Fate's Kiss Page 8

  She kneeled at his feet and unbuckled his shoes. She slipped the left one off first. Her fingers kneaded his foot before latching on his stocking. It slipped off with a gentle tug and she dropped it on the carpet. She performed the same task to his right foot. The man had beautiful feet, large and well-shaped. She smothered a chuckle. The adage about a man’s cock and his feet was most definitely true when it came to her life mate.

  As she massaged his feet, Gabriel’s barely suppressed moans circled above her head. His body relaxed into her touch and she gave silent thanks to Bella for her instructions. Anne’s fingers pressed into the tops of his feet. “If you will rise, my lord, I will divest you of your breeches.”

  The never reticent Demon Gabriel suddenly became hesitant, almost shy as he sucked in air. Anne’s gaze dipped to the sharp tenting of his breeches. “Embarrassment, my lord? Yours is not the first erection I’ve seen.”

  He snarled and pushed himself up from the bed. Grabbing her hands, he jerked her against him. “Mine will be the last one you see, Anne Willoughby. I won’t share you with another man.”

  “I’ve learned many things from my travels and from the women of Holland’s League, my lord,” she said, easing her wrists from his hands. “I know how to please a man, and a woman. I have saved lives, and I have taken them.”

  She undid the buttons to his waistcoat and eased it off. Her fingers reached up and traced the curvature of his jawline, so masculine and so pale against the brown of her fingers. “Should I decide to take another human being to my bed, your ignorance would be intact.”

  Her hands went to the hem of his shirt and pushed it up over his head. When his chest lay exposed to her caress, she placed her palms flush against his flesh. One hand glided down to the top of his breeches and slid between cloth and flesh. Gabriel’s stomach became taut beneath her touch.

  “I will say this one time only, Gabriel Elstone. You are my life as I am yours. It is a pledge the Tamahaq gives once and only to her life mate. After our mating, there can be no others. If you betray me, my knife will separate your heart from your body and your head from your neck. Before that I will remove your cock and stuff it down your throat to silence your insults.”

  His hand reached around her head and his fingers twisted in her braided hair. “Besides the threat of castration, I assume you’ve ended the lives of a few undead and thus I take your warning.”

  Gabriel’s lips lightly brushed hers before curving into a smile. “You do realize I am unlike any undead you have met. It won’t be easy to take my life or remove my penis.”

  “I prefer not to kill or castrate you unless the need arises. Both are rather messy,” she said, her fingers stroking his erection. “May I finish your undressing?”

  Gabriel laughed. “Proceed.”

  Anne lifted her hand from his breeches and the silk garment fell to his ankles. She kneeled to remove them. Rising, she pointed to the large bed. “Please make yourself comfortable while I do the same.”

  8

  Coitus Interruptus

  Gabriel laid on his side and leaned on one elbow. His eyes tracked Anne when she stepped away from the bed. Her fingers unraveled the ribbons that held her braided hair. Dark tresses fell carelessly about her shoulders except for the single thin braid determined to rest against her cheek, its tip brushing her collarbone.

  Anne’s gaze remained focused on him as she undid her bodice. Behind three concealed snap-buttons a sheath for her dagger had been sewn where the false bodice and the skirt’s waist joined.

  “An unusual fashion. Do all the women of Holland’s League go about so attired?”

  “The ones who know how to use a knife. Our clothing is designed for freedom and quick removal when needed. However, we refuse to appear as drab hens unless by choice.”

  Anne stepped from the pile of silk, her fingers splayed on the wood poster closest to him. She lifted her leg to the edge of the bed. “Will you assist me in removing my shoes and stockings, Demon?”

  His hands shook slightly as he unbuckled her shoe and slid it off her foot. She lowered her foot to the floor and raised her other leg. Once she was completely naked, she gazed at him. “You appear somewhat at a loss. Shall I begin?”

  She didn’t wait for his reply and crawled onto the bed. Her hand flat against his chest, she pushed him onto his back and settled between his thighs. His penis bounced once on his hard belly and then quivered. Her fingers embraced the hardness. A shy smile matched the curiosity in her hazel eyes. “Smooth as satin, firm as steel, a man’s cock is truly a thing to behold.”

