Page 93 of The Road to Hell

I blinked, my body still burning, stillaching. “What?”

“I have other plans for you, love,” he said.

His expression grew heated—and then his lips captured mine again, rougher this time. His fingers dug into my waist as he pressed me harder against the railing, and I barely bit back a gasp at the sudden force of it.

Good. That was better.

I let him take, let him push, let myself get lost in it. I skimmed my nails up his sides, his body shuddering under my touch, his hands gripping my hips with a bruising intensity.

His hands roamed lower, fingers tracing the curve of my hips, slipping beneath the waistband of my pants with slow, deliberate intent. He pressed closer, his lips never leaving mine, swallowing the soft sound I made when his hand dipped lower, teasing.

Rathiel wasn’t gentle—he never was, not in moments like this. He was precise, knowing exactly how to unravel me with the smallest movement, the lightest pressure. His fingers skimmed just where I needed them, a barely there touch that sent heat surging through me, my body arching instinctively into him.

“Impatient,” he murmured against my mouth, his lips curving in amusement.

I let out a frustrated breath, my hands fisting in his hair. “You’re the one who’s dragging this out,” I shot back. A shiver ran through me when he finally—finally—pressed his fingers against me properly.

A slow stroke, just enough to send a spike of pleasure curling in my stomach.

“Someone has to keep you on your toes,” he said, his voice full of satisfaction.

I bit my lip, but a sound slipped out as he moved again, his fingers deft and knowing, his other hand gripping my waist to keep me pinned against the railing. My body pulsed with need, with the overwhelming sensation of him.

I clung to him, my fingers digging into his shoulders, my breath coming fast and uneven. “Rathiel?—”

“I know,” he murmured, his lips grazing my jaw, my throat. His fingers moved faster, working me toward that edge, dragging me closer and closer with each precise movement.

I was right there, pleasure coiling tight, ready to snap?—

“Lily.” A voice shattered the moment.

A loud, irritated growl tore from my throat, and I snapped my head toward the sound.

Korrak.

FuckingKorrak.

Rathiel cursed and dropped his forehead onto my shoulder as his fingers stilled, still resting against me. His other hand flexed against my hip like he was trying very, very hard not to murder the hellspawn.

“You havegotto be kidding me,” I muttered, my head resting on his in frustration.

Korrak cleared his throat, completely unbothered by having just walked in on something heabsolutelyshould not have interrupted.

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important,” he said flatly.

“Oh, it better befuckingimportant,” I ground out.

Rathiel finally straightened, his expression a mask of forced neutrality—though I didn’t miss the glint of irritation in his eyes. The loss of his touch sent a frustrated heat flashing through me, but I couldn’t do anything about it.

Rathiel faced Korrak, his tone clipped. “Whatever it is, it can wait.”

Korrak arched a brow. “It really can’t.”

I took a deep, steadying breath, forcing down every violent urge surging through me, and fixed Korrak with a withering glare. “What.”

Korrak crossed his arms. “We’ve got a problem.” His eyes darted between us, unimpressed. “Arealproblem.”

I was going to kill him.

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