Angel in Chains (The Fallen #3)(50)
Author: Cynthia Eden

The thunder was so loud it drowned out the squeaks of the old bedsprings. Az kissed his way down Jade’s neck. His teeth scored her flesh.

Her sex gripped him so tightly. Every move sent pleasure spiking through his body. Faster. Harder.

Her ni**les were taut peaks against him. Perfect for his mouth. He tasted her there. Thrust harder.

She met him with her body and held on to him as fiercely as she could. Her right hand grabbed the sheet on the bed. Clenched it as she tossed back her head and squeezed her eyes shut.

More pleasure. More heat.

Temptation.

“Jade.”

Her eyes flew open. Bright. Wild. Lost.

Did his look the same?

Her hand rose. Stroked over his shoulder and onto his upper back. Her caressing fingers traced the outline of his wings.

“So beautiful,” she whispered. “My angel . . .”

Not an angel. Didn’t she see? Couldn’t she feel the darkness?

But her touch was all he needed. Az erupted inside of Jade on a hot, nerve-shattering explosion of release. The pleasure gutted him, ripping through his body and leaving him gasping for breath.

After a time, the thunder quieted and his heartbeat slowed.

Az rose onto his elbows and stared down at Jade. Her breath still panted out, as did his own. He brushed back her hair. “You shouldn’t be with me,” he said, even as his body began to thicken within hers once more. He just couldn’t seem to get enough of her.

But she was already running from one monster. She didn’t need to be in bed with another.

Jade’s gaze seemed tender as she looked up at him. “There’s no one else I want. Only you.”

She didn’t realize how dangerous the words were. Surely, she didn’t. To offer them to a man who’d never had anyone want him before.

“You know all of me now,” she told him, voice husky—sex and sin. “I’m not perfect. I’ve done . . . some pretty terrible things. Things I know I’ll never earn forgiveness for.”

But she wasn’t asking to be forgiven.

She was fighting. Planning to destroy the man who’d taken her own life away.

“You know me,” she whispered as her hands traced down his shoulders and skimmed over the thick scars that remained on his flesh. “So when do I get to know you?”

He’s not the good guy that you think . . .

Fuck Bastion.

Az never wanted her to know the truth about him. He wanted her to keep looking at him like he was a hero. Like he was a protector. A man she could count on. A man she wanted.

Not a monster she feared.

“You know all that matters about me.” He began to thrust again. Slow, easy movements. “The rest is just hell and death. It doesn’t matter.”

He wasn’t the same as he’d been before. Jade made him want to be different.

For her, he would be.

She sighed softly, the sound so sweet and lush that he bent and caught it with his lips. This was need. This was pleasure. This was . . . life.

So very different from a world of death.

Her hands clasped his. He rose up and stared down at her perfect br**sts. Not even a hint of scarring marred her flesh. He’d stopped Death’s touch.

And he’d do it again.

Bastion wouldn’t have her. Az had given up the witch to death. He’d let her go, but Jade—no.

His fingers tightened around hers. Jade wouldn’t die. She wouldn’t slip away.

Not when he’d just found her.

And if he had to fight all of the angels in heaven in order to keep her, then he damn well would.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Sunlight streaked through the old window. Jade lifted her hand to shield her eyes. Dawn had finally come. The light should have made her feel safer.

It didn’t.

Her gaze drifted to the right. Az slept beside her. She started to touch him, but hesitated.

Last night, she’d felt a darkness around him, filling the air.

And his blue eyes had turned black.

Her breath exhaled slowly as she slipped from the bed. She’d talked to him and bared her soul in an effort to pull him back to her. Whatever rage burned inside him, she’d wanted to quench it.

But. . .

But she knew she hadn’t.

The sex had been phenomenal, as she was pretty sure it always would be with him. Yet Az had been different. So intense. Like a fire was chained inside him. One that would erupt at any moment.

She reached for her clothes and dressed with barely a whisper of sound. Even at rest, his body, bare to the waist, appeared so strong and lethal.

Not the good guy.

But she wanted him to be.

Maybe he would have been, if it hadn’t been for her. Because now she had him locked in a death battle with her ex, and from the sound of things, she’d managed to turn his own kind against him.

Am I supposed to be dead?

She couldn’t think of another reason for a Death Angel to be on her trail. And Az couldn’t fight both that Bastion guy and Brandt. Even he wasn’t strong enough to face two powerful Other enemies.

She opened the door. The squeak had her tensing. Crap. But a fast glance over her shoulder showed Jade that Az still slept.

Okay. Good. She could do this. Last night, she’d peered out of the window and seen the gleam of metal near the edge of the woods.

And if I was gonna stash a ride at this place . . .

That sure would have been the spot she picked to hide her vehicle.

Jade rushed outside and headed toward the woods. Goose bumps rose on her flesh. Even in the daylight, this place just felt weird, and she could have sworn she heard the echo of old whispers floating in the air.

Five more steps, and she was at the edge of the woods. She saw the gleaming metal again, and realized someone had tried to use a green tarp to hide this prize. She grabbed that faded tarp and yanked. It flew away to reveal the heavy frame of a motorcycle.

Someone had left a backup plan behind. She started to smile.

A twig snapped behind her. Tensing, she glanced over her shoulder.

No Az. No other vengeful Death Angel coming at her, either. No—

“Going somewhere?” Az’s deep voice demanded.

She jumped and lost her breath. Then she yanked her gaze back around, following the sound of his voice. He was in front of the bike, head cocked, arms folded over his chest.

Her breath came back, only to be expelled in a fast rush. “I just . . . I thought I saw this”—she waved her hand toward the motorcycle—“last night. And while you were sleeping, I figured I’d check it out.” Her gaze held his and refused to drop, even when that too-intense stare searched hers.