  “I would share your pleasure, Gabriel,” she murmured. “Will you allow our minds to fully join?”

  He stiffened beneath her touch. He knew she felt a burst of coldness ripple across the back of her hand. His hesitation clung to the chill and she turned confused eyes to him.

  “I am undead and have done things not shared with anyone,” he said.

  “I am sworn enemy to Satan and his minions. So have I,” she returned. “I only want to learn what pleases you.”

  His silence was an oppressive weight in the bedroom, like an unexpected dirge sounding from the nave of a church. Anne waited patiently for his decision. Her request, and this bond between them, posed an unforeseen problem. He assumed once their bodies satisfied their desires that would be the end of it. To let her into his mind, to see the darkness there, to see the brutality of his vengeance, was something he hadn’t anticipated.

  For most of his life, he refused to put his trust in another supernatural creature, and it had served him well. Now a woman was asking for that carefully guarded part of him? A woman who changed his life with a bond he didn’t want? A woman who was a notorious courtesan one minute, and the mulatto offspring of a plantation owner the next? How could he begin to trust her when he couldn’t be certain who or what she was?

  Laughter slashed into his thoughts and Gabriel jerked as the sound vibrated through his body.

  “Anne Willoughby is no courtesan as you well know. The Tamahaq is also unique in what she is.” A weary sigh preceded the voice’s next words. “For once Raphael wasn’t mistaken. This is all my doing. I have allowed you to wander in ignorance far too long.”

  Gabriel hastily scrambled back against the bed’s bolstered wall when Anne’s body floated past him to settle on the other side of the bed. Her head touched a pillow and she laid as if asleep. “What have you done to her?”

  The tiny balls of light he had created to illuminate the room disappeared into a swirling mass of silver that twisted and turned until the archangel Gabriel stepped from the chaos and strode into the middle of the room. Demon shook his head and frowned at the angel. Angels had notoriously bad timing, and why couldn’t they just use the door?

  “The Tamahaq is unharmed, and why?”

  “Why what?” Demon asked.

  “Why should I adhere to a human’s sense of time or use a door to enter, namesake? I’ve watched human beings for centuries and you are far more impressed by a spectacle than the mundane.”

  Demon gave him a tight-lipped smile. “On occasion spectacle is misplaced and unnecessary.”

  The angel shrugged his indifference. “I’m not here to discuss theatrical entrances and exits.”

  The archangel’s gray eyes swept Anne’s nude body and Demon felt the bite of jealousy. Laughter, sarcastic and belittling, echoed in the bedchamber before the archangel said, “She is your life mate not mine.”

  A chair miraculously appeared near the foot of the bed. The archangel draped his wings over the chair’s back and sat. With an exaggerated sigh of exhaustion, he lifted his hand and a silver goblet appeared clutched in his fingers. He sipped the liquid inside before he said, “You do have a wonderful wine cellar, namesake. Care for a glass?”

  Demon Gabriel shifted until he sat on the edge of his bed. “Will you be staying long?”

  “Just long enough to instill in you fear and respect for your life mate, and me,” the angel stated.


  Demon heard the implicit threat. Even so, he would not bow to others manipulating his life. “A glass of wine is a fitting tribute to your pending departure.” A glass appeared in his hand and he took a drink. “I’m listening.”

  The angel chuckled, the sound, to Gabriel’s ears, unexpectedly free of sardonic humor. “You have always been a challenge. Pay attention as I attempt to rectify your ignorance, and perhaps save you a great deal of frustration. What Anne asks of you is what all life mates share, their minds as well as their souls. It is how they protect each other. It is why the threads join. You cannot refuse her.”

  “Oh, but I can, archangel. I did not enter into this mating of my own free will, and I will not be forced to accept it.”

