S

o this is what it looks like up close. The Cruor lay on top of the bar in the basement, casually tossed there like an afterthought. Amaya had no idea who brought it here. No idea who to thank for its presence and curse for their lack of precaution.

She was dumbstruck the first time she saw it on the roof in Vegas, not so much now. Its stunning presentation hadn’t diminished. She guessed shedding blood over the object put things in perspective. Plus, the empty bottles of scotch, whiskey, and vodka lined up like dead soldiers next to the portal to Hell didn’t lend reverence.

Had the binge happened before Siberia? Or after? Not that it mattered. They’d won the day and deserved a toast. Would’ve been nice if they’d waited for her to join in.

That wasn’t fair either. According to her phone, three days had passed since Braile had saved them. She’d spent thirty-six hours unconscious. And woke alone. The entire house was empty. Strange since it was one in the afternoon on a sunny day. Then she remembered the light blasting them and smiled. An image of all the UnHallowed at a Tigers Game, eating hotdogs and drinking flat beer, traipsed through her mind. They’d sit in the upper deck, nosebleed seats where those with wings could stretch them.

Her shoulders flexed and she had a moment of phantom limb syndrome. She’d stared at her unmarred back in the bathroom mirror. There wasn’t a single trace she’d had two additional appendages sprouting from her shoulder blades. She never appreciated the wings. They were cumbersome, and had a mind of their own. Given time, she would’ve, but it wasn’t to be.

Then she’d noticed her eyes. They were a lovely jade color that she had never really noticed due to the gold thunderbolt dissecting the pupils, and then the rim of gold after her burial mound transformation. Now, that sign of divinity was gone, leaving ordinary human eyes behind.

A strange hollowness gutted her as she stood feet away from the Cruor. Though she did feel heavier, weighted by cement shoes, when it should’ve been the opposite. To be honest, she felt as if she’d lost Braile all over again: First, when he left her in Michael’s care. Second, when she discovered his death. Third, when she woke an hour ago, more alone than she’d ever been.

Would’ve been nice to have a feather in remembrance. I shouldn’t complain when I still have the sword. The empyreal sword was the first thing she spotted when she woke. It occupied a corner of her bedroom, seeming to claim the spot for its own. It was better than nothing. She reached for it, and no longer worthy of the privilege, stopped short of touching the weapon.

She walked behind the bar and found enough Bacardi to fill a tumbler. She sipped her drink and ran her hand over the surface of the Cruor. No hesitation. She’d fought and bled and saved the world. The right to touch it belonged to her as much as it did anyone else. Room temperature, which meant it was cool beneath her palm. The metal around the interior, slightly irregular, the symbols carved deep. The interior was warmer and vibrated ever so slightly. It was alive—dormant—but alive.

“I’m hanging you on my bedroom wall where I can keep an eye on you.” Once she found a hammer and some nails. It might be against the Archangel manners handbook to turn this into a decoration, but she didn’t give a shit, since none of them could be bothered to help them during the battle against Taige. It was her victory trophy. She’d damn well earned it.

She moved back upstairs, to the main floor, her gaze studiously avoiding the shadowed corners of the house. She hadn’t thought of Bane since she woke. Took a lot of effort, but actions speak louder than words. If he wanted to be here, he would’ve. Her heart ached. Why did the men she loved always leave? Did she have some secret repellant fused to her DNA?

She blinked away the tears. Crying over a man was the last damn straw. She scrubbed her eyes yet one damn drop squeezed past her knuckle. Shit!

Guess Bane’s love went the way of her wings, she thought, moving through the living room.

“What the?” The sight of water peeking through a crack in the heavy curtains in the living room pulled her up short. She yanked back the blinds and opened glass doors that weren’t there three days ago. She stepped onto a patio with a pool that also wasn’t there three days ago. And if that weren’t enough, Bane rising out of the water like Aquaman topped the cake.

Water ran down the ridges and grooves of his chest and abdomen highlighting every muscle on his body. And then she got to his cock.

