Her Dark Angel (12 page)

When it became too much, he pushed her back so she released him and knelt in front of her. He kissed her again and leaned into her, forcing her to lie down and covering her with his body. She moaned softly into his mouth and then rolled with him, so she was on top, and straddled his hips.

He groaned and ran his hands up her thighs. She looked beautiful sitting on him, confidence sparkling in her eyes, her body bare and open to him.

Serenity smiled and traced patterns on his chest with her fingertips, teasing his nipples. She ran them down towards his hips, drawing his attention there. Her warm heat covered his cock, trapping it between their bodies. He rubbed against her, thrusting slowly, enjoying the feel of her astride him. Her eyes slipped shut and she leaned her head back. She moaned and it was too much. He had to be inside her again when she did that, wanted her to ride him just as he had been aching for her to in the exotic club.

Her fingertips grazed the lines of his hips, ran around his navel and then up the valley between his abdominals. His gaze remained fixed on her face, absorbing the way she watched her fingers with hungry eyes. She splayed her hands out and swept them over his chest, her teeth tugging her lower lip at the same time, and then leaned over him.

Apollyon closed his eyes when her bare breasts brushed his stomach and slid his hands down her sides to her bottom. She ran her fingers into his long dark hair and brought her elbows to rest either side of his head. Her warm mouth found his, tongue sliding between his lips, and he moaned as she kissed him. It was slow and sweet, calming his urge to be inside her. When she kissed him like this, he could wait forever. It stole his attention and his heart.

He frowned when she moved away, kissing down his jaw and then his neck, over his chest. Her tongue swirled around his left nipple and then she sat back on him again, running her fingers over his body, her gaze following them.

She smiled wickedly and wriggled, tearing a groan from his throat as her warm heat enveloped his cock again. He had to be inside her now.

Taking hold of her hips, he raised her. His erection sprang up, hard and eager, and he positioned it beneath her. He moaned when she sank down onto his length, easing back onto it, drawing it out. An exquisite torture. He held his hips steady, resisting the temptation to thrust himself deep into her welcoming body.

When he was all the way in, she wriggled on him, tearing another low groan from his throat, and then raised herself again.

Apollyon grasped her hips, guiding her on his cock and helping her as she slowly sank back onto him and rose again. He thrust up into her as she came down again, meeting her halfway, and steadily built the pace between them, until she was moaning with him each time their bodies met, his hard aching cock delving deep into her hot core.

He kept his eyes locked on her, raising her up and bringing her down, watching the myriad of emotions that crossed her face each time. She gasped when he plunged into her, moaned when he withdrew, her lips parted in ecstasy and her breasts bouncing. She was divine and Edward was wrong about him. He would never tire of her. He would never leave her.

No matter how she felt about him, he knew that he was falling for her, and he had been for a long time.

Her eyes met his and the world fell away. He lost track of their movements until he was just looking into her eyes and feeling everything that she was, filled with the way it felt to be as one with her, inside her, together. It awed him. Her beauty and how it felt to be with her awed him. Not just like this either. He had made her happy and eased her suffering, but she had done the same for him too. He was happy again at last, content and no longer alone, and he knew that she would never leave him.

He could feel her love pounding through her veins and through him, could sense the affection she held for him and that she wanted this to go on forever too. It was more than just being intimate with him, more than just lust. It was about being one with him, and sharing their love. He loved her.

And she loved him.

Her heart beat with his, her hands pressing into his stomach as she moved on him, taking him deep into her body, joining them as one. She was beautiful.

The stars behind her brightened, until they shone through the veil of light from the city, and twinkled. He sensed her power rising, calling to his own, entwining with it just as their bodies were. The night became a beautiful backdrop for Serenity as she rode him, her eyes still locked with his. He took hold of her hands and pressed his palms to hers. The magic flowed into him, warming his fingers, and he let his power join with it.

A shooting star arced across the night sky above her, quickly followed by another.

She was making the night as beautiful as it should be—magical.

Apollyon stared deep into her hazel eyes. Under her spell. Forever and always.

Whether she knew it or not, she had cast a spell on him and he was powerless to break it. He didn’t want to anyway. He wanted to be under her command when they were like this and just in life too. He wanted to be there to protect her, to make her smile, to give her happiness and everything that his angel deserved.

She writhed on him, taking him higher until he was in Heaven and flying with her.

Serenity leaned forwards, so her long blonde waves curled around her breasts, hiding them from his hungry eyes. Her hands left his and she planted them against his chest. He took hold of her hips, raised her almost all the way off his cock and plunged into her again, bringing her down harder now. She cried out and dug her fingernails into his chest. He did it again, and again, pushing her higher, until he felt her body tensing. He wanted to be one with her completely, wanted to fall into bliss with her and hold her close until they had both come down. He moved her again, bringing her down onto his cock, and she flung her head back and shouted his name, her body convulsing around his.

Apollyon didn’t stop. He moved her on his cock, delving deeper into her, his body tightening with each long thrust, bringing him closer to the edge. He closed his eyes, groaning each time he buried himself in her and her body clenched him, quivering against him, luring him towards bliss. He wanted it. With a deep, growling groan, he quickened his pace until it bordered on frantic, searching for release, his whole body coiled tight and ready to explode.

“Apollyon,” Serenity moaned and tensed her body around his, tipping him over the edge.

He plunged hard into her and came, his thrusts slowing until he was barely moving, his whole body shaking from his orgasm and the hazy bliss that ran through his veins.

Serenity collapsed onto him, breathing fast, her heart thundering against his. He wrapped his arms around her and held her, and smiled when a blanket appeared and covered them. It wasn’t his doing. It was his witch’s.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, savouring the feeling of her in his arms and her body against his.

