Her Avenging Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 7) (21 page)

She cocked her head at that one.

“It means I should just hand you over to them. It’s what they want and it is not going to happen. You have to stay here with the others. They will protect you.”

She shook her head. “There has to be another way. What if we tell the others about your plan and see what they have to say?”

Nevar considered that. There was a chance that Asmodeus or Apollyon might know of a better way to find out what the future held for them. He needed to speak with everyone anyway and tell them what Lysia had told him.

She had been in mortal form before her last awakening, enjoying the world. It had been a war between angels and demons that had awoken her as the destroyer. Heaven and Hell were still messing with the world. He had always imagined that the Great Destroyer would rise in response to a war between men, roused by the violence and bloodshed, or had been ordered to bring about the apocalypse by her master. He hadn’t even contemplated that it would happen as a result of angels and demons battling in the mortal realm.

He shouldn’t have been surprised though.

Now that he knew what had happened to her, he couldn’t help thinking how typical it was of the two realms to war between themselves, uncaring of how it affected the mortal realm. It had only been Lysia awakening as the Great Destroyer and threatening to end their realms too that had brought them together to stop her, ending their own war.

It was the same now.

When they had discovered that his actions had awakened her from her slumber, both Heaven and Hell had pledged their angels to the cause of containing her. They wanted to send her back to sleep.

Both sides were probably coming up with a plan to do just that right now.

Nevar wouldn’t let it happen.

In her current form, Lysia wasn’t a threat to anyone, just as she hadn’t been a threat to the world the last time she had been free in it either. Something had triggered a change in her, one that had set her on the path of war against the angels and demons, and mankind.

He just needed to find out what that trigger had been, or what it would be this time.

But she was right and rushing to Heaven was a suicide mission, one that had been tempting at the time he had thought of it but was now looking less appealing. He had fought angels in Heaven before and barely survived, thanks to his darker side emerging and gifting him with its strength. He had been stronger at the time too, not weakened by addiction and hunger. He was in no position to head to Heaven right now, when they were on high alert. Lysander and the other angels would have informed their superiors of what had happened here on the island and what they had discovered. The fortress of Heaven would have immediately issued orders to protect the walls and all points of entry. Flying into it now would mean flying through legions of angels.

There had to be another way.

He just didn’t know what that way was.

He could risk taking her to Hell and attempting to see the past in the pool there, but that route would also mean a battle. Heaven controlled the pool and it was often protected by angels from the division of death. If Heaven and Hell were working together, there was a chance both angels and Hell’s angels would be protecting it now, aware that he would want to view it.

He growled and shoved his fingers through his white hair.

There had to be a way. He had to see the future if he was going to save Lysia.

He looked down into her beautiful hazel eyes. He had to save her.

She was the one good thing in his dark world. She had brought light into it.

She had stayed with him when he had tried to push her away.

She had continued to look at him with warmth when he had told her the weight of his sins.

She was becoming everything to him—his reason to fight, his balance, and his hope.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he was looking forwards, towards a future that now felt brighter than his past, and he knew it was because he wanted a future with her.

She placed her palms against his cheeks and looked deep into his eyes, hers filled with affection and tenderness that had his heart beating a little quicker. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had looked at him in the way she did, as if he was the centre of her universe and it would mean nothing without him in it.

He felt sure he was looking at her the same way too and he was thankful there was no one around to witness this side of him. If Asmodeus or the others saw him looking at her like a lovesick fool, he wouldn’t hear the end of it. They would mercilessly tease him. He had witnessed them do the same thing to Asmodeus. He didn’t think he could play it cool and keep his head on straight as his master had.

“We should speak with the others,” he whispered, not really wanting to do that but feeling it was the right thing to say.

The sense of urgency he had felt was fading by the second though, drifting away on the warm breeze that played with the ends of Lysia’s black hair.

She tiptoed, bringing her mouth close to his, and his mind said to push her away and not let her kiss him again, because he didn’t understand how she could still want to do such a thing after everything he had told her. His hands tensed against her hips and she faltered, pausing just inches from his lips.

Her hazel eyes darted between his.

“I feel you,” she said in a low voice, one edged with a teasing note. “Don’t hold me at arm’s length when you really want to pull me closer. Don’t let what you think you should do stand in the way of what you want to do. I’m here, Nevar… I heard everything you said and know what you did, and I know you want to push me away because you think you’re protecting me from you, but it isn’t what I want.”

He swallowed hard and pressed his fingertips into her soft skin, his heart thundering against his ribs. “What do you want?”

She smiled and stole his breath with it. “I want you.”

Nevar tugged her against him, dipped his head and captured her lips in an unhurried kiss that he felt sure would reveal the feelings growing inside his heart, emotions he hadn’t believed himself capable of feeling anymore. He gathered her in his arms, cupped her backside and raised her up his body, his lips never leaving hers.

She moaned softly into his mouth and wrapped her legs around his waist, and her arms around his neck. Her fingers pushed into the shorter hair at the back of his head, twined around the longer lengths on top, and pinned him to her. He groaned and deepened the kiss, showing her without words that he wasn’t going to pull away this time.

He needed this too much.

He wanted to take everything she was willing to give him and drown in her, forgetting the world and the things he had done, and whatever might lay ahead for them.

All that mattered was this moment with her in his arms, held close to him where she belonged.

She broke away from his lips and kissed along his jaw, her fingers tugging his head back. He went willingly, a deeper groan escaping him when she tongued the marks she had placed on his throat, making them tingle and his cock throb. He wanted to feel it again but he wasn’t strong enough to feed her, not when he was still starving himself. The need to have her fangs in him and that incredible connection it forged between them, strengthening their bond, was strong though and drove him to find someone to feed on so he could then feed her.

