Archangel's Kiss (Guild Hunter #2)(42)

“As you command, hunter.”

Her thoughts splintered as he pinched her nipples, sending a sudden, sharp ache straight through to the heat between her thighs. She moved, restless, wanting something only he could give her. “Raphael.” His lips met hers as she angled her head to reach him, his hands soothing the ache he’d aroused with slow, easy movements. He was intensity contained, passion leashed. Breaking the kiss, she met the blazing cobalt of his eyes. “I think I’ve got my second wind.”

The slightest of smiles, one hand leaving her breast to slide down her body and over the sensitive plane of her stomach to circle her belly button. She wiggled. “Tickles.” Her bottom rubbed over the jutting hardness of his arousal, turning the heat between her legs liquid.

When he moved his hand farther down, she didn’t resist, letting him part her with stark intimacy. He toyed with her, flicking his thumb over the ultrasensitive bundle of nerve endings at the top, but not giving her the hard pressure that she needed. Shuddering, she moved her body against him, tempting, arousing . . . teasing.

He grazed his teeth along her neck. “Doing that will get you punished.”

“Oooh, I’m scared.”

He pinched her clit. Pleasure short-circuited her system, her body tightening into a bow, ready, so ready . . . but the pressure eased a moment too soon. “Raphael.” A sensual complaint, her skin shimmering with a fine layer of sweat.

“I warned you.” It was an intimate reminder as he thrust two fingers inside her, pumping hard and deep. She rode him, rode those wicked fingers, her breath coming in harsh little pants, her body moving with a will of its own. On her breast, his other hand was a possessive brand, molding and shaping. His mouth touched her neck, her shoulder, his lips marking her without hesitation, without any attempt to hide that that was exactly what he was doing.

So tight and slick and mine.

Blatantly possessive, hotly male.

Her bottom rubbed against him with every undulation of her body, driving her to a fever pitch. “I need more.”

You can’t have my cock, Elena.

She trembled, tried to find her mind. “Why not? I’m rather fond of it.”

That got her another teasing brush across her clit. Sparks flared behind her eyelids, and she barely heard him through the buzz in her head.

You’re not strong enough to take what I want to do to you.

Half insane with need, she rode him harder, faster. “Give me more.”

Are you sure? An explicit sexual question.

“Yes.”

She cried out as he spread his fingers inside her, making room for a third. The extreme fullness threw her to the edge. Then he pressed down on her clit with his thumb and she fell. The orgasm rocked through her, a hard, almost violent release that left her limp in his arms.

Raphael drew in the scent of Elena’s satisfaction, holding back the dark passion within him by the narrowest of margins, passion that wrenched at the restraints, hungering to take her with a fury he wasn’t certain she’d survive even at full strength.

A year he’d waited for her. A year he’d heard only silence when he spoke to her. He didn’t have much patience left in him. “Soon,” he murmured, speaking to the voracious need within him.

When he began to withdraw his fingers from the tight slickness of her body, that need kicked him hard, making his cock throb. He wanted to throw her onto the bed, splay her legs wide, and thrust. I’ll bite your breasts, he told her, taking his time removing his fingers, enjoying the way she clenched on him as he spoke. But mostly, I plan to f*ck you until you can’t walk.

Her body spasmed, and he realized his hunter was ready once more. Taking advantage, he slid a single finger back into her body, the second no longer able to inch in now that she was so lushly swollen with pleasure. After I sate myself, I’ll spread your legs, make you hold them open for me.

A slow, lingering thrust.

“Raphael.” Her voice was husky.

Then I’ll take my time tasting the sweet, plump flesh between your thighs.

Another thrust, another stab of pleasure-pain as her buttocks rubbed over his cock.

Mine, Elena, you are mine.

Moving up a hand, he pulled her back with his fingers on her jaw and took her mouth as he gave her a final, exquisitely intimate caress that pushed her over into orgasm once more. Her sexuality was earthy, wild, honest. It sang a siren song to him that hazed his brain, threatened to make him lose all control.

Holding her up when she finally tumbled down from the peak, he removed his finger and maneuvered her around until he could pick her up in his arms, her wings as limp as her limbs. But this time the limpness had come from passion well sated. Even if he hadn’t felt the damp evidence of it on his fingers, her sloe-eyed gaze as she looked at him from beneath her lashes was all the proof he needed.

You don’t play fair, Archangel.

She so rarely initiated mental contact that he savored it. Neither do you. My cock is about to burst.

“I promise to make it better.”

Blowing out a breath between clenched teeth, he put her on her feet in the shower, then reached over and turned on the cold water. She shrieked as the water hit her, slapping her hands on his still-clothed chest. “Get me out of here!”

“You’re an angel,” he said, soaked to the skin. “You aren’t that sensitive to the cold.” But he turned up the heat.