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Reaper Unleashed



I stared up at him. “You need me?”

Grayson growled low in his throat and Azazel’s gaze flicked over my head. “Do we have a problem?”

I looked back at Grayson to find him standing with his fists clenched and his chest heaving. “Fee’s been through enough.” His voice was a low almost-growl.

Azazel tracked my features with a frown. “Cain found you, didn’t he?”

“How do you know about Cain?”

“Samael told me.”

Grayson made a sound of impatience. “Fee almost died fighting Ulrich for the alpha spot for Rising Pack.”

Azazel’s face paled. “I knew I felt something. Fee…” He sank his hand into my hair and tilted my head up as he looked down at me. “Fuck.”

There was a world of torment and regret in that word, but I wouldn’t allow him to feel guilty for a situation outside of his control. The Loup world was mine, and its trials and tribulations were also mine.

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

His grip eased so that I could focus my attention on Grayson, who looked like he was holding back from tearing me out of Azazel’s arms. This was his alpha nature wanting his mate by his side. It was stronger now that the Tribus was complete, and it was probably a good thing Hunter wasn’t here to add fuel to the spark that begged to morph into an inferno.

It was up to me to defuse this situation.

I kissed Azazel’s lips lightly tasting the bitter tang of the sea on his skin, before bridging the distance between me and my fated mate.

“Babe.” I touched Grayson’s cheek lightly and he blinked before slowly tearing his gaze from Azazel and settling it on me like it was a blanket of protection.

Because that was all this was, a primal instinct to protect me from whatever fate might await me in the Underealm—a place he couldn’t go.

“I’ll be fine. Azazel will take care of me. You know he will. The packs are safe, but the Underealm isn’t. I have to do this.”

He gave a shuddering sigh and the tension in his shoulders melted. “I know. I just… I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t,” Azazel said. “I won’t let that happen.”

“And Cain?” Cora reminded me. “What do you want to do about him?”

Fuck. I’d almost forgotten about the new potential pain in my ass. “Cain will have to wait. Track him for me and ask Uri to send a phoenix if you find him. I’ll come.”

“We got this, babe,” Cora said, placing a hand on Grayson’s shoulder. “You go save Lilith.”

I took Azazel’s hand, revelling in the abrasion of the callouses that spoke of years of wielding a sword.

I was going home.

Chapter Nineteen

There was no way Azazel could make the flight back to the Underealm straight away. He’d need to rest, so we went back to the Dominus quarters. We’d be alone there, and my stomach dipped and flipped with that knowledge and all the potential it held.

It was strange being here without the others, and with the imps on temporary leave, the place was as silent as a tomb.

Azazel closed the doors to the pinnacle behind us then took my hand. “Are you hungry?”

“Not for food.”

His eyes lit up in a smile.

I ducked my head, suddenly shy. “I was about to have a bath when you arrived.”

He looked thoughtful. “I have a large bathtub…”

Oh. ”Yes, please.”

He scooped me off my feet and strode toward his chambers. I clung to him, looking up at his profile. The thick dark lashes, the straight nose, and the dangerous looking scar that crossed his cheek. He was perfection. He was beautiful, and he was mine.

“Like what you see?” Azazel’s voice was a low rumble that vibrated through me.

It was his I’m-going-to-do-deliciously-wicked-things-to-you voice, and I was instantly wet.

I caught my bottom lip between my teeth and gave him the innocent eyes. “Conah could have come to get me.”

His smile was knowing. “Yes, he could have.”

Say it…

“But I wanted to come. I wanted this time with you.”

I hugged him tighter. “You lurve me.”

He chuckled. “I totally do.”

He climbed the steps with me and then we were in his chambers. The smell of turpentine evoked nostalgia and memories of our time here together. He kept going, through the bedroom and into his huge marble-tiled bathroom. Azazel liked his creature comforts, and the bathroom was of epic proportions. There was a shower that could fit three people and a bath that was more of a jacuzzi than a regular tub. I mean, it had steps to get in for god’s sake.

He set me on my feet and began to run the water. The Dominus quarters had excellent water pressure, and it wouldn’t be long before the tub was full. I grabbed the berry-scented bubble bath I’d left here the last time I used this tub and squirted a shit load in. Azazel laughed, and my heart felt too full.

I loved this man so fucking much it hurt. He stroked my cheek. “Can I undress you?” His tone was almost tentative.

