Far From Heaven

She nodded, and for a moment he thought she wasn’t going to speak. “I do. I feel better than I have in a while, actually.”

“That’s good.” His hand reached her neckline and he lifted his other one as well, tracing the straps of her dress before slipping beneath them and urging them off her shoulders. She gasped as her dress fluttered to the floor, making a tiny, sudden movement as if she wanted to cover herself but thought better of it. Considering what they’d just done in her car, it was a little late for modesty, but his lips curled at the gesture anyway.

It was endearing, but completely unnecessary. She stood before him in her bra and panties, neither article of clothing leaving much to the imagination. Black lace barely covered her candy-pink n**ples, or hid the sweet juncture of her thighs. She’d worn this for someone else, he knew, but it was that poor bastard’s loss. And Ash’s very delicious, very enticing gain.

He measured her deep, steady breathing by watching the minute rise and fall of her rounded shoulders, thinking it must be a struggle for her to keep it so slow and rhythmic. He wanted to watch it go out of control with ecstasy again. The thought of pulling the life from this perfect vessel in front of him seemed a sin of the highest order, but that was what he was here for. That was what he wanted. “Has anyone ever told you how exquisite you are?”

Her lashes fluttered as she blinked at him. “Exquisite? No.”

“Has anyone ever shown you?”

The question affected her; he’d have to be blind not to see it. For a moment he feared the glimmer in her eye was a welling tear, but her voice held no sign of its presence. “Not really, but that’s okay.”

It wasn’t. These ignorant men in her life—they could have her in a way Ash never could, and not one of them had ever treated her as the treasure she was. They could spend a lifetime with her, form an unbreakable bond based on trust and honesty, love her every night of their lives until death took them. Ash could have her only by lies and deception and underhandedness. He could have her only by stealing her.

Not one of those others had ever made her feel as she did now with only his gaze caressing her flesh. He knew because her emotions were coming through loud and clear. If he’d had a heart, it would be breaking for her.

Quite possibly, it was all his fault. He was the one who’d broken her. She’d never had a chance.

As if some string that had been holding her captive suddenly snapped, she surged forward and caught his face between her hands, caught his lips with her own. Blind lust ripped through him, blazed a trail through the cold wasteland of his soul, and he met her on the same plane of hunger and desperation. Her soft body pressed tight to his, her lavender-tinged scent swirled in his mind. Her warmth suffused him.

Gripping her ass, he lifted her against him and headed instinctively to her bedroom, every step torture as she ground against the hard ridge of his cock—his hard-on hadn’t abated since the parking garage and now it bordered on painful. He almost missed the door and barely avoided slamming her into the frame. She giggled as he cleared it, her mouth unwilling to leave his. A little squeal escaped her as he tumbled them both onto the bed.

He paused and stared down at her, smoothing the hair back from her forehead. Her face was cast half in shadow and half in the light filtering in from the window. Split in two, light and dark. Much like her soul. As he watched, her swollen lips parted and the tip of her tongue swept the bottom. Ah, she was trying to kill him. He was nestled in the cradle of her thighs, and every tiny movement of her h*ps sent lightning through his system. It might only be his imagination, but he could swear he felt the damp heat of her even through his jeans.

“This isn’t fair,” she whispered, her hands creeping under his shirt. “I’m damn near nak*d and you’re not.”

“It’s a problem,” he agreed, lifting so that he knelt between her thighs. Never taking his gaze from hers, he began unbuttoning his shirt. She watched the progress of his hands, the pulse jumping at the base of her throat. He thought he could practically hear it drumming in his ears. No sooner had he completed his task than she sat up and pressed her soft lips to his stomach, just above the edge of his jeans.

His muscles jumped at the contact, tensing when her wet little tongue flickered against his flesh. A growl caught in his throat as he flung the shirt the rest of the way off; his hands sank into her hair hard enough to hurt, but she didn’t utter a single whimper. Instead, her nimble fingers attacked the button of his jeans, and he grasped the opportunity to reach behind her and unhook the cursed bra that kept her hidden from his sight. She tore it away and yanked his jeans down his thighs, freeing his c*ck and giving a mew of appreciation.

Bliss engulfed him whole. It was her hands on him, wrapping lovingly around his girth, her warm breath tickling across the head. But if she laid those pretty, wet lips on him at this point, he would lose his last tenuous grip on control.

He grasped the sides of her head, wrenching it upward so she could receive his kiss. And receive it she did, every bit as wild as he was, their tongues dueling and teeth nipping. He propelled her backward again, catching his weight on his elbows so as not to crush her.

“Ash, touch me,” she whispered, undulating her h*ps so that she rubbed against his erection. Only one tiny barrier existed between them now, and it was sweet torture. Now he could for damn sure feel how wet she was; the panel of her lacy black panties was drenched and he deliberately stroked the head of his dick over it as she arched against him. “Please. I can’t wait any longer.”

