Beauty Awakened (Angels of the Dark #2)(37)
Author: Gena Showalter

“Don’t be afraid. Am I strong enough to force myself on you? Yes. Will I? No.” His gaze pierced all the way to her soul. “I’ll never hurt you, Nicola.”

“I know,” she said, and shivered. He was so intense. She flattened her palms on his chest, on the softness of his robe, the hardness of his muscles.

“I told myself I wouldn’t do this while the memory of what happened today is so fresh. But then I got my hands on you.” He leaned down, coming closer and closer, his lips soon a whisper away from hers. “Now I have a desire to replace the bad with the good. It’s a desire I no longer want to resist.”

Can’t quite catch my breath. “I like…the way you think.”

“Then we should start over. Do you find me sexy?”

She gulped, softly admitted, “Yes.”

Just like that, his pupils expanded, black consuming gold. “Very well. My reaction.” He lowered his head and pressed his mouth against hers, the contact soft at first, noninvasive, and yet still her head spun. Then he lifted his head and peered into her eyes. Whatever he saw must have encouraged him because he once again lowered. This time, his tongue flicked out, tasting her, and he moaned. Eager for more, she opened for him.

He swooped in, angling his head, hesitantly rolling his tongue against hers. At the moment of contact, a cascade of heat melted her bones, and she sank into him, her body suddenly smashed against his.

The force of the kiss increased, quickened.

This was… This was…

“Good,” he rasped, and she wasn’t sure whether he was asking a question or commanding her to like it.

“Perfect.” But perfect hardly seemed adequate.

Magnificent. Heady. Exquisite. No, they weren’t good enough, either.

Her tongue met his, thrust for thrust, her fingers sliding through his beard, locking behind his neck, kneading of their own accord.

The horror of the day faded. Mr. Ritter ceased to exist. There was only this moment and Koldo. He’d been right. She’d needed something good to wipe away the bad.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, and there was something in his tone. Something she’d never heard before. Vulnerability, perhaps.

“No. Promise.”

“Not giving you enough?”

“You’re giving me plenty.”

He lifted his head. Lines of tension branched from his eyes and mouth, and a bead of sweat rolled down his temple. “My blood is heating, practically in flames already.”

“Mine, too.”

“You were pleased?”

“Very.” Was he…unsure of his performance? Was that the problem?

Back down he went, not just kissing her but consuming her. His big hands roved over her back, up and down, up and down, then rode the ridges of her spine. As strong as he was, he managed to keep the touches light.

“Koldo, I want… I need…” More.

“Nicola,” Laila called, her voice cutting through the tension.

Koldo jolted, then set her away from him, looked away from her and rolled his shoulders, as if he had wings he wanted to flare.

“I’ll be back,” he said tightly.

Wait. What? No! “Where are you going?”

He ignored her, saying, “I’m commanding you to take the day off tomorrow. To rest.”

“I will. But—”

“No. No buts. There will be no arguments. Remember?”

He was using their bargain against her, she realized. So, what else could she say, but, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll remain calm, be at peace and sow joy.” Her voice was trembling. “And thank you. For everything.”

He nodded, but the action was stiff. “Do us both a favor and guard your thoughts, your words.”

“I will.”

“Good.” He nodded again, glanced at her lips, stepped toward her—took another step and vanished.

Her heart skipped a beat.

“Co Co?”

What am I going to do with that man? “Coming, La La.”

She raced into the bedroom on unsteady legs, only to grind to a halt, everything else suddenly forgotten. The sight that greeted her brought a fresh round of tears to her eyes. Her beautiful sister was here, home, and totally lucid. She was sitting up, with blond hair tangled around her delicate shoulders. Her color was healthier than before and bright, her gray eyes sparkling.

Nicola had never thought to have this again.

“Who’s here? Because, whoever he is, I like his voice. Very rough, very intense,” Laila said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before wiggling her brows. “Very hubba hubba.”

Just how much should she tell her? Nicola wondered. How much could Laila take right now, when she had believed nothing else Nicola had said on the matter?

Did the answers really matter? If Koldo was going to teach Laila how to survive, and he was, the two would have to come to an arrangement.

Nicola drew in a deep breath. “What do you know about angels and demons?” she asked.

* * *

KOLDO FLASHED TO the cave where he’d stashed his mother, remaining on the outskirts of the door to the cavern. He listened. Along with a drip and flow of water, he could hear Cornelia muttering about how much she hated him.

“—rotten to the core, just like his father. Lives only to make me suffer.”

He ground his teeth together. How could she see him that way? Not now—she had every reason now—but before, when he’d been such an innocent little boy, so desperate for her affection. After all these centuries, he’d still never figured it out.

He’d made the mistake of asking her only once.

Everything about you disgusts me! You’re evil. An abomination. But you know that already. I’ve told you.

A thousand times or more. But I’m innocent. Blood of your blood.

You carry my shame, nothing more.

His hands curled into fists. What would Nicola think of him now, standing here as a woman suffered at his hands? Nicola, who had enjoyed touching him. Nicola, who had looked at him as if he were worthy. Nicola, who had kissed him with such passion and asked for more.

He’d had her in his arms. He’d had her body pressed against his and her scent in his nose. He’d felt the thunderous pound of her heartbeat. Need had created a wild tempest inside him, undeniable, nearly uncontrollable.

His hands had begun to burn just as fiercely as his blood, as if coming to life for the first time. Rather than sinking into a pit of despair—bloodstained hands on a woman who deserved better—he’d reveled in the knowledge. Sent Ones produced essentia, a fine powder that waited underneath the surface of their skin. Koldo’s had never broken free.