Angels' Blood (Guild Hunter #1)(50)

He molded her sensitive flesh. "Then this will blow over very fast." His tone said otherwise. "Now open your mouth."

She did just that-to tell him not to give her orders. But he took advantage, sweeping in to entangle her senses in a wash of male hunger and the exotic, erotic taste of angel dust. She dug her fingers into his back, glorying in the heavy muscle under her touch. His lips left hers to trail down her neck-he grazed her with his teeth, leaving marks. "I would like very much to f*ck you, Elena."

She sucked in a cool breath of air, then buried her face against his neck, vividly conscious of his hand on her breast. "Such a romantic proposal."

His wings brushed her back as he closed them even tighter around her. "Would you prefer flowery words, paeans to your beauty?"

She laughed, licked at his skin, taking the savage, quintessentially masculine scent of him deep inside. The idea of Raphael serenading her was preposterous. "No, honesty works for me." Especially when that honesty was coated in pure sexual fire, a dark heat focused solely on her.

"Good." He began to move.

"Stop." She wiggled, surprising him into letting her go. The second her feet touched the ground, she pushed off his chest . . . then had to use him to balance herself when her legs wobbled.

He put one hand on her waist to steady her. "I never took you for a tease."

"I'm also not a pushover." She wiped the back of her hand across her lips. It came away sparkling with fine glitter, making her wonder about the rest of her face. "I just spent the night tied up in a chair, buddy."

"You're saying we're even?" He folded back his wings.

The sudden space made her realize how close she was to the edge of the roof. Taking a few wary steps forward, she nodded. "You disagree?"

Eyes the color of the deepest oceans gleamed. "Whether I do or not, it's good you stopped us. We have something to discuss."

"What?"

"It'll soon be time to earn your paycheck."

Fear and exhilaration burst through her veins. "You have a bead on Uram?"

"In a sense." His face was suddenly very ascetic, all traces of sensuality smoothing away to reveal the bone structure no mortal man would ever possess. "We'll eat first. Then we will speak of blood."

"I don't want to eat."

"You will." His tone was absolute. "I won't be accused of mistreating my hunter."

"Change that pronoun," she said. "I'm not yours."

"Really?" His lips curved slightly and it wasn't amusement. "Yet you have my mark driven into your skin."

She brushed at the backs of her hands. The damn glittery stuff stuck. "It'll wash off."

"Perhaps."

"You better hope it does-a glow-in-the-dark hunter won't exactly blend in."

A very male appraisal gleamed in those eyes. "I could lick it off you."

The embers low in her body flamed up, melting her from the inside out. "No, thanks." Yes, please, her body murmured. "I need to shower anyway."

The austere expression on his face shifted to pure sensuality between one heartbeat and the next. "I'll wash your back."

"An archangel deigning to wash a hunter's back?" She raised an eyebrow.

"There would be a price, of course."

"Of course."

His head tilted up without warning. "It seems we'll have to postpone that discussion."

She turned her head in the same direction, but could see nothing except a painfully bright sky. "Who's up there this time?"

"No one you need to concern yourself about." The arrogance was back full force. Then he snapped out his wings and the air rushed out of her.

Someone so beautiful shouldn't exist, she thought. It was impossible.

I'm only beautiful to you, Elena.

She didn't tell him to get out of her head this time. She kicked him out.

He blinked, his face otherwise expressionless. "I thought I'd imagined that little trick of yours."

"Guess not." Her elation had her grinning so hard her face felt like it might crack. Damn, if she could really do this . . . But then logic reasserted itself. Doing this gave her one hell of a headache, so she had to stop being stupid and keep it in reserve for when she really, desperately needed it. "Logic sucks."

Raphael's lips curved but this time, the smile held an edge of cruelty, a reminder that the man she'd kissed was also the Archangel of New York, also the man who'd held her over a mortal fall and whispered of death in her ear. "Eat," he said now. "I'll return to join you."

Again, that sense of deja vu hit her as he simply stepped back off the roof. She stood in place this time, though her stomach went into free fall. But then there he was, winging his way upward, the wind of his flight whipping air across her face. It was tempting to keep watching after him, but she turned away, well aware she was walking a very thin line.

Raphael wanted her, but that was something separate from his duties as the Archangel of New York, a fact she'd do well to remember-even if she survived Uram, she'd still likely be marked for death. The simple fact was that she knew too much. And she wasn't even close to getting Raphael to swear an oath. Damn. Striding over to the breakfast table, she hesitated. Back to the elevator shaft or to the wide-open sky?