making love as a powerless being. There was no dark magic holding Quel here. There was no reason other than chemistry to make him want her. To desire her. How did humans manage it? How did they overcome the fear and doubt?
The kiss turned even hotter. Then he was pulling off her shirt and smoothing his hands over her breasts. She unhooked the bra. He threw it out of the way. His pants dropped, then hers. And he reached for a bedside box.
They were frantic now as he backed her up against the wall. It was a blur of sensation, uncontrollable need. Kissing wasn’t the only thing that was going to be good with Quel Laredo. Of that she was absolutely sure.
He lifted one thigh over his hip. “Quel . . .” she moaned. She thought she saw a shadow of a smile as he hoisted her other leg off the floor. Then he plunged deep.
A flash of pain, a swift intake of breath. In the next breath the stinging dissolved into sheer pleasure.
“Who are you thinking of now?” he demanded. “Me or him?” He was thrusting slow, swaying just right. His eyes were dark, burning into hers.
“You,” she whispered. Dark satisfaction, even triumph glimmered in Quel’s gaze as he crushed his mouth to hers. Perhaps he read the earnestness there that she hadn’t revealed before, perhaps, too, a glimpse of her surrender, yet she felt nothing that smacked of defeat. She’d simply told the truth, a new habit for her, but one that felt exquisitely freeing.
She clung to him as he rocked inside her, her fingers grasping for purchase on his hard, slick body. No words now, only her sighs and his groans, his scent mingling with hers. Her human body was a gift. The pleasure it brought her was intense. Sex had always been good but never like this. Never like—
“Oh!” She came apart, crying out as she writhed against him.
“Angel,” he hissed, pressing his teeth to her shoulder as he thrust into her body. His peak came soon after, crashing over them both like an earthquake before subsiding into trembling aftershocks.
He swept her away from the wall and tossed her onto the bed, kissing his way down her body to where she still throbbed for him. When his lips touched her between her thighs, her body made no secret of how he affected her. She moaned, arching her back. He chuckled smugly. “Angel, we’re gonna have a good night tonight.”
They kissed and stroked each other until Quel pushed up, frowning down at the tangled sheets. “You’re bleeding.”
“I am?” She squinted in the dim light but couldn’t make out much.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No.” Then she remembered the pain. “Just for a minute.”
He stretched out next to her, his head propped on one hand, his other flattened on her stomach. The heat of his palm, the male possessiveness in his touch, made her shiver. “It’s not your period?”
“I . . . don’t think so.” Could this body menstruate? The other bodies hadn’t.
“Shay?”
“Yes?”
One, two moments of silence ticked by before he asked, “Were you a virgin?”
Hades. That was it. She hadn’t even thought about the issue of virginity. She’d been so hot for Quel that she’d forgotten all about her cover. Her demon self was no virgin, but her physical body was—as innocent and untouched as . . . that damn soul she was stuck with. “I should have thought to say something.”
“Hell yeah, you should have.” His gaze had changed. It was oddly soft, as was his voice. “Jesus, Shay. Why didn’t you?”
“Would it have mattered?” She honestly wanted to know.
“Damn right, it would have. I would have done things differently.”
Curiosity burned. She’d never experienced lovemaking where the act had been entirely voluntary—a fact best kept secret, though. “How so?”
His mouth, tipped in that half smile of his, filled her vision as he moved closer. “Give me a second to recover,” he said low in her ear, “and then I’ll show you.”
Toward dawn, Quel gently roused her from a doze of pure exhaustion. Her human body tired as quickly as it surrendered to pleasure. The trade-off was worth it. “I knew your ass looked great in jeans.” Quel nibbled and kissed his way down from her neck to the ticklish spot between her shoulder blades and lower. His heavy erection brushed against her thigh. The man was insatiable. She quite liked that. “Though I’ve got to say it looks a hell of a lot better without them.” On all fours, he playfully bit her left cheek.
She laughed then winced as she rolled over. Her body continued to remind her that tonight was its first time making love.
As did Quel. “Sore?” He sounded slightly more smug than sorry.
“Yes. A bath sounds lovely right now.”
“Sorry, angel. I’ve got a shower, no tub. There’s a new motel in town. Nice place. Maybe on your next night off we’ll check in and have ourselves a party in one of those in-room Jacuzzis.”
His words shattered the lovely spell she’d been under all evening. There wouldn’t be a next time.
Bat bugger. What had she been thinking, coming here tonight? She should have said no to the drink, she should have stayed close to the Faithfulls’ home. She’d put Quel at risk by spending the night with him. It was a selfish risk, even if she hadn’t planned on it going this far. Lucifer was all too good at discovering her affinity for anyone and anything—and taking it away.
She wriggled out from under Quel’s weight. “It’s nearly dawn. I’ve got to go.” She hurried around the room, snatching her clothes off the floor, blaming her mistake on her addiction to feeling alive—and her curiosity and attraction to Quel.
She was going to miss him. She was going to miss this life. More so than the others, this one had felt . . . real. Her body did, too, she thought with another wince. Her other bodies had all been virginal. Why hadn’t they stung like this one did? Maybe it, too, like this life, was real.
The realization froze her in place. Did the soul mean she was no longer a demon? No, that was impossible.
Jeans, bra, blouse . . . one shoe, then two. Frantically she tore through the fallen garments. “Did you see my—?”
“Panties?” Propped up on one elbow in bed, glorious in his unself-conscious nakedness, he twirled her tiny undergarment on his finger. “Come and get ’em, angel.” His blue eyes danced with devilish mischief of the sexual sort, reminding her all too much of Swift River the last time she saw him. The night he died.
Lucifer would make her kill Quel, too. She thrust out her hand. “I have to go, Laredo.”
In a move so swift she hadn’t time to react, he caught her hand, yanking her across his body. She batted at him, pushing him away as he kissed her . . . kissing her until she’d melted into the embrace. It didn’t take long at all to thaw her. She could almost taste the smile she was certain curved that self-satisfied mouth, a smile she sensed faded as he rolled her under his body to give her a kiss as tender as any she’d ever experienced.
When he finally lifted his head, cradling her face in his hands, she was reluctant for their lips to part. No one, not even the men she’d persuaded to love her, had ever kissed her quite like that. “That’s my parting gift to you, angel,” he said quietly. “A little something to remember me by.”
“I will remember you.” With that vow, a shiver ran through her. “Always.”
Suddenly gruff, he pushed her waded-up panties into her hand. “Shower. Get dressed. Whatever you need to do, Cinderella. I’ll walk you home.”
“Cinderella?”
“Yeah. I gotta get you home before your coach turns into a pumpkin. As long as you leave a glass slipper behind, we’re cool.”
“And you accused me of babbling?”
“Hey, you’re the teacher. You know your fairy tales better than I do.”
Actually, she didn’t. “Of course. Cinderella. The glass coach.”