Bliss.

Serenity raised herself, her hands on his shoulders, and kissed him. He lazily returned the kiss, lost in her and thoughts of their future. He would fly with her every night like this, would sleep with her tucked safely in his arms, and would watch over her so she was never alone. He would be with her forever, just as she had commanded him to be, and he would never let her go. He would do anything to make her smile, no matter how foolish it made him look or how silly her request.

For once in long millennia, he was happy and he wasn’t alone.

His mission had changed the moment he had met her. He had changed and his allegiance was to her now, his new master. And what a divine creature she was.

Apollyon kissed her, slowing the tempo until they were drawing each one out, and held her close to him. He had waited for the call, for a new mission, for many long centuries and when it had finally come, it had given him more than just a task to fulfil. It had given him Serenity.

His little witch.

His goddess.

And he would worship her forever.

The End

L
ukas was looking worse for wear.

Annelie had never seen him drink alcohol. She had often wondered why he came to her pub but stuck to soft drinks. Seeing him slowly sliding down towards the bar, his head propped up on his hand and his eyes closed, she was no longer surprised that he lay off the booze. He couldn’t handle it.

His scruffy sandy locks fell forwards when his head slipped from his hand and he jerked up. He rolled his eyes a few times while blinking and then pulled a face as he inspected the damp elbow of his black shirt and the wet bar where he had been leaning. A sigh lifted his shoulders and he stared at the half-full glass of whisky in front of him. Perhaps she should have cut him off after his third, but his charming smile had persuaded her to supply him with a fourth, and a fifth. She regretted it now. At the time, he had looked as though he would be fine. Now, he looked as though he was going to pass out.

Perhaps she shouldn’t have given him the first shot. What if he didn’t drink because he was an alcoholic and she had just ruined his recovery? She could never live with herself if that was the case.

She handed some change to a patron and walked along the length of the area behind the dark wooden bar to Lukas, neatening her appearance as she did so. She tugged the hem of her black baby-doll t-shirt down to sit smoothly along the waist of her black jeans, and combed her fingers through her long red hair. She always felt as though she looked like a mess when things got frantic behind the bar, and she wanted to look her best for Lukas.

The pub was quieter now that it was approaching closing time. A few regulars remained along with a group of people she didn’t recognise who were sitting in the corner near the bay windows. She could finally speak to Lukas without interruption.

Annelie leaned on the damp bar opposite Lukas and swept his fair hair out of his eyes. He leaned away, almost fell off his stool, clutched the brass rail around the bar to stop himself, and then looked at her. She felt an all too familiar jolt when his green eyes met her brown ones and her heart fluttered in her chest when he smiled lopsidedly.

“You okay?” She went to take her hand away but he took hold of it, bringing it down to the bar and toying with her fingers.

His gaze fell there, a look of fascination entering his eyes, and she told herself not to read into it.

So what if this was the first bordering-on-intimate contact they’d had? So what if he had made her heart stop the moment he had first walked into her pub three years ago and it had stopped every time she had seen him since? It didn’t mean anything.

At least, it didn’t mean anything to him.

Sure, they had talked and whiled away the hours, and Lukas was an amazing listener and always seemed genuinely interested in her problems and helping her solve them, but he had never once shown any interest in her beyond friendship.

She wished that he would.

He was drop dead gorgeous. Six feet plus of masculine beauty. And she wanted to pounce on him whenever he walked through the door.

Which had been almost every other night until recently.

He had gone away for three long weeks without a word, leaving her wondering if something terrible had happened to him. Then the moment he walked back into her life, he hit the drink. Hard.

Lukas didn’t answer her. His green gaze remained fixed on her hand and he turned it this way and that, his large hands warm and gentle against hers. Her heart whispered that this was interest beyond friendship.

Someone stepped up to the bar at the far end and she waved to Andy to serve him. She couldn’t leave Lukas until she knew what was going on in his head and why he was suddenly drinking, or at least until she was sure he wasn’t about to fall off his stool and hurt himself.

Annelie bent lower so she could see his face. His gaze finally left her hand and met hers again, bright in the lights from the mirrored cabinet of bottles behind her.

“I said you okay?” She searched his eyes.

His pupils were wide. He raked his gaze down over her chest, fire following in its wake, and then back up to her face. It remained fixed there, as though he was studying her, intense and focused. A blush crept onto her cheeks.

“Hell of a week.” His reply was so quiet that she barely heard him.

“You’ve been gone three.”

His eyebrows rose. “Three?”

Annelie nodded. Lukas released her hand and ran his over the messy finger-length strands of his hair, preening it back. He brought his hand down, pinched the bridge of his nose and screwed his eyes shut.

“Hell of a three weeks.” Lukas smiled but she saw straight through it.

Something was up. Andy tried to call her over but she waved him away again. Andy had been tending bar long enough to handle problems on his own now. Lukas needed to talk. She had seen it the moment he had sat down tonight, but the pub had been so busy that she hadn’t been able to talk to him other than taking his order. He had never really spoken much about himself and the one time he needed to she hadn’t made time for him. He had always made time to listen to her. What sort of friend was she?

“I was wondering where you were.” Her tone was jest but her heart meant the words.

Lukas looked at her as though hearing that had made his day and then dropped his gaze to his drink. He ran his finger around the rim of the whisky glass and then sighed.

“Sorry about that.”

She never had been able to place his accent. It wasn’t British. She had asked him about it once and he had simply said that he had lived in many places. She had told him her whole life story and he hadn’t even told her where he was from. She was fine with that though. It added a sense of mystery to him that she liked.

He picked up his glass and she took it from him.

“I think you’ve had enough of that.” She tipped the contents away behind the bar and stashed the glass there. “How are you getting home tonight?”