Eternal Sin (Primal Sin #2) - Ariana Nash Page 0,5

his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Severn turned off the shower and wiped the glass clear.

Samiel.

Real.

Here.

But different.

No, Severn was different…

Samiel handed over a towel as Severn stepped out of the shower. He muttered his thanks and patted himself dry, aware of Samiel’s heated, curious gaze. As Konstantin, Samiel had always been the smaller demon. But now Severn was smaller, his skin peachy white where it should have been obsidian black, his muscles lean instead of broad. With the way Samiel was watching him now, Konstantin would have answered that questioning look by devouring the smaller demon in all the ways. They would have laughed and made love and spent hours, with wings and limbs tangled together.

“It’s remarkable,” Samiel began, gaze dropping suggestively.

“So I’ve heard.” He tried a smile, found it stayed, and saw Samiel’s smile grow. This was… strange. He knew Samiel, but as Konstantin. Looking at him through angel eyes, everything was all at once the same and unfamiliar.

He tucked the towel around his waist, breaking Samiel’s study of his anatomy and drawing the demon’s gaze back to his face.

“You truly fucked a guardian?” Samiel asked.

Severn hid the wince by turning away to examine his reflection in the fogged mirror. He swept a hand across its cold surface, revealing the blue-eyed, blonde-haired angel he’d so thoroughly become.

“What does he taste like?” Samiel’s reflection appeared behind Severn’s. Hot hands claimed Severn’s hips, their warmth seeping through the damp towel. Samiel’s smile turned predatory, as did the gleam in his golden eyes. His gaze fixed with Severn, and slowly, he bowed his head and placed a soft, open-mouthed kiss on Severn’s neck.

Severn let his eyes flutter closed. The gentle touch after so much brutal agony made his skin burn for more. “Like sunshine,” he whispered.

Samiel drew Severn back against him. The hard press of muscle pushed against Severn’s back. Severn’s ass fit snuggly against Samiel’s crotch, the hard press of the demon’s cock difficult to ignore.

Severn opened his eyes and watched Samiel trail kisses over his shoulder, his dark hair contrasting against Severn’s. There was something beautiful in that contrast, something… poetic. Samiel’s hand slid down Severn’s thigh. His fingers spread, claiming, and he pulled Severn tighter against himself.

“I never thought I’d fuck an angel,” Samiel purred.

Severn swallowed hard. Unfortunately, it was the only hard thing about him. Because for all Samiel’s allure, the spark of lust—usually alive and racing through his veins at the first thought of sex—hadn’t ignited. His cock lay limp and uninterested, and within himself, where his incubus soul resided, a yawning hollowness consumed any sexual need.

“Samiel…”

Samiel opened his eyes. They glowed bright and intense with hunger.

“I can’t…”

His brow pinched, but he instantly backed off. And while Severn might not have wanted sex, he still mourned the loss of his ex-lover’s hands. Concubi needed contact. Touch. He’d been without it for so long, and then was drowned in it with Mikhail, only to have it wrenched away and replaced by torture. Right now, he desperately needed Samiel’s softness more than anything else.

Samiel was turning away, silently leaving, shutting down, rejected. And that wasn’t right either. Ten years he’d been without Konstantin. Much must have happened in that time. He’d have had dozens of lovers, he’d have moved on, but had he missed Konstantin?

Severn snagged his hand and reeled him into an awkward embrace. Before, he’d have thrown his wings around the smaller demon and kissed him hard until he groaned and gasped for more. But this time, Severn was forced to rise onto his toes just to brush his lips against Samiel’s. The warm, spicy scent of demon summoned a familiar purr from the back of his throat—a sound all Konstantin’s —and while Samiel resisted at first, at the rumbling purr, he opened and carefully, slowly brushed lips-to-lips, tongue-to-tongue, re-exploring, relearning. Tasting angel. Tasting his enemy.

Samiel withdrew first, licking his lips, eyes sad. “You don’t taste like Konstantin.” He stepped back and let Severn’s hand fall from his. “You don’t look like him.” He swallowed, and his sadness turned darker, more determined. “But you still need to feed, don’t you?”

Severn leaned a hip against the basin, using it to shore him up. “I do.” The chances of him being able to harvest ether off any kind of sexual high were slim. His body wasn’t willing and his mind was fixed far, far away, in a glass city, on an angel who despised him. “I will. But not now.” He’d have to,