He shut out that dangerous thought and focused on her instead, on each soft swirl and swipe of her tongue across his flesh.

He palmed her bottom and she tightened her legs around him, drawing his steel hard length against the apex of her thighs and pressing it between them. A little gasp escaped her and she rocked against him, rubbing him through his shorts. He couldn’t take that.

He carried her towards the shelter of the palms and the shade there, afraid she would lose her control over the clouds and they would dissipate. He wanted nothing to spoil this moment. He wanted to show Lysia that he could be gentle for her and could be the tender lover and devoted male she deserved.

When he reached the fringe of the forest, he kneeled and laid her down on the soft white sand, and sat back to admire her.

She stretched her arms out to him, her hazel eyes imploring him to come to her, and he refused, instead running his hands over her bare legs, from her knees down to her thighs. They fell open, inviting and luring him, and he frowned and groaned as he caressed the inside of her thighs, feeling their softness against his calloused fingers.

“Nevar,” she whispered and he sensed her desperation, the urgency that she still hadn’t become accustomed to or knew how to handle.

He leaned over her, pressing his knuckles into the sand on either side of her hips, and dropped his mouth to her bare stomach.

She half-gasped half-moaned as his lips brushed across her pale skin, her stomach tensing and rippling beneath his questing mouth. He closed his eyes and explored her, seeking out every patch of skin that made her shiver and moan. She arched against him when he swirled his tongue around the sensual dip of her navel and clutched his head, twisting his hair in her fingers and raising her backside off the sand.

He produced a blanket between her and the sand, a soft span of black velvet fit for his beautiful destroyer.

Before she could sink back onto it, he moved his hands to her backside and held it, a low growl leaving him at the feel of her tiny shorts. He would have to have words with Erin about their length and how revealing they were. He felt certain that his ward had done it on purpose, teasing and testing him where Lysia was concerned. She was playing matchmaker and he didn’t appreciate it.

Lysia relaxed into his hands as he kissed down her stomach and slowly shifted his grip, so he clutched her hips. He reached the waist of her shorts and lowered her backside onto the blanket before sliding the button free and gently tugging the zipper down.

Her gaze bore into him, intent and focused, her heart beating wildly in his sensitive ears.

Her hands trembled in his hair.

She had no reason to be nervous but he wasn’t going to let the trickle of fear flowing through their bond deter him. He wanted everything to be different with her and he wanted all of her, and that meant introducing her to wicked new acts that he was sure she would enjoy once she overcame her initial fear.

He sat up and held her gaze as he tugged her shorts down her long slender legs. She placed her bare feet on his thighs and raised her bottom to help him with his task. He groaned and couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting down the luscious plane of her stomach to the neat thatch of dark hair at the apex of her thighs.

Another groan escaped him, this one more of a guttural growl as he thought about spreading her thighs and delving his tongue between her sweet folds.

His cock jerked against his shorts.

He grunted and tossed her tiny shorts, eased her thighs apart and wedged his shoulders between them.

She tensed, her legs locking against his shoulders.

“Relax,” he murmured and looked up the length of her as he kissed his way down her right thigh, heading towards heaven.

Her throat worked on a hard swallow and her eyes grew darker as he approached his target, desire and arousal overwhelming her fear.

He held her gaze as he slowly parted her petals and delved his tongue between them, sweeping it over her nub. She gasped and threw her head back, her following moan like music to his ears. He stroked her again, harder this time, eliciting an equally addictive response. She jerked her hips up, pressing herself against his mouth.

Nevar growled at the taste of her, sweet and drugging, everything he had expected from his new addiction. He couldn’t get enough of her.

He flicked his tongue around her and then swirled it, using her moans and the way her thighs fluttered beneath his hands as his guide. When he delved lower, probing her entrance, she snatched hold of his head with one hand and cried his name. He did it again and again, thrusting his tongue inside her and lapping at her honey, devouring all of her and driving her right to the edge before he pulled back. She growled.

Nevar smiled as she blushed.

“Growl all you want, Baby,” he murmured and her blush darkened. “I love it.”

He dropped his mouth back to his wicked work and stroked his tongue over her pert nub, feeling it pulse in response. She moaned and undulated her hips, rocking against his tongue, and he gave her what she wanted. He circled her entrance with two fingers and then gently eased them inside. Her heat scalded him, the wetness of her tearing a low possessive growl from him and making his length kick in his shorts. He wanted to be inside her and feel her around him again, milking him.

Nevar forced himself to focus on her instead and slowly pumped her with his fingers as he swirled his tongue around her, teasing her back towards the edge, letting her think he would give her release this time. He was too greedy to do such a thing, too needful of her and selfish. He wanted to feel her climax on him again.

“Nevar,” she moaned, her body stiffening, and he relented again. She growled and tried to thrust his fingers into her, and he took them away. The snarl that left her lips drew a smile from him and he lifted his head, looking up the beautiful length of her body and meeting her eyes.

She swayed her hips beneath him, rubbing her thighs against his shoulders, and smiled, a siren’s call that he couldn’t resist.

He pushed himself up onto all fours and crawled up the length of her.

When he went to kiss her, she stopped him dead by fumbling with the buttons of his shorts. She had three free before he could even look down and he was in her hand before he had a chance to steel himself for her touch.

He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as she palmed him, stroking up and down his length, and then rubbed her thumb over the sensitive head.

“Lysia,” he whispered, more a warning than a plea for more. He wouldn’t last if she kept stroking him like that, pushing him towards the edge just as he had pushed her.

He cracked his eyes open and grabbed her wrist to stop her.