Seraphim do not require pleasure.
Not true.
Not true at all.
Why did the council hide the truth? For male Seraphim to procreate, they had to ejaculate. Which meant they clearly had to feel something for an orgasm to occur. Yet, all this time, she had thought it was a physical reaction due to necessity.
Caro had never considered trying to excite herself because her superiors told her there was no point. The only Seraphim who embraced sensation and emotion were those who required it for their gifts to work, and Caro possessed no such need. Hence, she had never tried. And oh, how wrong she had been to deny herself this.
Sethios made me scream for him.
And I enjoyed it.
She quivered as the sensual memory of Sethios’s body joining hers rolled through her thoughts. Her thighs clenched as a dark craving heated her blood. The muscular arm wrapped around her bare waist didn’t help. If she rotated her hips, she’d hit his groin.
Would he understand the invitation? Would he accept?
Caro bit her lip to keep from groaning, both from need and frustration. This was the point where she should try to torture him for information and then kill him, not try to fornicate again.
Fuck, her mind corrected. That’s what Sethios had called it. Fucking.
Seductive images assaulted her senses, causing her to squirm. She wanted more of those delicious feelings, the ones that left her limbs shaking and created stars behind her eyes.
It was so wrong but felt so right.
How many decades of her life had she spent in a cocoon of logic, refusing to experience emotion? Sethios had shattered her placative bubble and introduced her to a hidden part of herself. Would she ever be able to forget? To return to her previous self?
I’ve lost my mind, she realized.
It’s this plane. It’s messing with my sense of perception.
Or it’s Sethios.
No.
Why would he alter her in this manner?
Perhaps to keep her from delivering her message to Osiris. Or as a way to protect himself from the inevitable. For Sethios needed to die. He was an abomination to Seraphim kind. Even if he did inspire explosions that sent her soul to a plane of nonexistence.
Ice trickled through her veins as her purpose slowly reappeared. If she failed in her mission to give the edict to Osiris, the High Council would send someone else, and Caro would be reprimanded.
She shivered at the picture of what that would entail. Seraphim couldn’t be killed, but they could suffer. And that’s what would happen if she didn’t complete her task, especially if they learned about her evening in Sethios’s bed.
Caro needed to remove herself from his grasp—now—or she risked losing more of her intelligence. Because this could not continue. To even consider extending their time together broke all manner of rationality. It was bad enough that she agreed to this exchange in the first place.
She attempted to dislodge herself from his hold and yelped as the world shifted abruptly. Her back hit the mattress as he pinned both of her wrists above her head in one of his hands.
“Good morning,” he murmured as he settled on top of her. “Going somewhere?”
His intense green eyes smoldered, causing her pulse to jump. He’d given her that look last night right before biting her. She’d expected it to hurt, but instead it set her bloodstream on fire.
“I… Our…” She cleared her throat as she fought for control of her wayward mouth. “You owe me a location.”
“Do I?” His free hand went to her hip. “And you were going to request that from me after rolling out of my bed?”
She licked her lips while considering how to reply to that. “I, uh, planned to get dressed first.”
“Did you?” He arched a brow. “Interesting. Most women do not voluntarily leave my bed, nor do they do so without my express permission.”