  “Do you believe that you have committed far worse crimes than Anne?” The archangel laughed hollowly. “When she was ten years of age she killed her first demon and his human pawn. She did it to save her parents yet, in the end, she could not change their destinies. They died when their vessel was destroyed by a demon-spawned hurricane.”

  The archangel’s eyes went to Anne’s inert form. “Once she learned the truth, the Tamahaq has pursued and destroyed Satan’s creatures with a resolve that matches yours. Not even her brother can stop her.”

  “I understood she used her gifts to stop the slave trade,” Demon said.

  “Since the enslavement of people is a tool demons employ to ferret out human born supernaturals, especially witches, she doesn’t see the two missions as contradictory.”

  The archangel rose from his chair. The goblet disappeared and the chair was restored to its natural form, air. “She is bonded to you, Gabriel. You were born to be Anne’s life mate. The decision to share your thoughts rests with you, but be aware your path will be smoother if you choose to accept her without your usual shit.”

  “Did you really say shit?”

  “I did and don’t distract me, namesake. I’d prefer not to interfere but if I must, I will.”

  The glass in Demon’s hand vanished the moment the angel did. The small globes of light reappeared and Demon relaxed his tight muscles. The angel’s warning was destined to fall on deaf ears as far as he was concerned. His life was his to determine. A gentle caress on his back had him turning to look at Anne who was awake.

  “Gabriel or Raphael?”

  He flashed her a wry smile. “You have to ask? My namesake.”

  “I wish I could change things for you,” she offered. “But I can’t. My hands are as shackled by prophecy as yours.”

  She rose to her knees, her hand rubbing his back. “Shall we try this again?”

  Demon laid on his back. When she lowered her head to take his cock between her lips, he placed his hand against her forehead. She looked up at him, puzzled by his action. “How do you know I’m not diseased?”

  “I’m a healer,” she declared smugly. “I examined your body when I undressed you. If you were diseased, I would remove anything that threatens our well-being.”

  Anne’s hands pressed his thighs to create a space. She positioned herself between his legs. “I’ve also studied the nature of demons and their offspring. Undead have self-healing properties. The only reason you’d allow yourself to become diseased is to either experience sickness or you wish to die.”

  Gabriel sucked in air when she did a slow lick along the length of his penis. He’d pursue her knowledge about the undead and supernaturals much later. At the moment all he wanted was the pleasure her mouth was capable of giving. “Tease the underside of my crown.”

  When the tip of her tongue flicked the sensitive flesh, he nearly came off the bed in response to the jolt of desire that shot through him. She toyed with him, a rough stroke here, a light touch there before taking just enough of his cock inside her mouth to give her tongue absolute freedom to drive him into madness. He’d been fellated numerous times, but nothing compared to what his life mate was doing with her mouth. Her tongue moved in ways he hadn’t thought possible, teasing his sensitive skin to the point of blissful agony.

  His self-control danced beyond his reach. Her mouth, for all her innocence, proved more talented than any woman he’d bedded. He had no idea how he found the strength to stave off his ejaculation, but he did. His fingers gripped her shoulders and pushed her away from his cock. His breathing erratic, he forced his body to heed his will.

  Anne’s noisy pout pleased him but he wanted to spend his seed between her thighs not down her throat. He shifted her so she straddled him. When she grasped his intent, her hand moved down his belly to stroke him. She adjusted her body so that his erection pressed against her curls. Lifting her hips, she slowly eased down until the tip of him was just inside her channel.

  Before he could control their movement, she forced her hips down until he was fully embedded in her. Agony shot through him as the biting shards of Anne’s pain pierced his consciousness. His hands went to her hips and held her in place. “Kiss me,” he murmured softly.

  She shook her head and he repeated, his voice harsh, “Kiss me, Anne.”

  Her head tilted until their mouths met, her tears hot on his skin. He traced his tongue along her bottom lip before he nipped it softly. He sucked where he bit, teasing her lips apart. When she gasped, he slid his tongue inside. Demon reveled in the knowledge that he was the first to possess her and no other man would ever drink from this sweet well. As soon as it surfaced in his mind, the feeling irritated the hell out him. He was no lovestruck puppy or a star-eyed Romeo, to wax poetic about the shape-shifting woman in his bed.

