Angel of Darkness (The Fallen 1)

“Don’t worry,” she told him, her voice pure sin, “I won’t bite you … I’m in control.”

He wasn’t. And as for biting, “I will.” Then he began to lick his way down her stomach as he explored every inch of her flesh. He couldn’t touch her enough. Couldn’t taste her enough. And, yes, he had to bite. Had to nip the flesh because he liked the way she gasped his name when she felt the edge of his teeth. Not enough pressure to hurt, not for her, just enough to make the need mount.

He pushed her legs apart more and settled between them. His heart was heavy in his chest, his muscles tense and his flesh was so aroused and swollen he felt like he’d explode at any minute.

His fingers shook when he touched her. She gasped, and he looked up, his gaze shooting to her face. But no pain was there, only pleasure.

He touched her again, letting his finger stroke her flesh, learning the hidden curves, and finding the spots that made her moan and arch.

He leaned in even closer because there was more he needed to know.

How does she taste?

“Keenan.” Her nails dug into shoulders. “I need …”

“I need to taste you.” He’d never thought to have her like this. Fantasies were one thing, reality another. But now that he had her, spread beneath him, open, ready, he wasn’t going to back away.

One taste.

Would one be enough?

His lips skimmed over her sex. His tongue licked.

Not even close to enough.

A hungry growl burst from his lips as his hands clamped down tighter on her hips. He opened her more, tasting, licking, savoring every inch of her hot core.

Her moans were in his ears, her claws digging into his shoulders, and her hips pushing closer to him.

He heard her call his name. He heard the broken rasp of her breaths, but he wasn’t done.

Her body tensed, and he looked up just in time to see the blind pleasure flow across her face—and he pressed his mouth harder to her and savored the taste of her release as she came.

Then he slowly climbed back up her body. Her breath heaved, and her hands reached for him. He kissed her. Keenan drove his tongue into her mouth and let that wild hunger build and build.

He wanted to plunge into her body. To take and take and let the release rip through him.

Forbidden.

Like he gave a damn about the rules anymore. Those rules were for angels, and he didn’t have a chance of ever flying again, not with his wings burned off.

Take.

He couldn’t fly, but he could have her. He would have her.

Then the scent reached him. The light, almost sweet scent of flowers in the air.

The scent that always came when an angel was near.

He tore his mouth from hers and spun around. His hand automatically went to the thin sheet, and he yanked it over her body. “Get out of here!” He thundered.

“What?” Nicole demanded. “After what we just—you want me to leave?”

He grabbed her wrist and chained her to him. “Not you.” His gaze swept the room. His nose followed that scent. His eyes narrowed as he focused his stare on the far corner. “You into watching now?” A dark taunt directed at the one waiting.

“Uh, Keenan?” Worry had entered Nicole’s voice. “No one else is here.”

“He’s here.” Keenan rose from the bed and didn’t bother to cover his body. Angels weren’t supposed to care about nudity. And he didn’t care about his—just hers. “Unless he’s here to kill me, then he needs to drag his winged ass out of here.”

He felt the wind whisper against his face. Angel power. “Can’t you smell him?” He asked her because a vamp’s enhanced senses should at least be able to pick up that light scent. Most humans—those who stopped to pay attention—caught the telltale fragrance.

The sheets rustled. “I … yes.”

Keenan glanced back at her.

Her gaze was wide, her lips open. “I know that smell. In the alley, when that vampire attacked me …” She jumped from the bed and clutched the sheet tightly to her. “I smelled it then.” Now it was her turn to sweep the room with her gaze. “There was so much blood, I couldn’t figure out why I just … smelled flowers.”

Because an angel had been near.

“Is he the one who was there?” The worry was gone from her voice. Only fury remained. “This jerk in here—is he the one who stood there and watched while that vamp attacked me?”

Another whisper of wind blew on his face. Then the floral scent began to fade as the angel vanished. What had been the purpose of that visit?

A threat?

He didn’t take so well to those angelic threats anymore.

“He’s leaving,” Nicole whispered. She grabbed Keenan’s arm. “I can tell. The scent is almost gone.” She turned and her gaze tracked all around the room. “Why can’t I see him?”

“Because you’re not dead.” He exhaled slowly. Time for more truth. “You can only see an angel when you’re dying—in those last few seconds before death.”

Her lips curved down. “Haven’t you heard? I am dead.”

“No, you’re undead. There’s a difference.” She’d died only for a few seconds. Not long enough for her soul to leave. Just long enough for her body to change when the virus got inside her.

That’s what vampirism really was. A virus. One that—if it wasn’t monitored—could be passed along until the whole human race died out. Died out—or transformed.

He rolled his shoulders and forced himself to meet her eyes. “He’s gone.”

“He?” Her brows rose. “Could you see him?” She pressed.

No lies. “I saw enough.”

“Was he the one that was there that night?” Her delicate jaw locked. “Was he the bastard that just stood there while the vamp tried to kill me?”

“No.” One of the things about angels—fallen or those still in grace—they could never lie. He exhaled. “That bastard… well, that would have been me.”

CHAPTER SIX

“What?” Her voice had gone flat and cold, just like her eyes.

And her teeth were getting longer and sharper. When the fangs came out, trouble was calling.

But it was time to reveal this to her. After what he’d done tonight, she deserved to know. “I was the angel there that night. I was the one you sensed.”

“You?” Her knuckles whitened around the sheet. “You saw what he did—”