Ohh.

It was not the first time she’d seen him naked, but this was certainly the most memorable. She licked her lips and absorbed his magnificence.

He came up to her and pulled her into an embrace that should’ve been smothering, instead, she held on as if he was the lifeline on a sinking ship. She chose this moment to realize, she was that sinking ship.

Her sob couldn’t be denied and neither the hiccup that followed, or the tears. He picked her up and took her to the water. He sat low on the middle step with her on his lap and the water up to her waist, lapping against them.

He didn’t say anything as she made a fool of herself and cried on his shoulder. “I thought you’d left.”

He peeled off her top.

“I woke and you weren’t there.”

He unsnapped her bra.

“You weren’t anywhere, so I thought you’d left me.”

He tipped her chin up. “Never.” His lips were gentle upon hers, yet laid a claim she couldn’t deny.

Her arms twined around his neck, yet he pulled away. “Do you like your surprise?”

She angled her head and studied the pool, and the wrap around deck with an outdoor kitchen. He’d recreated one of the pages she’d dog-eared in Home and Garden, down to the curtain draped pergola lounge area with the fire pit and lighted walkways, lined with perennials.

“I love it.”

“Good.” He lifted her off his lap, give both her nipples a quick suck that left her achy for more, then stripped her soggy sweatpants and panties from her body. Before she could react, Bane had her tossed over his shoulder as he took them into the middle of the pool. Carefully, he eased her into the water. “Can you swim?” he asked while he helped her float on her back.

“No pools in the inner city to learn. Plus, it was never my thing. I dog-eared that page in H and G because it was pretty. I never thought to actually have a pool.”

“Your wings are gone. But diving is as close as you’ll be to a similar sensation of being weightless and free.”

She found her footing and stood in the five feet of water. “That’s why you did this? So I could fly again?”

“Of course. I’d do anything for you. Only you. You are the only one I want. Will ever want. Just. You.”

She had to tell him, couldn’t contain it any longer. “That’s why I love you. I don’t care that you’re an UnHallowed. I don’t care that you’re a demon. From the first moment I met you, you’ve always had my back. Even when you left me, I hated it, but I knew why and I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same if placed in your position.”

A smirk tweaked his sensual lips and he leaned in for another kiss.

Amaya held him at bay and waved a finger in his face. “But no more leaving me behind. I walk by your side or not at all. Agree?” She held out her hand.

He wrapped his calloused fingers around hers and drew her in for a kiss that split her heart wide open. No lust, just passion layered with unconditional love. Amaya drank it in, absorbed all of it and wanted more, needed more of Bane. For the first time, the hunger she’d carried since her birth had an outlet. The hunger to belong, truly belong to a person, to know that person was their home with all that the word entailed, implied to be true.

For the first time, she didn’t hide what he did to her, or what she wanted from him. She wrapped herself around him, held on as tightly as she could, and let him feel the depth of her love.

His hand glided down her back, leaving goosebumps in its wake, to join his other hand palming her ass. He gripped her curves in his strong hands and had her riding his shaft.

He growled, low and long, and tunneled his fingers through her hair, his fingertips sinking to her scalp, angling her head, taking the kiss deeper. He dominated her mouth with each stroke of his tongue.

She bit his tongue. He nipped her bottom lip.

“Now. I want you now.” She arched her back. The movement thrust her nipples up and he sucked one into his mouth. Each pull of his mouth, each rock of his cock along her clit pushed her closer to the edge. The orgasm crashed upon her in successive waves, each larger than the last until she hung limp in his arms.

Lips pressed to her temple, his murmured words were lost in the post orgasmic haze. Next thing, her ass was on the edge of the pool and Bane was between her legs with her thighs on his shoulders.

His tongue parted her folds and pressed against her entrance, circled her opening with lazy flicks. Her nails scored his biceps until he lapped her pussy with long, slow licks. She gripped his hair and squeezed her thighs around his head.

“Stop teasing me,” she panted.

