Wicked Abyss (Immortals After Dark #17) - Kresley Cole Page 0,59

went on indefinitely . . .

“Not at all. The years will bear that out, and I look forward to them. But first I need to get you out of danger. I’m about to trace, little fey. I’ve got a fifty-fifty shot of predicting which way you’ll go.”

“Whatever you’re going to do, you better be quick about it. Because I’m faster than I’ve ever been.”

He lunged to her left; she skirted right—

Arms snagged her waist. The demon had faked her out and tackled her!

The force sent them hurtling across the glen. His wings closed around her, and he twisted to take the impact as they landed.

She was . . . unharmed? He’d handled her like a crystal vase someone had beaned at him.

He released her from his wings, but only to flip her onto her back in the silvery grass. Levering himself above her, he pinned her wrists above her head.

Neither of them moved. Their breaths sounded loud, even over the bubbling pool. As his body loomed over her, his massive size registered in a way it never had before. He’s a lethal warrior.

His scent—clean sweat and fire—hit her. Overstimulation left her dazed. The molten gold lovingly highlighted his features, the color matching his glyphs.

Light played over his straightened horns. His sweat-slicked skin. His brutal but mesmerizing face.

When had he grown as captivating as the rest of this world? Rugged terrain; rugged demon.

He looked like hell’s version of a sex divinity.

Inner shake. This was a M?ri?r holding her. She thrashed against him, didn’t gain an inch.

“I scent your arousal, female. If it’s anything like mine, you’re frantic for release.” He wedged his hips between her thighs, propping himself over her. Only their clothes and a slight space separated their bodies.

She was high from her immortality, from exploring Pandemonia. If overstimulation lasted forever, her chances of resisting him grew dim.

What was he about to do? Better question: what was she about to do? Urges racked her.

She wanted to lick his lips, to clutch his generous pecs. Her fingers opened and closed as she imagined sinking her nails into his narrow hips and yanking him against her.

His smoldering gaze raked over her body. “You’re so fucking sexy.” He rubbed his pointed tongue over one of his fangs.

The sight made her shiver. Helpless to resist, she rocked her hips. She sucked in a breath when her pussy briefly pressed against his hard dick. The unreal heat of it reached her through their clothes.

“Lila, yes!” He shuddered, but he didn’t grind against her, just held himself there. “Again . . .”

Staring into his onyx eyes, she wantonly undulated for more of his addictive heat. Her skirt hiked up, almost exposing her, but she didn’t care.

Not now. Not on the first night of her immortality.

Sian wanted to roar with triumph. He’d gone from believing his mate would die tonight—to discovering she was a true immortal.

If she would let him protect her further, history would not repeat itself.

And now she lay beneath him, looking like an offering. Her loose hair streamed out across the grass, those locks shining in the goldlight. Her cheeks were flushed, her tapered ears pinkened. Her heavy-lidded eyes were blazing teal.

She bit her bottom lip, clearly debating whether to undulate again.

“Do it, female,” he rasped. “You want to do it.” He could scent her lush wetness. “Didn’t it feel good?”

She rubbed up against him, making him dizzy with pleasure. “I saw the way you looked at me earlier, demon. See the way you’re looking at me now.” She repeated the sensuous movement, beginning to pant. “This is more than revenge. You were either in love with Karinna or she was your mate.”

Between breaths, he said, “I’ve hated Kari—you—for ten millennia.”

“Deny it, then.” She rocked upward again, but he needed more contact between them.

He wanted more of his mate. He thrust against her, drawing a moan from her throat. Not enough.

When he reached for her skirt, her eyes went wide. “No! I don’t want you to fuck me.”

“I’m not. Yet.” He grasped her skirt, searching her expression.

She hesitated, then nodded.

He raised the material to reveal her mouthwatering sex. Atop her mons, she had a small patch of sandy-brown curls. Her little clitoris pouted for his touch—for his tongue—and the trimmed curls around her lips were soaked.

His horns shot straighter, his body in a lather for that wetness. “Gods almighty.”

He tore open his pants, wincing when his cock sprang free. His pierced shaft thickened even more when he laid it over her clit. At the