Remember Me (Storm Lords Book 1) (2 page)

Phoebe was falling through darkness, hot air rushi
ng past her as she twisted and turned.

Had the rocket hit? She appeared to be heading downward, which was a little worrying, but her mind refused to focus. All she could do was hold tight as she spun out of control.

All awareness of time faded. She could h
ave been falling for minutes, hours, or even lifetimes, but finally, the descent slowed until she was drifting through the warm air. Still downward, but at least she could think again.

Strong arms bound her tight, pressing her face against a rock solid che
st. Wriggling was impossible, and after a moment, she gave up and relaxed. She became aware of other things, the soft
whoosh
of air as though brushed by huge wings, the clean, spicy aroma of the man who held her locked in his embrace.

They landed with a so
ft
thud
. This time when she struggled, he loosened his hold, but now, when she could move, she found she didn’t want to. She wasn’t scared exactly, although something told her that perhaps she should be, but she felt so safe wrapped in his arms. How long h
ad it been since a man held her like this? Not in this lifetime, she was sure. But something felt so familiar, so right.

Maybe the rocket had knocked her out, and she was dreaming.

Either that or she was dead.

No, definitely dreaming.

She pulled free, took
a step back, and blinked. Level with her eyes was a broad, naked chest, the skin pale over the smooth swell of muscles. Phoebe bit her lip and took another step back until she could look up and straight into the wickedly handsome face of Caden Wolfe. She
closed her eyes tight, counted to ten, and peeked through her lashes. What she saw in his face made heat stir to life low down in her belly.

Carnal hunger.

Didn’t you dream about the last thing that you saw before you fell asleep? Obviously, the last thing
she had seen was Caden Wolfe, so it made sense that she’d brought him into her dream. It didn’t mean he was real. None of this was real. At that moment, she became aware of something else, something that definitely proved her point. He had wings.

Blood re
d wings, each a yard in length. While she watched, they swept the air once then folded against his back, so only the tips showed above his broad shoulders.

Caden Wolfe—an angel.

Though thinking about it, what sort of angel had wings the color of blood? And
she’d headed downward—not up—so she was pretty sure she wasn’t in Heaven. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She swallowed and tried again. “Am I dead?”

“No.”

That was reassuring. She peered around her; this place certainly didn’t look like Heav
en, but then it didn’t look like Afghanistan, either. In fact, it was like nowhere she’d ever been. The light was dim as though the sun had just set beyond those glittering black mountains, the sky violet shading to midnight blue. They stood on a black san
dy beach, by a running stream, surrounded by black boulders.

“Where are we?”

“In the Abyss.”

She swallowed again. “Sounds nice. Isn’t that another name for Hell?”

He shrugged but didn’t seem inclined to answer the question. Maybe he thought she would panic
. But why would she panic when it was all a dream? “Mr. Wolfe—”

“Call me Cade.”

“Cade—”

He reached out a hand and stroked her cheek, locking the words in her throat. Her skin tingled under his touch, sending quivers running down her spine. She looked up
into his face to find him gazing at her with such wonder in his dark blue eyes, as though he couldn’t quite believe she was here. She was finding it hard to believe herself.

In real life, she’d never wanted a man to look at her like that. She’d have run a
mile if one had, but this wasn’t real life. She stifled her initial urge to run and stood immobile beneath his touch, while he traced the lines of her face, trailed the pad of one thumb over her sensitive lower lip. A tight knot clenched in her belly, and
the flickering heat burst into flames.

Phoebe said nothing as he drew the scarf back from her face and dropped it to the ground behind her. Her shoulder-length hair was tied back in a ponytail, and he loosened the band and ran his fingers through the stran
ds, then cupped his hands around her skull, tipping her head so she looked up into his eyes.

“Eleni,” he murmured.

She frowned at the strange name, but before she could even think to ask, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. All rational thoughts f
led from her mind. His lips were soft at first, almost reverent as he learned the shape of hers, then they hardened. His hands held her steady while he slanted his mouth over hers and parted her lips.

As his tongue pushed inside her, the knot in her belly
unraveled. A warm wet heat washed through her, saturating the core of her body, and she swayed toward him.

He wasn’t touching her anywhere except for his hands in her hair, his lips on hers, filling her mouth with the slow, languid thrust of his tongue. Sh
e made a low moan of need deep in her throat, and he went still against her. Drawing back, he stared down into her eyes, his expression almost fearful.

“Do you want me?” he asked.

She looked at him then. He still wore the pants he’d been wearing in the com
pound, but his jacket and shirt were gone. Her eyes flickered past the tips of his wings and then quickly back to his naked chest. He was muscular, but sleek and lean, his ridged belly almost concave where it disappeared into his waistband. Beneath that, s
he could see the bulge of his erection pressing against the material of his pants, and her breath caught in her throat.

She tried to remember who he was—Caden Wolfe, CEO of the company she was investigating. The man she was convinced was bribing his way to
government contracts. But he was also the man she’d been fantasizing about for weeks now, ever since she’d seen his photograph.

