control. But who are you to tell me that I can’t be close to the only person left in my life, the only person I can still trust? Well, I say to hell with propriety and to hell with everyone else and what they want. This is about what we want.”
With that said, I kissed him again. Then I pulled back just far enough to level a challenging stare on him.
Your move.
His hands caressed the contours of my back all the way down…his fingers finally settling lightly on my hips, like a butterfly setting down on a flower petal.
“This is about what we want,” he repeated, casting a long, leisurely look down the length of my body. His gaze lifted. “You.” His eyes captured mine. “And I.” His grip tightened on my hips.
“Yes.” I arched toward him.
His hold loosened, if only but a little. Even so, it felt like all heat had evaporated from my body, leaving me cold and alone.
“And you’re quite sure about this?” he asked seriously, his words falling against my lips.
“Yes.”
Clutching me tightly, he dipped back my head and kissed me—slow and easy at first, but his kiss quickly grew faster, deeper. Almost savage. His tongue slipped past my lips. My head grew dizzy, my body feverish. A soft moan escaped my mouth.
Damiel was a good kisser. He knew exactly which buttons to push—and when to push them. I tried to match his moves, hoping desperately that he didn’t think I was a complete idiot. While I could fight a pack of monsters or build a Magitech generator, I had never trained this. In matters of love and pleasure, I was as green as a Legion initiate.
My father had always chased away any man who tried to court me in any shape or form. He’d sent them all away before I could develop a meaningful relationship with any of them. He was always watching me through others he’d planted in my circle, I now realized.
Damiel set his hands on my cheeks and met my eyes. “No one will scare me away.”
“You read my thoughts.”
“They were shouting out so loudly. I overheard. Are you upset?”
“No.” I managed a half smile. “Just embarrassed.”
“If anything, I should be embarrassed that you are thinking about something other than me while kissing me.” He stroked a strand of my hair between his fingers. He only touched the very ends, but even so, his caress sent delightful shivers through my entire body. “It means I am not doing my job.”
I couldn’t say why I laughed, but I did. “I apologize for being rude.”
“I choose to view it as a challenge, an opportunity to make you forget those unhappy thoughts.”
He kissed me again. His hands stroked my head, massaging my scalp. His fingers loosened my hair, caressing my neck, all the way down my back. My muscles melted at his touch, at the same time relaxed and completely wound up. But how could I feel both calm and tense at the same time?
“Stop overthinking it, Cadence.”
And slowly, I did stop overthinking it. I put my heart into every kiss—feeling, not thinking.
Until it was I who pulled away this time.
“Ok.” I met his gaze. “We should go to New York now.”
His breathing was heavy, his eyes alight with magic. “After you.”
A part of me was thrilled to see him out of breath, victorious; that was the angel in me, the part of me that needed to conquer.
It lay in direct opposition to the part of me that yearned to be conquered. The part of me that waited with bated breath as he moved toward me, that got excited from the slow stroke of his hand down my jaw.
“Are you sure you can focus long enough to get us there?” His eyes twinkled. The wicked bastard knew how charming he was.
“I don’t know, Colonel.” I drew the Diamond Tear. “Do you think you can focus long enough to walk through the portal?”
He laughed.
I created the passage to New York. Winking, I grabbed his hand, then pulled him in with me.
We appeared at the center of the Promenade in New York, directly in front of a sparkling white obelisk. Within that building lay the east coast headquarters of the Legion of Angels, the seat of Damiel’s territory.
We walked into a lush and opulent lobby, gold and white and heavenly all over. Hand-painted gods looked down on us from the colorful ceiling, and angel portraits stood guard on the walls.
The eyes of every soldier in the room