He nipped her inner thighs, adding a sharper edge to the pleasure, then kissed the tender flesh. Her core blossomed for him. “I won’t be rushed.” He sucked on her clit, robbing her of speech. Now, he went at her sex, like a man enjoying his last meal, with reverence, savoring each lick, suck, plunge of his finger into her drenched depths. She could tell by his tight grip spreading her wide, his groans as he slurped her juices, and his throaty chuckles as she lost her mind.

* * *

B

ane carried her pliant body to her bedroom. He wanted her on all fours, and that’s exactly what he got; Amaya with her ass in the air, her post orgasmic pussy wet and open for his cock. She was more than ready for him with all that trembling pink flesh, begging to be fucked. She looked back at him, her eyes glazed from her second orgasm, until her gaze dipped to his cock and she licked her lips. She wanted a taste and didn’t that make him harder, nearly derailing his intention to go balls deep inside of her heat. Definitely later she could use him as her personal lollipop. Right now, she was his living wet dream.

Only his.

Something primal rose up within his chest. He needed to claim her, mark her in some indelible way as she’d marked him from the moment he set eyes on her. Not ownership, but a bond they both recognized, accepted. They belonged to each other, completely. Absolutely. Crazy. He wasn’t an animal, yet that’s exactly how she made him feel. Wild. Feral. Free.

“Bane,” she whined and reached between her legs to play with herself.

Hell. He drank in the sight and fisted his throbbing cock. No more thinking!

He rubbed himself against her slickness, coating the tip with her juices. Her fingers twined the sheets as she arched her back and rocked. Inch, by blissful inch, she took him inside her sweet body. His eyes slid closed from the pleasure of watching his length vanish. He gripped her hips, thrust deep, and found home. This is where he belonged, lost in her tightness, loving, fighting, whatever the cards dealt for however long they had.

His balls tightened and he had to fight not to explode. Slow, that’s what he planned. He wanted this session to be a languid exploration of each other’s bodies, wanted to draw out the passion until they were both mindless. Well, he was mindless now.

His hips pistoned, bringing him deeper into her heat. She cried out, said something that got lost in the sheets, and rocked back on each down stroke. Her pussy was a vice around his cock. He drove into her, their skins slapping, their groans harsh. He reached around to strum her clit.

Amaya hissed, “Yes!” and stretched her arms above her head and buried her face in the mattress, her body at his mercy.

He leaned over and licked between her shoulder blades, then wrapped the length of her hair around his hand and pulled back. “I want to hear it when you come.”

“Bane!” Back bowed, mouth open on a breathy cry, she convulsed around his cock, her walls clenching, sucking at him, demanding he follow her off the cliff and plunge into bliss.

He pulled out, flipped her over, and thrust inside her heat again. Her entire body vibrated. It was the most exquisite feeling, having your woman vibrating around your cock and knowing you were the one to take her there.

He stretched one of her legs up, going deeper, pounding harder. The scent of the sex, the sounds of their bodies coming together, pushed him closer to the precipice. He loomed over her, the most beautiful being he’d ever seen, with her muscles straining and her cheeks flushed from the passion arching between them.

Needing his mouth on her body, he reached for her, and brought himself to her breast. He pulled her nipple into his mouth, rolling the tip around his tongue, scrapping the tight bud with his teeth. Fingers in his hair, she pressed him closer and worked her hips. Hell, he couldn’t take much more, not with the blistering passion scorching him. His balls begged for release.

She cupped his face, snaked her tongue into his mouth, mimicked what his cock was doing to her pussy, and whispered, “Come with me, baby,” as another ripple of her walls squeezed him, and her eyes rolled back.

That’s exactly what he did. His seed shot out of his cock into her tight passage with a violence he’d never experienced. It went on and on, draining his every thought, stealing his strength, and most of his sanity.

“Amaya,” he cried out, her name a benediction.

Exhausted, he flopped to the side of her. She threw an arm over his chest and snuggled next to him. He drifted off knowing he’d found his heaven and he would never—ever—let it go.