Oh, she had no idea about waiting. About agony. He wasn’t too keen on teaching her about them at the moment, either. He’d had enough of both.

She gasped into his mouth as her panties gave with one wrenching pull, the elastic no doubt biting into her flesh as it snapped. The scent of her need swirled in his head, intoxicating him, drawing his balls up tight. Her hands skated up and down his back, her nails lightly scoring his flesh. She lifted her hips, causing his shaft to graze her wet clit, and the sound she made in his ear was nearly his undoing. Hard little teeth clamped onto his earlobe, driving a curse from his lips.

By the Dark Lord, but he’d never seen a more perfect image of unhinged lust. He reached between them and slipped his fingers between her legs. She sighed and relaxed beneath him as if he’d soothed her, as if he’d eased some raging discomfort for her. Her legs fell farther apart, giving him more room to explore the damp, delicate tissues, the tight little bud he’d later like to spend an hour licking and sucking until she screamed or begged him to stop. One little tilt of her h*ps and his fingertip slid lower, seeking and finding the tight entrance to her body. Madeleine gave a frantic little jerk as he breached it, her hands clenching on his shoulders even as the muscles of her inner walls fluttered around his finger. Holding him, pulling him in, demanding more.

It was on the tip of his tongue to whisper to her how long he’d wanted her. But that would prove catastrophic. She wouldn’t understand. Likely, she never would. This was his one and only opportunity to have Madeleine, and he wouldn’t have given it up for all the souls in the world.

He squeezed another finger inside her and stroked, thrust slowly in and out, building her need as her little cries lilted into the silence of her bedroom. Her h*ps found his rhythm and met it, rolling with it, her p**sy so wet, so soft…

“Demon! Demon!” a weird voice croaked from the corner of the room.

What the fuck. Ash cranked his head around, lifting his hand from Madeleine’s warmth as she gave a curse that was half amusement, half frustration.

Who’d let the goblins out? And why were the little bastards set on sabotaging him? As he scanned the corner of the room, all he could see was what looked like a black sheet draped over a large, oddly shaped object.

“Sorry,” Maddie said. “I was hoping he’d stay asleep.”

“What the hell is that?”

“My parrot. He’s just introducing himself.”

“Demon! Demon!” the bird insisted.

“Introdu—” He snapped his mouth shut, utter confusion momentarily robbing him of coherent thought. “That’s his name?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Well-earned, I promise you.”

“You have a bird named Demon.”

“Mm-hmm. I can’t take credit for it though. The guy I got him from had already named him that.”

Wild wing-flapping ensued under the black cover. “Demon! Demon! Mum’s the word!”

Well, thank hellfire for small favors. Ash shook his head at this new development, and then the absolute absurdity of the situation hit him full force and something incredible happened, something that hadn’t happened in a very, very long time.

He laughed. Not in malice, or wicked glee at the suffering he’d inflicted on another, but true, genuine laughter. Madeleine joined in, her fingers sinking through his hair as his head dropped to her nak*d shoulder.

“Talk about a mood-killer, huh?” she said, shuddering with her own giggles. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize. It was just…entirely unexpected.”

“I’m sure he just, um…heard my voice and got all excited.”

“Understandable. I got pretty excited hearing you too.” He nuzzled at her throat, and she tilted her chin back for him. “Now, where was I? Right about…here?” He slid his finger down and drew teasing circles around her nipple. It responded enticingly, drawing up into a hard little peak. He kissed a trail to it, licking and nipping with his teeth.

“That’s nice, but I think you were lower than that,” she murmured. Then she moaned as he latched on to her nipple, sucking it into his mouth and holding it there mercilessly as his hand trailed downward. His fingertip slid into the tiny dip of her navel.

He released the suction on her breast with an audible little pop. But he couldn’t go far away; her hand was holding the back of his head, fisting in his hair. “Here?”

“Lower,” she said, her voice throatier and more urgent than it had been moments ago. Her h*ps were moving again, seeking to grind against him. He abandoned her br**sts to move down her body, absorbing her shivers as he settled his shoulders between her thighs. Only then did he allow his finger to slide down, down, and slowly circle her clit.

“Here?” he whispered.

Her thighs jerked. “There’s good. Anywhere around there is good.”

A chuckle escaped him as he turned his attention to the vision in front of him. Bare. Delicate. Her moisture glistened in the scant light from the window and enticed him to taste it. Even in the darkness, he could see she was flushed and swollen with her need. She was as soft against his fingers as she looked, and he took his time touching her until his mouth watered for a taste. He slid two fingers into her drenched heat, listening to her breathing go out of control. Just the way he’d wanted. She stretched around the intrusion, so sweet, so accepting. Her own hands came down and found the backs of her knees, pulling her legs farther apart.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, drawing his fingers out to their tips before slowly plunging back in again. And again. And again.