Archangel's Consort (Guild Hunter #3)(75)

A laugh that sounded wet. “And it would be easier if you followed my every command.”

They looked at each other for a long, long moment ... then Raphael reached forward, cupped her cheek. “I will give you your freedom,” he said, fighting every instinct he had, “on one condition.”

Lines formed between her brows. “What condition?”

“Do you not trust me, hunter?”

“Not a bit, not when you’re trying to get your own way.” But she leaned her cheek into his touch, stroking her own fingers through his hair.

He shifted his grip to her jaw, firmed his hold. “You will cal me. No hesitations, no thinking, no waiting until the last possible moment. If you’re in danger, you will call me.”

“Within reason,” she bargained. “A vamp hopped up on bloodlust coming after me is a different case from a power-crazed angel.”

“I’m not used to negotiating.” Most people gave him everything he demanded.

A slow, slow smile that melted away the lingering tendrils of the cold rage within him. “I guess the next several hundred years are going to be an education then, huh?”

He could not help it. He kissed her, took that warmth, that laughter inside of him, where it could warm him, too. You tease an archangel at your peril.

Strong arms around his neck, fingers playing over the arches of his wings. I dunno, I kinda like what it gets me.

Her lips parted beneath his, and he surged in, claiming her with a hunger that no longer startled him. It was as if the bond between them grew ever deeper with every hour that passed. You will call me.

Within reason.

He considered it, smiled in satisfaction. Very well. But you will explain each and every injury each time you do not call me.

Breaking the openmouthed intimacy of the kiss, she glared at him. “That is a ridiculous stipulation for a hunter!”

He put his arms around her and pulled her off the branch, using his power and strength to take them high up into the star-studded skies.

“Raphael,” she said when he released her far above the night clouds, “I’m serious. You can’t expect me to, to—”

He shifted direction. “Answer to me?”

“Yes!” she said, changing her angle of flight to follow.

“And am I not answerable to my consort?”

The words Elena had been about to say died in her throat. “Well ,” she murmured, letting him catch her around the waist, “if you put it like that, I can’t exactly argue, can I?” It was an unexpected, breath-stealing gift, his open acceptance of her claim.

Blue fire licked in his eyes, his mouth brushing over hers in tiny, teasing bites. Then, will you dance with me, Elena?

She felt her eyes widen, her stomach fil with butterflies. “Now? Here?”

Raphael’s hands played over her ribs, his thumbs brushing the lower curves of her breasts. Now. Here.

“But—” The air left her throat as he bit at her lower lip at the same time that he rolled one of her nipples through the fabric of her tank. Wait. Wait. She had to ask him something before her brain turned to mush.

Rain and wind around her, fresh and wild and open, the archangel’s hand closing with open possession over her breast. I do not wish to wait.





Chapter 26





God, she was sunk, putty in his hands. Only her discomfort at the question circling in her mind gave her the will to break the kiss, to suck in a breath . . . while the angel dipped his head to close his teeth over the frantical y beating pulse in her neck.

“Surveil ance!” she blurted out. “There are satel ites everywhere! Won’t someone see?” She was too private, too possessive, to share this moment with anyone.

One hand stroking down over her back, to her bottom. I am an archangel, Elena. I have enough power to blow out every satellite in the world.

“That’s not what I—” She cried out as he bit down on her pulse then licked the small sensual hurt, her hands fisting in the thick silk of his hair.

No one will see us. A kiss that took over her mouth. I used my power to shield us from view as soon as we flew out of Manhattan.

She bit down on his lip this time. “Thanks for tell ing me.”

One strong hand clenched on her hip. “Biting is not nice, Elena.”

Oh, dear God. When he started teasing . . . Forget about the putty. She was melting into a big old pile of goo. Pushing away in self-defense, she tried valiantly to hover and failed. But she managed to turn her drop into a sweep that drew up into a vertical climb. Show me how angels dance, Raphael.

A second later, he was there with her, his body spiraling around her own as she climbed, his speed and agility so stunning that everything female in her resonated in response. Mine, she thought, this magnificent creature with his wings of gold and eyes of relentless blue is mine.

A shimmer in her peripheral vision and then ... sex. Pure sex and temptation and passion on her tongue. Dusting me again, Archangel? Licking the delicious, decadent taste of Raphael’s special blend of angel-dust off her lips, she flew through the fine, fine particles, feeling the wicked caress of it cover every exposed inch of her body—including her wings.

Next time, I will do it when you are clothed in nothing but skin.

She clenched her thighs at the sensual impact of that image. It would drive her mad, she thought, that level of sensation. But she’d always known that loving an archangel would be no easy matter. Smiling, she dropped without warning, simply folding her wings and plummeting to the earth.