  9

  Coitus Completus

  “Do you trust me?”

  “In all things, no,” Anne murmured. “In this, I trust you.”

  Gabriel dragged the tip of his tongue across the wet surface of her mouth. She shivered when he repeated the motion until she relaxed. He began to move inside her, giving her body the time it needed to accommodate his length and thickness. His strokes were unhurried, steady thrusts and retreats. An unexpected heat ignited at the base of her belly and began to spread outward across her skin.

  Her eyelashes drifted downward. She studied the changes taking place inside her. Her nerve endings swayed like windswept dandelions each time Gabriel’s hips rose and fell. With each upward stroke, the fibers rubbed against his penis and the sensation pricked the walls of her vagina. The feeling shocked her, for it was simultaneously pleasurable and aching.

  Her body clenched the base of his erection and slowly replicated his pattern. “That feels wonderful,” she whispered.

  “I’m glad you enjoy the feel of my cock.”

  “I was referring to the kiss, Demon,” she said breathlessly.

  She heard his soft chuckle before he granted her another kiss. It didn’t take long for her to discover she could direct their mating. Her body began to perform a sensuous dance. With each rhythmic rise and fall of her hips, the slick feel of his penis on her sensitive walls wreaked havoc on her efforts to remain distant. Anne shut her eyes against the intense pressure building inside her. It ruffled her skin the way hurricane winds moved through trees, a force so powerful she feared what would happen if she came unmoored.

  Gabriel’s fingers dug into her flesh each time he drove into her. At the edges of her consciousness flashes of color undulated in and out of brightness. She knew them for what they were; their life threads had been set into motion. Her awareness followed the rhythmic blending, separating, and merging that mimicked the movement of their bodies.

  She heard the subtle rasp in his breathing, the soft growls punctuating the air. Suddenly, he reversed them so she was flat on her back, her thighs spread wide. Striking midnight blue eyes stared down at her. “My turn.”

  She gulped air into her lungs when he withdrew then plunged back inside her throbbing sex. Her broken exhalation echoed in the room with each thrust. Then she saw it. The dance of colors had returned. At the edges of her reason, his awareness hovered, sharing her pleasure.

  “Gabriel, what is happeni
ng to me? My body feels unmoored.”

  “Passion,” he groaned. “Don’t fight, allow it to be and you will enjoy it.”

  He slid his hands beneath her hips and raised them. He pushed further into her, seeking deeper penetration, his fingers gliding over to stroke her clitoris.

  “Yes,” she screamed.

  He seemed a man possessed, determined to claim her, to imprint himself on her for all time. Anne knew the noises she made were an erotic spur as the intensity of his thrusts increased. She felt the taut clenching of her inner muscles and her hips met each thrust with desperation. She was captured in a maelstrom rife with an unfathomable need.

  He had given her that pleasurable ache. He was its cause. Her body jerked and twisted as he spiraled even deeper into her wet channel, her inner muscles gripping him like a vise, a tightness that gave both pleasure and pain. Then she succumbed to the sensations that overwhelmed her body and her mind.

  Gabriel plunged and retreated repeatedly into her slick flesh, her liquid drenching his cock. The pattern of colors spun wildly, dancing beyond her control as wave after wave crashed into her. When the last wave crested and her tremors began fade, the walls of her vagina clenched one final time.

  “Anne,” he shouted, his release erupting from his sacs with the force of a cannon shot.

  The shock to her system was breath-snatching. She heard a smothered sound, half moan and half curse, pour from his lips as his seed flowed into her womb, seeking the hidden places to mark her as his.

  His body quaked violently, leaving her unprepared for the mix of anger and raw pleasure that poured from him. As the tremors eased, she felt his heated gaze on her face and lifted her eyelashes.

  “What have you done to me?” His words were more snarl than question.

  “Nothing more than what you’ve done to me, Gabriel Elstone.”

  He lifted himself off her and rolled over onto his back. “I don’t want this bond. Break it.”