Page 44 of Angel Of Darkness

He stood there, hands clenching, naked. Hungry, hot, wanting her.

The roar of water filled the room.

“Keenan?”

He kicked out of the jeans that had locked around his ankles. He put one foot in front of the other and forced his body to walk into that bathroom. She stood next to the shower, and water pumped down in a hard stream.

“It’s ice cold. It should help you.” Her voice was husky, sexy, and her gaze fell to his cock.

Need.

He wasn’t supposed to need her. He’d never wanted another. Never craved. Never wanted to take.

But he wanted to take her more than he wanted another breath.

He stepped into the shower. Like icy needles, the water pelted his body. But the heat didn’t fade. The lust didn’t ease away. And he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Water poured over his shoulders, slid down his chest, and he found his hand lifting toward her.

Her own eyes had begun to slowly darken and fade to black. In that stare, he saw the same raw need and lust he felt.

“Nicole.” Forbidden. This wasn’t the way for angels.

But he wasn’t an angel anymore. If he’d already paid the price for his lust, then shouldn’t he take the pleasure that waited for him?

She stepped closer to the shower. Water sprayed on her and dampened her T-shirt. Then her hands lifted. Not to reach for him, but to yank off that T-shirt.

The heat consumed him. Burning hot, so hot from within, and he ached.

His gaze raked her. Sweet skin. Silky. Smooth. The plain black bra hugged her curving breasts...

In mere moments, the bra hit the floor. So did her boots, her socks, her jeans, and the soft cotton panties.

Steam began to rise in the ice-cold shower—the steam rose from his body.

“You have to cool down,” she murmured.

The sight of her naked body wasn’t going to cool him off. Right then, he didn’t think anything could.

Flat stomach, flaring hips. Legs that were long. Sensual.

She stepped into the shower. Her nipples—dark pink—pebbled at the lash of cold water.

Take. Taste.

He wanted her so badly, but when he looked down, he realized that he’d clenched his hands. The better not to touch.

She shivered at the cold even as she came closer. Her breasts brushed against his chest.

His eyes closed. The touch was agony. A sensual hell.

More.

He wanted her nipples in his mouth. He’d seen humans fuck. Once, he’d thought it looked messy. Hot.

Now he wanted that—the shove of bodies, the pant of breath, and the tight clasp of her sex.

He wanted it all.

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