When he didn't answer, she decided to do some exploring of her own. Moving one hand, she stroked firmly along the top edge of his right wing. He went tense against her, the waiting kind of tense, the kind that told her she'd either done something very good or something very bad. Since he was still pulsing hot and hard under her, she decided to go for good and repeated the act. This time, he shuddered.
"They're sexually sensitive?" Eyes narrowed, she thrust a hand into his hair and tugged him up from her neck. "The Bitch Queen was brushing her wings against yours."
He let her hold him, though they both knew he could've broken free in a second. "Only in certain situations." One long finger traced circles around her nipples.
She slapped at his hand. "I'm not buying."
He moved his finger to the dip of her elbow, making her shiver. "Is this sensitive in normal situations?"
"Hmph." But she let go of his hair, let him kiss her properly.
When they came up for air, he said, "They're sensitive, yes. But sexual only in a sexual context-which seems to be always with you."
"Guess a thousand years plus teaches a lot about charm," she said against his lips. Perfect lips. Lips she could nibble on for hours. "You've got all sorts of slick going on."
"For a warrior perhaps."
She was too interested in kissing him to answer right away, her entire body focused on his, her skin so sensitive she thought she might explode. "In the bath?"
He shook his head. "I want to see you in my bed."
"Another fallen hunter," she murmured. "Where's the soap?"
He reached along the rim and picked up a near-transparent bar. As he lathered up his hands and began to stroke them over her shoulders, a clean bright scent that echoed his own-water, wind, forest-rose up around her. "Do many fall?" he asked, running his hands down to soap the exposed parts of her breasts.
It made her lower body tighten another notch. "Vampires are sexy," she teased. "Angels are usually too snooty to bother with humans. I figured you lot were too evolved to enjoy getting down and dirty."
He looked up through lashes dark with wet, soapy hands sliding below the waterline to do things to her that were surely illegal. "Then you'll be getting an education tonight."
She moved on his fingers, inciting him to do more. "Yes, please."
The archangel handed over the soap, but kept his other hand where it was, stroking her with patience most men wouldn't learn if they lived to be ten thousand years old. "Come, hunter, it's your turn to educate me."
"Lesson one"-a breathy statement-"always give the hunter what she wants." Holding his gaze as he drove her to an inevitable crescendo, she lathered up her hands, and began to explore that body of his. Muscle and sinew and strength, he was delicious in every single way. "Oh!" Dropping the soap, she clutched at his shoulders with slippery hands as he pinched her clitoris, threatening to throw her over the edge into orgasm. "Stop that," she whispered, and he obeyed . . . only to slide two fingers deep into her.
"Let go," he said, kissing the taut line of her neck. "Let go."
Let go? During sex? She never had, not since the first time. In her innocence, she'd held on so tight, she'd broken her lover's collarbone. But Raphael wasn't human-he wouldn't break, wouldn't call her a freak. And then raw pleasure made the decision for her. The archangel took her lips in a savage kiss, a duel of tongue and lips, even as his fingers jackhammered into her in hard, fast thrusts. She came in an exquisite burst, her body clenching so tight it almost hurt.
In the aftermath, she was aware of Raphael finishing off the soaping. When he told her to lean back and rinse out her hair, she did so with a dreamy smile. She could get used to this, she thought, refusing to think of the future. Because the truth was, her life span was unlikely to be anything close to an ordinary human's. Hunters lived dangerous lives to begin with. And she was tracking a deranged archangel.
"Up."
She rose, kissing Raphael as he followed. A flicker of surprise lit his eyes. "How long can I look forward to such easy compliance?"
"Wait and see." She let him lead her to the shower, where he rinsed off the last bubbles of soap before grabbing a huge sky blue towel. She took it from him and dried herself, wanting to watch him as he did the same with efficient movements that told her he had no idea of what it did to her to watch him. That intrigued her.
Raphael clearly knew how beautiful he was, how he affected mortals. But seeing him like this, she realized that beneath the arrogance was a lack of vanity-it made sense when she thought about it. Strip away the layers of civilization, and he was, at the core, a warrior, his looks simply another tool in his arsenal.
Without warning, he snapped out his wings, showering her in millions of fine droplets. "Hey!" But she was already wrapping the towel around herself and reaching for another with which to pat his wings dry.
He watched her approach. "They'll dry on their own."
"But will it be as much fun?" She glanced meaningfully at his erection, sliding the soft material over his wings with extreme care.
"Hurry up, Elena." That cobalt lightning had returned. "I'm ready to fuck you into oblivion."
Oh, dear God. Dropping the towel, she pulled down his head and kissed the hell out of him. He liked it if his reaction was any indication. Pushing away the towel that clothed her, he lifted her up until she was wrapped around him. Breaking the kiss, he began to walk out of the bathroom. "My turn, hunter."