And did it matter what he was in real life? Here and now, he was just some manifestation of her fantasies. She’d dreamed him up
because he was the most gorgeous guy she had ever encountered and she was a sad, frustrated woman who hadn’t had sex in five years.

And if she was really hovering on the brink of death, didn’t she deserve a little fun first? Even if it wasn’t real.

Or rat
her—especially if it wasn’t real.

He was watching her, his expression tense, as he waited for her answer. Did she want him? “Oh yeah.” She realized she’d spoken out loud, as relief blossomed on his face.

Phoebe didn’t object as his hands gripped the hem of
her tunic and dragged it over her head. His gaze ran over the swell of her breasts in the white cotton bra and her nipples tightened to press against the softness of the material. Hunger and need warred on his face as he reached behind her and unclasped t
he bra, peeled the material away. His eyes feasted on her until her breasts ached to be touched, and her sex throbbed with need.

Finally, when she thought she would scream, his large hand cupped the fullness of one breast. His thumb rubbed the nipple and i
t stiffened, sending jolts of pleasure shooting through her, fires dancing along her nerve endings. Lowering his head, he licked the swollen nub, drew it into his hot mouth, and suckled her while his hands slid down over the sharp indentation of her waist.
They slipped beneath the waistband of her loose pants to stroke the curve of her bottom. He pushed them down together with her panties, and she stepped out of them, kicking off her sandals to stand before him naked.

He went down on his knees, his wings sp
reading to frame him. For a minute, his forehead rested against her stomach, as though in prayer. She laced her fingers into his hair, dark with glints of ruby.

He raised his head. “I have waited so long.”

“You have?”

“But now we are together again.”

“Aga
in?” She was sure they’d never been together before. But her mind couldn’t hold on to the thoughts because he leaned toward her and was scattering moist kisses across her naked breasts, down over her belly. Red hot desire exploded inside her. She would hav
e fallen, but his hands gripped her hips and held her steady as he rose to his feet, still holding her. Then he lowered her to the silky black sand.

Phoebe couldn’t drag her eyes from him as him as he stood over her, legs braced. Couldn’t move as his hands
went to his waist. He flicked open the button on his pants, unzipped them, then tugged them off and tossed them to the ground. A brief glimpse of him showed he was fully aroused, and way beyond impressive, before he sank down beside her. Dragging her into
his arms, he pulled her close against the length of him.

Dream or reality—she wasn’t sure it mattered anymore. Nothing mattered except finishing this. She needed him, needed him deep inside her as though they were one body, and some small part of her mind
filled with terror that she would wake before they completed the act.

A sense of urgency woke inside her and she reached out, curled a hand around his shoulder, and pulled him to her.

***

The blood throbbed in his veins, pulsating in his shaft so his cock
felt as though it was about to explode. His gums ached to feed—he’d never expected that. Would she let him, or would she recoil in horror at what he had become? Last time they were together, he had been an angel. There was nothing angelic left in him now.

The possible implications of what he had done nagged at the back of his mind. He was sure he’d broken the rules of the Covenant by bringing her to the Abyss, but what else could he have done? It had been nearly two thousand years since he’d last held Eleni
, and now that he’d found her, he wasn’t sure he could let her go. Certainly, he couldn’t have stood aside and watched her be blown to pieces by an incoming rocket.

He’d acted without thinking; snatched her up, opened a portal, and here they were.

He tried
to push the doubts away, but he couldn’t dismiss the idea that this might be all he would ever have.

She looked as he remembered; the curves of her hips, the full breasts, the tiny waist. He reached out and stroked his finger down from her collarbone, bet
ween the valley of her breasts, over the gentle swell of her belly, then flattened his palm against the curls at the junction of her thighs. Her hips lifted, pushing against his hand, and she moaned.

For a moment, nothing seemed real. For so long he’d drea
med of this, of finding her, of loving her. Panic flared, beating insistent wings against his ribcage.

Was it real?

The Abyss could do strange things to the mind—even his. He burrowed his face against her
throat, and the familiar scent of her cleared his head of the doubts. Right now, it was enough just to hold her. It felt like coming home.

He was back in heaven where he belonged.

Now, he would show her what they were to each other through his body, and s
he would remember that once she’d loved him more than life itself.

“Please, Cade.”

Her muttered words filled him with a sense of urgency.

Without thinking, his lips drew back, and his fangs sank into the soft skin.

For an instant, she went still beneath hi
m, but he couldn’t stop now with the warm sweetness of her blood flooding his mouth, driving him wild. He came up over her, held himself poised above her, braced on his elbows.

His shaft nudged at the opening to her body, pleasure racing along his nerve en
dings, but as he drew back to fill her, an icy breeze whispered over his skin.

Shit.

***

Phoebe’s surroundings vanished. All she was aware of was the man poised above her, the hardness of his erection pressing into her belly, his mouth at her throat. The s
and was soft beneath her, the wind a gentle caress against her bare skin. She felt as though she was caught in a moment in time, waiting for this man to possess her. She knew she had experienced this before. Cade lying with her like this, but under a brigh
t yellow sun, murmuring words of love in her ear, “Eleni…”