Wicked Nights

with him and she ended up sprawled on his chest.

“I have no words, Anna,” he said softly.

“Good.” She didn’t, either. All she knew was that she would never be the same. This would forever change her.

This would forever change him.

He placed a reverent kiss on her temple. “Perhaps I do have two words… Thank you.”

A soft laugh left her. Perhaps a little change was a good thing.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

ZACHAREL MADE LOVE to Annabelle all through the night. He could not get enough of her. Would never get enough of her or the pleasure she gave him. He loved her breasts, so perfectly lush and perfectly tipped. He loved her stomach, a soft hollow with a tempting navel. He loved her legs, their smooth expanse of wicked delights.

He loved everything in between.

He loved the sounds she made, the way she moved, the softness and sweetness and the passion he experienced with her. He loved what she did to him, hugging him, kissing him, making him feel as if he were the most precious thing on earth.

But what he loved most was being inside her, one with her. A part of her. Twined around her, their breath mingling. Yes, the physical sensations that came with that part had delighted him, but the mental…the emotional…were even better.

Love. He was the one who had never known its true meaning, he realized. It was not just a pretty word. Genuine love was a gift. Special. Necessary. A lesson his brother had tried to teach him, but one he had ignored. Until now.

Now…as Annabelle glowed with Zacharel’s essentia, a subtle light that seeped from her pores, as if the sun was living just under her skin. He loved that, too.

Mine, he thought. She is mine. I will not share her.

“If you can bear to take a break, you insatiable beast, there’s something I want to do,” she said, climbing from the bed for an endless, abhorrent moment.

She grabbed a pen from the desk before putting him out of his misery and straddling his hips. He propped his back against the pillows as satisfaction of a different sort consumed him. They were together, no matter what their bodies were doing. Something else he loved.

“By the way, this isn’t a hint for more,” she said. “Not this time.”

“Tease.” How she thrilled him, every aspect of her. A fall of blue-black hair around her shoulders, cheeks flushed and dewy. Ice-blue eyes sparkling, lips swollen from his kisses.

“Why did you need the pen?” he asked.

“We’ll get to that. First, you gotta tell me. Am I going to get in trouble for debauching you?” she asked, then chewed on the end of that pen as she waited for his answer.

A terrible habit, he thought, gently tugging the thing from between her teeth. “Are you sure you debauched me? Because I’m not convinced. Perhaps you should try again.”

The warmth of her laughter filled the room, enchanting him. He wanted her to laugh like that at least a hundred times a day.

“Such a guy thing to say, but no more attempted debauchings tonight. I have to save something for tomorrow.”

That she planned to spend another day with him, that she had just given him something to look forward to, that she truly had forgiven him… If he’d been standing, he would have dropped to his knees, once again humbling himself before her, thankful and grateful. Now he smiled. A genuine smile of delight.

She reached out and traced a fingertip along the curve of his lips. “I love when you smile like this.” Her fingertip moved to his cheek, to the dimple Hadrenial used to flash him. “You’re… Actually, there are no words for what you are. Beautiful isn’t adequate, and exquisite barely scratches the surface.”

Appearance had never meant anything to him. Until now. “Thank you?”

Another laugh bubbled from her, her skin and her face glowing with health and life and vitality. She was the one who defied description. “Yes, that was a compliment. Now, then. The trouble thing.”

“No, you will not get into trouble. Remember, the Deity’s angels have a different purpose than the Most High’s, and are therefore governed by the same set of rules as the humans. Yes, my race was created by the Most High, and given to the Deity, but we are more like you. Not that you will ever hear any of us admit it.”

“Well, all right, then. The pen. I want to play a game with you.” She placed the tip just over his chest, frowned then looked up at him. “Wait. Another question, or a demand really. Tell me about the black spot. It’s bigger than last time—and last time it was big!”

His gaze flicked to the spot in question. Yes, the black was already several inches larger than it had been two days ago. “When my brother died, I saved his essentia. His love.”

“His spirit,” she said. “Or soul?”

“Love is an emotion, yes, but it’s also a power. So I took from his spirit. I took out a piece of mine, as well, so that some part of us would always be together. That removal killed this part of me—” he tapped the spot “— because I did not replace it.”

A dread-filled moment passed as she absorbed his words. “Why is it spreading? And don’t try to redirect me, or shut me down or tell me not to worry like you did last time. I will play a card you don’t want me to play, because yes, I can be devious like that, and then we’ll both feel bad.”

He would not have her feeling bad. “The growth was slow but steady until my Deity punished me with the snow for daring to ignore his orders. Afterward, the growth was fast and steady.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Why the growth?”

“It is…death.”

Her jaw dropped, but she snapped it shut. “Put back the piece you removed. Right now! That should stop the spread of death.”

“I cannot. What’s in the urn is a combination of Hadrenial and me. I cannot separate the two. They have already bonded.” Like the demon had bonded to her, he thought, his hands curling into fists.

Her chin went into the air, and he knew her stubborn side was kicking in. “Well, think of it this way. I’m not asking you to separate the two. I’m telling you to use the combination.”

Oh, yes. Stubborn. “I failed to save his life. I even rendered the deathblow. I do not deserve to live off him.”

“You gave him what he wanted. You ended his torment. You deserve—”

“Annabelle—”

“Zacharel. You are far better than you give yourself credit for. How many times have you saved me? What would I have done without you? What will happen to me if you…if you… I can’t even say the word! Do this. Please.”

How could he deny her anything? “I…will think about it,” he said, and he would, but deep down he knew that he would not change his mind. If he did as she wanted, he would forever carry a piece of his brother. Him, a man utterly unworthy of such a blessing.

“Thank you.”

Guilt rose, but he shoved it aside. “Now, will you show me why you have the pen?” he asked, changing the subject.

“My pleasure,” she said with a smile only half the wattage of the others. “Have you ever played tic-tac- toe?”

“I’ve never played anything.”