* * *
The kids were tucked up in bed, no doubt dreaming of Dreki and flying younglings. Stefan seemed to have made friends with Pika, and Gemma looked at Talia as if the sun shone out of her backside. I wasn’t jealous, I was grateful. The children needed this, and I’d been right about Ria; she was as sweet and lovely to the children as before, which made me feel a little guilty for riling her up about Dante.
Who was I to come into her world and stake claim to anything anyway?
The moon was high by the time I got to our quarters. Helgi was already snoring in her room, and the mercs were fast asleep in theirs. I undressed and climbed onto my bed, ready to let sleep claim me.
The air rippled and the hairs on my nape quivered. I sat up. “Azazel?”
A form detached from the shadows, powerful, horned, with eyes like embers. He was whole, tangible, and corporeal. The muscles of his chest and abdomen were on display, begging for my touch. My gaze dropped to the V of his hips and then back up to his beautiful face. His mouth was parted, eyes hooded as he looked at me, and it hit me. I was fucking naked except for my knickers. My mouth went dry. I should cover myself. The sheet was within reach and I should pull it up to cover my breasts, but heat unfurled inside me and I lay back against the sheets, allowing him to feast his eyes on me.
A sigh, a rumble, and then he was climbing onto the bed, his body heat brushing against my skin, raising anticipatory goosebumps.
I wanted him to touch me.
“Anya…” He said my name as if it was a desperate plea.
Back then I’d been too young to understand it, to accept it, to do anything about it. But I was a woman now, and the feelings that swirled inside me were more than desire, more than carnal need. They were linked to my heart, because Azazel was linked to my soul.
I knew what I wanted. “Kiss me.”
He growled a sound of frustration. “I can’t.”
His eyes screamed that he wanted to. “You want to.”
“Yes.”
“Then why don’t you?”
His throat bobbed. “Because I can’t, Anya.” His gaze blazed a trail over my naked body, lingering here and there and then rising to lock with mine. “I can touch you to protect you, to give you warmth or comfort you.”
He placed his hand on my midriff and my breath hitched at the contact. Then he dragged his hand up inch by inch until his fingers grazed the underside of my breast. I stopped breathing, waiting for him to move up, to cup me, to pinch my nipples. I felt the barest of touches and looked down to see his hand on my breast turn to mist.
“If I try to touch you in this way, I lose my corporeal state.”
“How long have you known?”
“The night you touched my horns, do you remember?”
How could I forget.
“You have no idea how good it felt to be touched. Too good. I was afraid of my body’s response, so I pushed you away. But later that night I came to your side of the cave. I wanted to kiss you, a soft brush of my lips to wake you, to apologize, but my lips passed through yours again and again. I couldn’t kiss you.” He touched my cheek and I felt the pressure of his fingers, the rough pads of his fingertips, calloused and real. How would they feel all over my body? How would they feel between my thighs?
A soft groan escaped my lips as carnal images flitted through my mind. He couldn’t touch me the way he wanted to, but I could be his hands. I could give us both a semblance of what we wanted.
I reached up and cupped my breast, squeezing and pinching, my breath coming quicker. “You’re touching me now. Can you feel it? My hands are yours. What will you do?”
He moaned softly, and when he spoke his voice was thick and husky with desire. “I want to slide my fingers deep into your wet heat.”
I slipped my hand into my panties, a soft moan spilling from my lips as I began to stroke myself.
“Yes,” Azazel said. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He climbed on top of me, straddling me, inhaling me as I worked myself. “Move for me.”
I began to undulate my hips, my breath catching as he nuzzled my neck, the heat of his chest brushing my breasts. He pressed his hardness to the back of my hand, flush against my groin, and began to grind. I closed my eyes and imagined he was inside me as the coil of sensation, the tightening, the tingling heat intensified. Oh fuck. Oh God.
“Yes.” Azazel gripped my hips, fingers digging in.
It was a command and my body obeyed, letting go and tumbling into the abyss. I bit back a cry as I came, allowing it to vibrate in my throat in a drawn-out moan.
Azazel’s lips hovered inches from mine. I parted my mouth and inhaled his breath, and then he misted into shadow, taking his weight with him.
I lay on my back for long minutes as my pulse regained its equilibrium, aware that Azazel was beside me. Watching me.
“Thank you,” he said.
I let out a bark of laughter. “What for? You didn’t even come.”
“You opened yourself to me. You let me share your pleasure. It was enough.”
I needed to know more. I needed to understand.
I rolled onto my side and tucked my arm under my head. “What are you, Azazel?”
He sighed. “I don’t remember. My time before I was here is fuzzy and disjointed. I remember that I dreamt, but the only dreams I remember are ones of you. I dreamt of you as a child in
