Angels' Blood (Guild Hunter #1)(49)

She met those beautiful, dangerous eyes and knew he could tempt her into hell itself. "Maybe this is your revenge?" Flicking out her tongue, she took a careful taste.

Ambrosia.

A shudder vibrated through her body, her toes curled, and she almost purred. "Wow, orgasm on a stick." And a good orgasm at that. "You go around shedding this stuff?" A tendril of jealousy snaked its way up her body. She crushed it, telling herself she was going to add Big in front of her Idiot tattoo. "Guess it's a power trip to see mortals scrambling for it."

His lips curved. "Oh, this is a special blend for you." Taking one of the fingers she hadn't licked, he rubbed it along her lips. "What we usually shed is apparently comparable to the most delicious of chocolates or the finest of wines. Decadent, rich, and very expensive."

She told herself she wasn't going to lick the glitter off her lips. "And this blend?" The taste was inside her mouth without her having any knowledge of taking it in. And Raphael was incredibly close, his wings creating a white gold wall around them, his hands strong and warm on her hips. "What's so special about it?"

"This blend," he murmured, bending his head, "is about sex."

She put her hands on his chest but it wasn't a protest. After the blood, the fear, she needed to touch him, to know this glorious creature existed. "Another form of mind control?"

He shook his head, his mouth a hairbreadth from hers. "It is only fair."

"Fair?" She flicked her tongue along his lower lip. It made his hands clench on her hips.

"If I licked you between your thighs, your taste would have the same aphrodisiac effect on me."

No woman on the planet could've resisted the sexual heat of Raphael at that moment. "Is this your idea of refueling?" she murmured, biting down softly on his lower lip.

His arms slid around her. "Sex and power have always been connected." And then he kissed her.

Her feet lifted up on tiptoe as she tried to get closer. His arms crushed her to his chest, his wings blocking out the world as she gripped his shirt and tried not to drown under the overload of pleasure. That erotic, aphrodisiac angel dust seemed to be sinking into her pores through every inch of exposed skin, snaking through her body to collect in the hot, aching place between her thighs, the excess flowing through her body in a rush of liquid heat. Her breasts ached, her lips craved him.

"How's the power generation going?" she gasped when he let her up for air.

His eyes were still as dark but sparks of electric blue glittered in the depths. "Exquisitely."

Her reply was lost in the fury of his next kiss. Under her hands, his chest was hard, sculptured, hot. She wanted to shape, to taste, to pet. Stroking up, she found the collar of his shirt, and slid one hand inside to lie against his shoulder. His reaction was to grip her bottom with one hand and raise her so the hard ridge of his erection pressed against the vee of her thighs.

There was nothing removed or angelic about him at that moment. He was pure sexy, gorgeous male. And strong, so beautifully strong it made her feel feminine to the core. For the first time in her life, she didn't have to hold back her hunter strength. That was a little-known fact about hunters who were born, not trained. They were stronger than an ordinary human, more likely to survive an encounter with a pissed-off vamp.

"Good," was Raphael's only reaction when she wrapped both legs around his waist. He continued to hold her as if she weighed nothing and it was almost as erotic as the way his hand shaped her, strong and confident.

"You kiss pretty well for a guy with wings," she murmured into the intimacy of his mouth. The truth was, he was threatening to blow off the top of her head.

"And your mouth is going to get you into trouble yet again." He shoved a hand up under her T-shirt, spreading those strong fingers against her spine, igniting a shock of pleasure. "Feeling coerced?"

"Extremely." But he'd been telling the truth about the angel dust-it tasted like pure sex but didn't seem to be affecting her mind . . . at least no more than could be accounted for by the lust racing through her system.

He shifted his hold at that moment, continuing to support her with one hand under her butt, while the other snaked around her body to cup her breast. Electricity arced through her. "You don't waste time," she said, breaking the kiss to suck in a breath.

"Mortals don't live long." He pinched her nipple through her bra. "I have to take advantage of you while I can."

"Not funny. Oh-" She pushed into his hands, wondering at herself. She'd never, not once, fallen for the vampires she so often came in contact with. More than one hunter had-hell, the old ones were not only pretty, they were smart and knew exactly how to please a lover. Dmitri was the perfect example.

Yet Elena had resisted, knowing that, for all their appeal, they were, in the end, almost-immortals who saw her as nothing more than a fleeting diversion. And she'd fought too hard for her right to live to value it so cheaply. But here she was, wrapped around an archangel. "How long do you play with your toys?"

He cupped her breast. "As long as they amuse me."

The answer should have dampened the heat between them but those eyes of his, they were furious with sex, with hunger, with passion such as she'd never before known. "I have no intention of amusing you."