Page 93 of Angel Of Darkness

She came quickly. A hard wave of release that whipped through her. The aftershocks still trembled through her body when he rose up and lifted her. His pants were open now. Oh, he moved fast. He caught her hips, lifted her against the wall, and drove his cock into her.

The pleasure pulsed.

His eyes were on hers as he thrust. Deep, driving thrusts. She licked her lips and clamped her inner muscles around him—the better to feel that slow, slick glide.

Her heart thudded in her chest, her breath heaved, and the tension rose again. Higher, higher, as her body tightened.

Her hands were still on his shoulders, curling fiercely around him, and she leaned forward to swipe her tongue over his throat. Her teeth scraped his neck, not breaking the skin, just?—

He plunged deeper.

Her teeth pierced his throat and the sweet drops of his blood spilled onto her tongue. Her control shattered. Nicole climaxed again, drinking, taking his blood as she gulped that sweetness down greedily. He choked out her name and he drove into her faster. Harder. Even wilder.

This time, the climax wasn’t a snap. Or a pop. It was a full-on eruption that had her whole body trembling as the pleasure lashed her.

He stiffened against her. Nicole’s head lifted. His taste filled her mouth. His eyes—blacker than night—met hers. She felt the jet of his release inside her, the hot splash, and as she watched, she saw the shadow of black wings stretch behind him.

The air seemed to rustle around her as the wings moved. Her gasps filled the air, his fingers still cut into her hips, but as the pleasure faded, she could only stare at those wings.

Then she had to touch them.

Slowly, her right hand eased down his shoulder. Her hand drifted down his back, and her fingertips stretched out.

She felt the lightest, softest silk. Just a whisper. Just?—

Keenan shuddered against her. His head was bent now, and his mouth pressed to her throat. “What are you doing?” Keenan rumbled, then his lips opened wider over her throat. His tongue licked over her skin, and his cock began to thicken. “Feels good.”

It did feel good. Her fingers were tingling. “I’m touching your wings.”

He tore away from her, pulling that thickening cock from her and lowering Nicole until her feet hit the floor.

No. She wanted more of him.

Keenan stared at her with stunned eyes. “What did you say?”

She could still see them—big, dark wings. They seemed to come right from his back. She tried to step forward but her knees were doing a jiggle. “Your wings, I’m touching your wings.”

“I don’t have wings.”

She hadn’t thought so either, but she nodded.

He spun, showing her his back. “They were burned off when I fell.”

She could see the angry red scars on his otherwise perfect back, but she could also see those dark shadows, rising up, covering him like a cloud. “I can see them.”

He whirled back to face her. “No, they’re gone.”

The scent of flowers hit her. Light, sweet. Such a strange smell to mark someone who could destroy her so easily. Nicole grabbed her underwear and jeans and hauled them back up even as Keenan cocked his head to the side and stared hard at the broken front door. A breeze blew into the room, and then?—

Wings. Black wings. Not shadows, but real, honest-to-God wings appeared as the angel approached. Angel. His face seemed carved from stone but made of beauty. He wore a white T-shirt, dark jeans. Strange, she’d expected something less modern. More magical for clothing.

Nicole swallowed. Forget the clothing. I shouldn’t be seeing him. This was wrong. Something was wrong. You didn’t see an angel of death unless you were dying. That was what Keenan had said. “I see your wings,” she told Keenan. “And I see him.”

If she saw an angel of death, that meant her time had come.

Chapter Twelve

As Keenan lunged forward, his arm swept out to make sure that Nicole stayed behind him.

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