Azazel was a take charge lover, an alpha in the bedroom like Grayson, but when this softer side of him peeked out, it melted me, turning me to putty in his hands. When this side of him showed, the payoff was always epic and my body, already thrumming with anticipation, went into hyper mode.

He grazed my jaw with his knuckles and then down the column of my neck and heat surged up to flush my skin sensitizing every inch of me.

“Can I take off your clothes?” he asked again, husky and low.

I nodded mutely.

He set to work, taking his time undressing me, peeling my clothes from my body in a way that sent tingles racing across my skin. His fingers barely grazed me, and I bit back a moan of protest because the less he touched me, the more I wanted him to. Soon I was naked except for my panties. He took a moment to run his gaze over me, slow and filled with heat. He lingered on my breasts, which swelled, nipples straining as if begging for a kiss.

My breathing grew shallow as he hooked his thumb into the waistband of my panties and slid them slowly down my thighs. I was wet and throbbing, wanting him to touch me, but he didn’t take his eyes off my face and didn’t allow his fingers to stray to the hungriest spot on my body.

Fuck, I ached for him. “My turn.”

I gripped the hem of his T-shirt and slowly raised it up, exposing his taut abs and powerful pectorals. He raised his arms, but he was way too tall for me to get the shirt all the way off without help.

Once again, his warm chuckle sent pulses of desire shooting through me. I licked my lips and reached for his pants buckle. I wanted to be all smooth and practiced, but my heart was pounding so fast with anticipation that my fingers fumbled.

“Shit.”

His large hand covered mine. “Allow me.”

He took over, removing the belt easily, unzipping his pants and shucking them off.

Just the boxers now and the prize hidden and straining beneath. I wanted to trace it with my tongue, run my hands along its length and grip its girth.

Mine.

“Let me.” I stepped closer, but not so close that our bodies touched. I lifted my chin and locked gazes with him as I peeled down his boxers. They snagged on his arousal and he sucked in a breath, closing his eyes as if in pain. It took everything I had in me not to touch him there. His heat beat against my bare abdomen, deepening the pulse between my thighs. The desire to touch him was like the need to breathe.

His mouth parted on a sigh, eyes growing hooded because, yes, he wanted me to touch him too, but it was a challenge. If I broke, he’d win. No. I’d wait until he was ready. Until he broke and touched me.

I turned away, aware his gaze was on me, his regard a caress, skimming down my back to linger on my buttocks and then down my thighs. I glanced over my shoulder with a coquettish smile then stepped into the water and sank down, immersing my body in bubbles. I could study him now. Really take him in.

He was epic perfection with a body made for battle, all muscle and power. His skin was taut velvet that my senses recalled eagerly. Silken, magnetic, fragrant.

He was all those things and he stood watching me with ravenous intent. I allowed my gaze to drop deliberately from his face to his broad shoulders, over the valley of defined abs to the v that hung at his tapered waist and south to the prize my body craved.

I crooked a finger, beckoning him, then moved back against the lip of the bath to give him room. He sank into the water and I fisted my hands to stop myself from reaching for him.

He’d set the pace.

He wanted to take it slow.

I’d give him that.

The water caressed my skin like eager fingers, sliding over my breasts and lapping at my nipples.

He lathered up his hands. “Come here.”

I obliged willingly and turned to settle between his powerful thighs. Don’t touch him. Not yet. Oh fuck, I couldn’t go much longer.

His arousal pressed to my back, hard and hot, and his hands were on my shoulders massaging, caressing. I held my breath as they moved down to my collar bones and then further still to skim the tops of my breasts. I bit back a groan.

I needed him to touch me.

My breasts felt full and swollen, nipples painfully erect desperate for his attentions.

“Azazel.” His name was an explosion of need, hanging in the air between us. “Please.”

“Hush,” he said in my ear. “Relax.”

I let my head fall back and closed my eyes, heart pounding against my ribs. Please. He ran his hands back up to my shoulders and a whimper of frustration slipped from my lips.

“How much did you miss me?” he asked, breath warm against the shell of my ear.”

“More than anything.”

“Show me.”

“How?”

“Touch yourself.”

Yes. I slid my hand down my abdomen and between the sensitized folds of my sex to find the epicenter of sensation, swollen and ready for me. I was so fucking turned on right now it wouldn’t take much to tip me over the edge.
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