Angel’s Blood (Guild Hunter #1)(62)
Author: Nalini Singh

Her gaze caressed the lines of his chest, his abdomen, skated down. She sucked in a breath, forced her eyes back up. "Come here."

He raised an eyebrow, but then, to her absolute astonishment, obeyed the order. As he entered the bath, she found herself gauging the powerful muscle of his thighs-what would it be like to have all that strength around her as he buried himself inside her? Her stomach clenched. Never had she craved a man with such hunger, never had she been more aware of her own femininity. Raphael could snap her like a twig. And for a woman who had been hunter-born, that wasn’t a threat . . . but the darkest of temptations.

Her hand fisted under the water as she remembered how he’d made her cut herself. She hadn’t forgotten, had no romantic fantasies that he’d change, become more human. No, Raphael was the Archangel of New York and she had to be ready to take that man to her bed. The water lapped at her br**sts as he settled on the opposite side, his wings folded to his back, his hair beginning to curl from the steam.

"Why the delay?" she asked, having seen the blatant evidence of his arousal.

"When you’ve lived as long as I have," he said, eyes heavy-lidded but definitely on her, "you learn to appreciate new sensations. They are rare in an immortal’s life."

She found she’d moved toward him. He hooked an arm around her waist, pulling her closer until she straddled him as he sat on a ledge below the waterline, her legs wrapped around his waist.

He settled her firmly against him.

Sucking in a breath, she said, "Sex isn’t new to you," and rocked her heat over the exquisite hardness of him. Good didn’t begin to describe how it felt. How he felt.

"No. But you are."

"Never had a hunter before?" She grinned, nibbling on his lower lip.

But he didn’t smile. "I’ve never had Elena before." The words were husky, his eyes so intent she felt owned.

Draping her arms around his neck, she leaned back so she could look into his face. "And I’ve never had Raphael."

At that moment, it felt as if something changed in the air, in her soul.

Then Raphael’s hands spread on her lower back and the feeling dissipated. Nothing, she thought, it had been nothing but an overactive imagination. She was tired, frustrated, so damn greedy for this immortal who’d made no secret of the fact that, lust or not, he might yet kill her.

"The rules," Raphael said, catching her gaze, holding it.

She pressed closer, continuing to rub her heat along his aroused length. Today, she needed the pleasure Raphael could provide. And if there was a little sensual cruelty mixed in with the pleasure, so be it. "Yeah?"

He stilled her movements with those powerful hands of his. "Until this ends, I’ll be your only lover."

Her muscles tightened at the absolute possession in that statement. "Until what ends?"

"This hunger."

The problem was, she was afraid this fury would never end, that she’d go to her grave craving the Archangel of New York. "Only if you meet a condition of mine."

He didn’t like that, his bones sharp against skin gone taut. "Tell me."

"No vamp, human, or angel honeys for you either." She dug her nails into his shoulders. "I won’t share you." She might be a toy, but she was a toy with claws.

His expression thawed, those cobalt eyes holding a distinct gleam of satisfaction. "Deal."

She’d expected to have to fight him. "I mean it. Not one lover. I’ll cut off the hands they used to touch you, dump their bodies where no one will ever find them."

He seemed amused by her gruesome threat. "And me? What would you do to me? Shoot me again?"

"I’m not feeling guilty for that." But she did. Just an eensy bit. "Does it hurt?"

He laughed, and the open pleasure in it was a caress. "Ah, Elena, you are a contradiction. No, it doesn’t hurt. It’s healed."

She wanted to be a tough-ass, but that smile of his was doing things to her, melting her from the inside out. "So, what turns on an archangel?"

"A na**d hunter is a good start." He pulled her harder against his cock, holding her in place when she would’ve wiggled. "My wings," he told her, kissing her neck, finding that sensitive little spot just above her collarbone.

It made her soften, return the favor. "Wings?" She nipped at the tendons of his neck, feeling languorous heat crawl up her body-she’d thought she wanted a short, hard f**k to screw up her brains enough that she could come down from the adrenaline buzz, but now that she was in his arms, a slow descent into sensual oblivion sounded far better.

When he didn’t answer, she decided to do some exploring of her own. Moving one hand, she stroked firmly along the top edge of his right wing. He went tense against her, the waiting kind of tense, the kind that told her she’d either done something very good or something very bad. Since he was still pulsing hot and hard under her, she decided to go for good and repeated the act. This time, he shuddered.

"They’re sexually sensitive?" Eyes narrowed, she thrust a hand into his hair and tugged him up from her neck. "The Bitch Queen was brushing her wings against yours."

He let her hold him, though they both knew he could’ve broken free in a second. "Only in certain situations." One long finger traced circles around her ni**les.

She slapped at his hand. "I’m not buying."

He moved his finger to the dip of her elbow, making her shiver. "Is this sensitive in normal situations?"

"Hmph." But she let go of his hair, let him kiss her properly.

When they came up for air, he said, "They’re sensitive, yes. But sexual only in a sexual context-which seems to be always with you."

"Guess a thousand years plus teaches a lot about charm," she said against his lips. Perfect lips. Lips she could nibble on for hours. "You’ve got all sorts of slick going on."

"For a warrior perhaps."

She was too interested in kissing him to answer right away, her entire body focused on his, her skin so sensitive she thought she might explode. "In the bath?"

He shook his head. "I want to see you in my bed."

"Another fallen hunter," she murmured. "Where’s the soap?"

He reached along the rim and picked up a near-transparent bar. As he lathered up his hands and began to stroke them over her shoulders, a clean bright scent that echoed his own-water, wind, forest-rose up around her. "Do many fall?" he asked, running his hands down to soap the exposed parts of her br**sts.

It made her lower body tighten another notch. "Vampires are sexy," she teased. "Angels are usually too snooty to bother with humans. I figured you lot were too evolved to enjoy getting down and dirty."