Wicked Nights

Now, for Zacharel. He needed her, and she needed him. They both needed to forget what had happened, what would happen, if only for a little while.

The hinges on the door squeaked as she emerged from the bathroom. Cool air kissed her bare skin, spreading goose bumps along her arms and legs.

Zacharel sat at the edge of the bed, his elbows propped on his knees, his head bent. His wings were spread out, a wealth of gold now without any hint of white. Or snow, she realized. Once again, he’d stopped snowing.

“According to our bargain, I’m supposed to kiss you anytime the urge hits me, and you’re supposed to accept. Right?”

His gaze snapped up. He’d dried his face, but he couldn’t mask the glassiness of those emerald eyes. “Annabelle,” he said on a rumbling breath, looking her over. “After everything that’s happened, you cannot mean —”

“I do.” Slowly she walked to him. When she stood between his legs, she placed her hands on his shoulders. His muscles were knotted. His gaze moved to hers, as if he couldn’t trust himself to continue peering at the rest of her.

“I want to be with you,” she said. She frowned as a thought hit her. “Unless you’re not allowed to be with a woman melded to a—” Her lips pressed together in a thin line. She didn’t want to think the words, and she didn’t want to say them. “It’s okay if you can’t. I’ll just—”

In a rush of motion, Zacharel had his arms around her, and her feet kicked out from under her. She tumbled forward, and he positioned her in his lap. For balance, she had to straddle his thighs.

“You are mine,” he rasped. “Only ever mine. I accept all that you are, and we can be together.”

Relief poured through her, a beautiful waterfall. “I’ll make you so happy you said that, Winged Wonder.” Very gently, she pressed her lips into his, a soft melding, a gentle exploration.

“You forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

“Thank you, Anna. Thank you. And I know, the words are not enough. I will show you how I feel. Let me show you.”

She opened her mouth, and he rolled his tongue against her. His decadent flavor instantly consumed her; he was the finest aged wine, strawberries dipped in the richest chocolate, and as fresh as a newly sprung river.

The kiss remained tender and sweet—until he reclined on the mattress and his hands began to roam. The intimate contact ignited embers of sensation throughout her entire body. Their tongues dueled with more force, their lips pressed with more fervor, and they drank and drank and drank of each other.

He laved her breasts, explored her belly, kissed every inch of her legs until she was writhing. Until he was writhing. Until they were both desperate. Then he turned her over and laved her upper back, explored her lower back, and once again kissed every inch of her legs.

When she could stand no more, the pleasure too much, she pulled his robe from him and urged him to lie down on his back—and she took over. She laved and explored and kissed him. And oh, the taste of his skin… It was as rapturous as his kiss. The sweetest of candies, drugging, addictive…and she knew she would crave this for the rest of her life.

“Anna, I need…”

“More, always more.” Was that slurred voice hers?

“Yes.”

Yes. A word filled with hope. “Take it, then.”

He cupped under her arms, drew her up, parallel to his strong length, and rolled her over. He settled over her, pinned her.

“I want to take, as you said, but I need another kiss first.” He lowered his head and she lifted hers, and then their tongues were thrusting together.

Gentle…firm…hard…wild… The kiss spun out of control. He kneaded her breasts and thrummed her nipples, his skin was like a living flame. A heat so different than what burned inside of her. A heat that would seep all the way to her bones, torching the memory of the demon.

“Another,” he said, his mouth taking and giving, demanding and surrendering. Her nails scraped along the ridges of his spine, between his wings, and her hips arched as she sought closer, deeper contact. She was utterly consumed by this man, and all the happier for it.

“I love seeing you like this,” he admitted.

“Underneath you?”

“All mine.” He moved a hand between their bodies, between her legs. And oh, had he learned how to play her. He knew when to sink in slowly and when to increase his speed. He knew when she needed more…and more… “I can’t get enough of you.”

“Zacharel,” she said on a wispy catch of breath. “Please. All, everything.”

He stilled, a droplet of sweat winding down his temple. “You are never to beg me for anything, Anna.”

“Then you have to… I need…” She bit her lip and rubbed against him. “Please.”

He cupped her jaw and forced her to stare into his eyes. “Me, you need me.”

“Yes.” Always.

He rubbed the tips of their noses together and said, “Will you let me have you?”

“All, everything,” she repeated.

“Everything? Truly? Because I told myself I would not take you until I had your pledge to remain with me. Now, I do not deserve such a pledge.”

“Probably not, but I still give it.” She’d just realized how much she loved him. Like she would really let him go. Yes, she’d once thought to leave him before he could leave her, but that was living in fear, and fear was as much a prison as the institution had been…and so much worse. “Can you pledge the same?”

He peered down at her with utter joy. “I can. I will. You are my first, last and only lover, Annabelle Miller. I will never take another.”

“Oh, Zacharel.” Had more beautiful words ever been spoken? “You are my last and only lover, too.”

“Now I make you mine.” Inch by decadent inch, he sank inside her, claiming her, branding her. When at last he was all the way in, he stilled, strain branching from the corners of his eyes. “I am… How could… Love this.”

“Hmmm,” she purred. “Yes.”

“You belong to me,” he said.

“To you.”

“No other.”

“No other,” she agreed.

His lips found hers, their tongues meeting in a tangled clash. His hands rediscovered her breasts, kneading.

“You feel so good.”

“Yes, but…”

“More?”

“Please.”

“Like this?” He moved slowly at first.

“Yes, please, yes, exactly like that.”

He moved faster. Faster still. Finally, all she could do was wrap her legs around his waist and hold on. He chanted her name over and over, a prayer, a curse, a mooooan he couldn’t quite contain. She groaned with her pleasure. Every moment, every movement, was perfect, utterly soul changing.

“Anna…I’m going to…have to…”

“Give me everything.”

A roar left him, his entire body bowing. He hit her as deep as he could possibly go, so wonderfully deep, and yet she still arched up and tried to take him deeper. As he shuddered with completion, satisfaction found her and she cried out, holding him tight…holding on forever.

Even minutes later, when he fell upon her, heavy and lax, she refused to let go. When he rolled, he took her