felt the bed dip as he shifted fully onto it, mirroring her position - except he kept that thigh between hers, his left hand palm down beside hers, while his right reached beneath to mold her breasts, her wings caught in between.



She expected it to hurt, but her wings fell into graceful lines, as if the knowledge of carnal pleasure was imprinted on her very muscles. And the sensation . . . Every feather, every fine filament was attuned to the powerful male heat of his body. "It's too much,"



she said, trying to pull away.



He held her in place. "You'll get used to it."



Frustrated, needy, she rubbed against the ridge of his arousal.Behave, hunter. Raphael pinched her nipple just enough to spark a wildfire inside of her.



Crying out, she bucked against him. When that didn't work, she followed instinct and dropped to her front, twisting over and onto her back before he could stop her. Legs tangled awkwardly with his, she looked up at an immortal who had a very human possessiveness burning in his gaze. "Enough," she whispered.



He shifted so that she could free her legs, but shook his head. "No."



Chapter 24



He spread his wings above her, his entire frame burning white-hot. It dazzled, overwhelming her senses. But she couldn't, wouldn't, close her eyes, fascinated by the unearthly beauty of him. Dangerous, he was so very dangerous. But he was hers. Raising her hands, she pressed them against his chest.



An unadulterated adrenaline rush.



His eyes met hers, the whites eclipsed by blue. She should have been afraid, but she was in too much need to feel anything close to fear. "Raphael." It was a plea and a demand in one, her body moving in sinuous welcome.



Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers at last, kissing her with a slow, almost primal intensity that had her stroking her hands up to his shoulders, trying to pull him down. But he continued to hold himself above her, closing his teeth over her lip when she insisted.



The contained power behind that steely frame was magnificent, a storm she could taste in the intensity of his kiss. Need twisted inside her, a clawing, voracious hunger.



Gripping his shoulders, she threw her leg over his . . . and moved one hand in a slow glide over the arch of his wing.



The power of him blazed so bright, she couldn't keep her eyes open any longer. His lips met hers again a moment later and this time, there was nothing contained about him. The archangel had well and truly let go of the reins. His body came over hers, his erection pressing demandingly into her abdomen.



She twisted, trying to get him between her thighs. But Raphael had other ideas. Tearing his lips from hers, he pinned her down and began to kiss his way down her body. Her heart stilled, then restarted at frenetic speed.



I promised to lick you there.



"No!" She kicked out in an attempt to get away from a pleasure she knew would smash through her, a thousand glittering shards.



Yes. You're strong enough now.



Reaching out, she tried to hold him to her, but his hair slid out of her hands like black water, silky and cool across her flesh. She gripped the sheets, dug her heels into the bed.



But nothing could have prepared her for the way he tasted her through the by-now transparent fabric of her panties, his hands keeping her spread for his delectation. It was agony and ecstasy, liquid lightning contained within a body that seemed suddenly too small, too fragile, for what it was being asked to bear.



As if he knew he'd pushed her too far, Raphael rose to press a kiss to her navel.Hunter mine.



Heart catching at the affection laced with the sexual heat, she reached down to run her fingers across his lips. There was no smile - the force of the emotions between them was too strong, too much to allow for laughter - but he didn't halt her exploration. When his hand moved against her hip, she shivered.



A single tug and the last barrier between his kiss and her most intimate flesh was gone.



Then those lips were on her, firm, determined, unrelenting in their demands.



Mine, you are mine.



Raphael's kiss was as earthy as his words, full of masculine possession and a wild, inexorable hunger. Pleasure filled her body, rose through her veins, suffused her pores as he caressed her on every level, as he pushed her tofeel as she'd never before felt, as he took her over.



The peak was a slow climb, a shattering descent. Color exploded in a wild wave but she didn't break, floating with the tide to come home in Raphael's arms.



Raphael held his hunter as her heart slowed, her skin sheened with a fine layer of perspiration. The primal heart of him, the part that urged him to possess her to the core, purred in silent satisfaction.



She was his, would never be anyone else's.



Stroking his hand down her body, he savored the jagged rise and fall of her chest, the low moans that caught in her throat as she reacted to his touch. When her hand rose to cup his cheek, he rubbed against her palm, his fingers tracing the passion-flushed curve of her mouth.



Heavy-lidded eyes looked up at him, silver with desire sated. "I think you've done me in, Archangel."



"I've only begun, hunter." Rising off her, he swung his legs over the side of the bed.



"It's time for our bath."



Elena groaned. "You're torturing me." Her eyes went to the engorged push of his cock against the tough leather-like material of his pants as he stood, turned to face her. "And yourself."



The sight of her lying so deliciously rumpled in their bed made his body harden impossibly further. "I've learned to savor my pleasures, as I intend to savor you . . . again and again."



Her breasts flushed as a shiver rippled through her. "I love the way you talk in bed."



Throaty words as she pushed herself up into a sitting position, then shifted until she was on her knees near the edge of the bed. "Come here." A sensual demand.



He'd lived well over a millennium, developed iron control over the primal side of his nature, but he could have no more resisted the lush invitation in his hunter's eyes than he could've given up the ability to fly. "What would you do with me, Elena?"



Reaching out, she unsnapped the top button on his pants, her fingers strikingly feminine against the black fabric. "Wicked, wicked things." A single slow stroke along the outline of his cock.



He hissed out a breath, thrust his hands into her hair. But he didn't stop her, this woman who played with him - who trusted him. "Be gentle."



She shot him a startled silver glance. Then a slow, delighted smile. "I won't bite . . .



unlike some people." A fraction more pressure on his aroused flesh as she shaped him with her hand.

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