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Wrath closed his eyes and drank in the rose and lotus scent of the angel cradled against his chest. Her silky skin pressed against his throat. Her breath huffed softly against his chest. Ramiel’s source power brushed against his, familiar and yet different from the signature of the archangel. Softer and lighter, lustrous and alluring, calling to him on a primal level.
When he’d first seen her falter in the air, his heart had lodged in his throat, and he’d almost shredded his wings getting to her in time to stop her plummeting to the ground.
She stirred things within him that he would rather were left dormant. Not since Rosabella had he felt the odd mélange of protective and possessive around a being.
The feathers of her injured wing tickled his arm. He’d wanted to puke when he’d seen the damage to the humerus. A simple break had become a complete longitudinal fracture with her insisting on flying with it. He’d been moments away from summoning Ramiel to help her, but his stubbornness had stopped him. He didn’t want Ramiel close to her. Hated the idea of seeing the adoration in her beautiful eyes when she gazed at her archangel. He had poured every ounce of his own healing strength into the break, and it had sped up knitting her humerus. The effort had exhausted him, but thank fuck it had done something, because if it hadn’t, he would have been left with no other option but to summon the feathery fartberry.
She murmured in her sleep and shifted against him. Her hip brushed his crotch.
His cock, the pig sniffer, took notice and stirred.
The lust seal was worsening, and here in Shade’s demesne, the effects were shooting through his system. He wanted to move his hand up and cup the generous jut of Haziel’s breast, strum the nipple until it stood hard and proud, and ready for his mouth.
Haziel made a soft moan and burrowed closer to him.
Not helping. The lust seal could be fastening its sticky tentacles around her as well.
His cock loved that idea so much, it offered up a salute.
He was getting confused. The seals were breaking and playing havoc with his emotions. He felt no tenderness for her. He didn’t want to slide inside her and stay there until they were both satisfied. He didn’t even like angels.
Yeah, the lust seal was the problem here. It had to be.
Chapter Eighteen
“Haziel,” Wrath rasped close to her ear. “Time to wake.”
“No.” She moaned her reluctance. Waking meant abandoning a delicious dream about Wrath pinning her to the wall of the cave, pressing his hard body against her, and pillaging her mouth with his tongue. Her nipples were hard and tight, and she throbbed between her thighs. She hadn’t been celibate while she waited for Ramiel to notice her, but it had been a while since she’d had those needs met.
“Angel.” He accompanied his words with a gentle shake. “You should be well enough to walk now, and we need to go.”
And she’d been having an erotic dream about him. Heat bloomed in her cheeks as her reality dissipated the lingering fog of her dream. She had no business having dreams like that about any hell prince, and especially not this one. He was Ramiel’s opposing force. Even dreaming of him made her feel like a traitor to Ramiel. She loved Ramiel and only Ramiel. She’d adored him for centuries. Hell was known to play tricks on angels.
“Well, well,” Wrath murmured. “I’d love to know what has your face all flushed.”
As long as he didn’t ask, she wouldn’t have to tell him. Haziel hauled herself to her feet, gingerly testing her wing. It wouldn’t be flying soon, but it had healed enough for her to tuck it away. She stood, easing residual stiffness from her legs and back.
“Good morning.” Wrath greeted her with a smirk that, thanks to aftershocks from her dream, made her belly tighten. Gripping the back of his shirt, he hauled it over his head.
She tried not to stare, she really did, but all the smooth, hard muscle right in front of her made that near impossible. “What are you doing?”
“I thought I would take advantage of what is offered.” He gestured the pool before unfastening his pants and shimmying out of them.
Holy wing feathers but the prince was beautifully put together. Rumor had it naked Shade was a sight to behold, but she didn’t know how anything could beat the eye feast currently before her. Powerful slabs of muscle packed his shoulders and chest and then tapered into the slimness of his hips. His stomach muscles descended like a ladder into his waistband and made her want to walk her fingers up and then down.
He turned and provided her with a delicious back view of the taut globes of his ass with their deep indents on each side. Powerful thigh muscles tapered to his knees.
All the hell princes and archangels were beautiful. It stood to reason if you were assuming a form for millennia, you’d make it a good one.
She’d seen Ramiel naked plenty of times. He liked her to take notes when he bathed and wasn’t shy about stripping down in front of her. But she’d never once wanted to sink her nails into his ass, or even bite like she did now.
Wrath took his distracting form beneath the water, and she was able to draw a full breath for the first time in heaven knows how many minutes. Naked Wrath viewing had seemed to take hours, or perhaps that was merely wishful thinking.
Submerged to below his bulky shoulders, he turned to her. “Will you join me?”
Yes, please, yelled her inner angel. And because she was who she was, and Ramiel had cursed her with honesty, her outer angel opened its mouth and said the same thing, “Yes, please.”
Wrath grinned and stroked the water with his arms. “You need to strip.” He gestured to her body. “Unless you have something other than that to wear.”
