Wicked Nights (Angels of the Dark #1)(83)
Author: Gena Showalter

“For you, I will do anything.” He looked up at her, lashes spiky and eyes glassed. He was crying. “And I give you my vow, here and now, Annabelle, that I will not kill you. I will not allow another angel to kill you.”

And he would probably be killed for his own crimes in the process. “Don’t do that.”

He rushed on. “Somehow, someway, I will find the demon who did this to you. I will lock him away.” His grip tightened on her. “I will do everything in my power to safeguard you always. And if you cannot bear to look upon me, I will do so in secret.”

“No, I—”

“I finally comprehend what the Deity was trying to teach me,” he said, cutting her off, “what I failed to realize all these centuries. I thought I had learned, but still I would have done what I felt needed doing.”

“What are you saying?”

“Collateral damage. The people I have killed and allowed to be killed were demon possessed or cavorting with demons, and I thought their murders justified. But what if they were like you? Innocent? What if it was not just them I hurt in the end, but the people who loved them and still had hope for their salvation? What if there was hope for their salvation? Actually, there is always hope. I know that now.”

His hold on her tightened as his tears fell in earnest. “I am sorry, Anna. Not because you know my sin but because it caused you so much pain.”

Seeing him so torn up soothed her in a way nothing else could have. He cared about her. He felt remorse. Glory, he felt.

Sighing, she sifted her fingers through the silk of his hair. The fact that he had as much reason to hate demons as she did, yet he wasn’t rejecting her now that he knew she was…she was… She couldn’t think the words again. The truth would have to be dealt with, but that would come later. For now, she just wanted to bask in this moment and in the man who loved her.

And he did. He loved her. He might not realize it, having denied his emotions for so long, but she was certain of it—just as she was certain that she loved him, too. He had saved and protected her. He had seen the best in her, and was helping her do the same. He allowed no one to disrespect her, and wanted only the best for her. He would never leave her, and she would never leave him.

Yes, he was a difficult man, a complex man, and he wasn’t used to the emotions he was now experiencing, or even softness. But he gave both to her, and she would give both right back to him.

He was a part of her now, more so than…than… Anyway. He was a beautiful part, a welcome part, strong and courageous and fun to tease. He was tender and gentle, yet hard when she needed him to be.

She cooed at him until he quieted, and though she regretted the need to do it, she finally extracted herself from his hold. He offered no protest, kept his head down, once again refusing to face her.

“I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t go anywhere.” She raced into the bathroom before he could reply.

As swiftly as possible, she took care of business, brushed her teeth and removed her robe. She was naked underneath, and utterly scrubbed clean. So clean, in fact, she sparkled. However the angel robe worked, she was grateful.

Now, for Zacharel. He needed her, and she needed him. They both needed to forget what had happened, what would happen, if only for a little while.

The hinges on the door squeaked as she emerged from the bathroom. Cool air kissed her bare skin, spreading goose bumps along her arms and legs.

Zacharel sat at the edge of the bed, his elbows propped on his knees, his head bent. His wings were spread out, a wealth of gold now without any hint of white. Or snow, she realized. Once again, he’d stopped snowing.

“According to our bargain, I’m supposed to kiss you anytime the urge hits me, and you’re supposed to accept. Right?”

His gaze snapped up. He’d dried his face, but he couldn’t mask the glassiness of those emerald eyes. “Annabelle,” he said on a rumbling breath, looking her over. “After everything that’s happened, you cannot mean—”

“I do.” Slowly she walked to him. When she stood between his legs, she placed her hands on his shoulders. His muscles were knotted. His gaze moved to hers, as if he couldn’t trust himself to continue peering at the rest of her.

“I want to be with you,” she said. She frowned as a thought hit her. “Unless you’re not allowed to be with a woman melded to a—” Her lips pressed together in a thin line. She didn’t want to think the words, and she didn’t want to say them. “It’s okay if you can’t. I’ll just—”

In a rush of motion, Zacharel had his arms around her, and her feet kicked out from under her. She tumbled forward, and he positioned her in his lap. For balance, she had to straddle his thighs.

“You are mine,” he rasped. “Only ever mine. I accept all that you are, and we can be together.”

Relief poured through her, a beautiful waterfall. “I’ll make you so happy you said that, Winged Wonder.” Very gently, she pressed her lips into his, a soft melding, a gentle exploration.

“You forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

“Thank you, Anna. Thank you. And I know, the words are not enough. I will show you how I feel. Let me show you.”

She opened her mouth, and he rolled his tongue against her. His decadent flavor instantly consumed her; he was the finest aged wine, strawberries dipped in the richest chocolate, and as fresh as a newly sprung river.

The kiss remained tender and sweet—until he reclined on the mattress and his hands began to roam. The intimate contact ignited embers of sensation throughout her entire body. Their tongues dueled with more force, their lips pressed with more fervor, and they drank and drank and drank of each other.

He laved her br**sts, explored her belly, kissed every inch of her legs until she was writhing. Until he was writhing. Until they were both desperate. Then he turned her over and laved her upper back, explored her lower back, and once again kissed every inch of her legs.

When she could stand no more, the pleasure too much, she pulled his robe from him and urged him to lie down on his back—and she took over. She laved and explored and kissed him. And oh, the taste of his skin… It was as rapturous as his kiss. The sweetest of candies, drugging, addictive…and she knew she would crave this for the rest of her life.

“Anna, I need…”

“More, always more.” Was that slurred voice hers?

“Yes.”