The slow, steady rhythm of it was shattering. All I had to do was hold on to him as he moved, and each time he filled me I felt a dancing shimmer of delight wash over my body. There was something devastating about the measured, steady ease of it, no rush to completion, no rules, no judgment, just the thick slide of him inside me, touching places I hadn’t known existed, building toward a climax so powerful I wasn’t sure I could survive.

It would be a good death. He pulled me tighter against him, going deeper, and I cried out as the first climax hit me.

We were both covered with sweat, sliding against each other, and I bit his shoulder, tasting him, tasting the salt-sweat of him, and I wanted faster, harder, but he wouldn’t be rushed, thrusting into me at a steady rate that was going to make me scream, I knew it, he needed to stop, I couldn’t bear any more, I needed him to go faster, harder, I needed more, and I clawed at his back in desperation, reaching for a completion like I’d never known.

He reached behind him and took my arms, slamming them down on the mattress as he rose up, pumping into me. The second climax hit me, and then I couldn’t stop. I needed nothing more than the steady movement of him inside me to bring me to a place I hadn’t believed existed, and I threw myself out into the stars as his hands pressed down on mine and the iridescent darkness closed around us once more.

I could feel him inside me, coming, and I arched back, wanting his mouth on me, wanting his teeth on me. Please, I thought, and I felt his mouth against my neck and the first sharp bite of his teeth.

And I was complete.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I COULD TASTE HER BLOOD ON MY tongue. I touched my mouth, drew my fingers away, and saw the blood on them. I brought my hand back and licked it, the richness of her blood pulsing through me. It had been nothing. The slightest puncture. No veins, not the pulsing artery at the base of her neck that was only allowed for bonded mates. This was barely more than a scrape of my teeth against her soft skin. And it was intoxicating.

I had left her asleep in the middle of the big bed, a small figure wrapped in a down blanket. She looked exhausted, as well she might. I had done my level best to wear her out, and she’d sleep for a long time.

I could see the mark on her neck, the place where I’d bitten her. At least some tiny portion of sanity had remained and I’d managed to pull back. There was a love mark where I’d sucked at her, and the tooth marks were already fading. It had been dangerously close, though. We were already too tied to each other, with breath and now with semen. If I took any more of her blood, there would be no way out.

It had been enough to give me the answers I needed. Uriel could cloud a great many things. He had the harsh powers of a Supreme Being, without the mercy or compassion or any interest in them. But even Uriel couldn’t keep a veil up when she reached her completion and lay cocooned in my wings. And there was no way her blood would be so pure, so rich, so nurturing, if Uriel had touched it. It would have been as bitter as acid.

I should have stopped with the one time. No one in Sheol could deny her right to be here from this point onward. I had claimed her, tasted her. No one else could touch her now. She was my responsibility, nothing more, I reminded myself. Little wonder that I’d lost myself in the sweet welcome of her body.

I’d been celibate too long.

But with my mouth on her neck, breaking through the frail barrier of her flesh, I had almost made an irrevocable mistake. At least I’d managed to pull away before I’d poisoned myself. She’d been reaching for it, not knowing what she sought. Arching her neck against my mouth, offering herself, but it was my fault, my responsibility. And after that first light taste, I was consumed with need.

It was a need I could control. I washed and dressed, then headed out onto the narrow balcony. I could sense where she’d been sitting, and it jarred me.

It was a long terrace—she could have chosen any number of places. Why had she sat in the same spot where I usually stayed, looking out over the ocean, my wings outspread to the night air?

I didn’t think she’d noticed my wings wrapped around her. She’d been too caught up in her climax to realize when my wings unfurled and surrounded us tightly, a protective hood.

It doesn’t always happen. It hadn’t with any of the women I’d used over the last decade or so to relieve my needs. It should have surprised me that it happened this time, but it didn’t. Nothing about Allie Watson surprised me anymore.

My body was still humming with satisfaction and rekindled desire. I could have stayed in that bed, but the closer to her I got, the greater my hunger.

It would be so much easier if I could send her somewhere else to sleep, but that would cause too much gossip. With luck I’d be able to convince the Council that she was no threat, and I could keep my distance, keep the ties between us from growing any stronger. I’d been very careful not to touch her more than strictly necessary in a vain attempt to keep the act impersonal. If I could just shut off this sudden raging need for her, I’d be fine.

Her sleeping mind was a blank to me, and her waking mind was fading with each sex act. If she’d known that, she probably would have jumped me earlier. Between bonded mates, the mental link lessened and evened out between the two. It was easy enough to read human sex partners, but after multiple couplings that ability lessened, probably from lack of use. The women I’d slept with were straightforward and simple to read, just as Allie had been in the beginning. I’d known perfectly well that she wanted me, or at least thought she did. But I’d also known she was uncertain about something as simple and logical as sex, despite her experience. And that she didn’t like her body, which amazed me, since I thought she was close to perfection. Her body had distracted me from the very beginning, the sheer lushness of her curves, the delicious softness of her thighs, the high, round butt. I’d done very well not thinking about it, skittering out of her mind whenever she allowed herself to fantasize.

I’d been too caught up in my own reactions during sex to see hers, beyond her blind pleasure. For me the sex had been disastrous—so much worse than I’d expected, because I’d been shaken by it, so overwhelmed by the power of it that I’d had to repeat it immediately. The wiser thing to do would have been to walk away from her. Instead I’d thought I’d tend to her, be gentle and distant, and within moments I’d been inside her again, lost in her.

With luck, she’d be disappointed. I’d heard and seen her fantasies—no one could live up to that. With luck, my ability to read her would have faded enough that I wouldn’t see anything that might . . . precipitate something. Touching her again would be very unwise.

Now, if only my cursed body understood that.

IT WAS EARLY AFTERNOON WHEN I finally awoke, alone. I knew he wasn’t in the apartment, though I wasn’t sure how. I could drag myself out of bed and into the shower without running into him. It was a small blessing, but I’d take it.