amrit for you, love,” he murmured, and directed me to sit at his feet again.
Amrit?
“Why not?” The question came from Zaquiel. “I’d be curious about the effects on her. It’s been some time since I’ve seen it used on a human.”
“It doesn’t agree with her,” Azazel said, his voice casual, not a hint of subterfuge on his face.
“Such a shame.”
What is it—amrit? I mentally pushed toward Azazel.
You’re familiar with the concept of ambrosia?
I frowned. The nectar of the gods?
A bit more complicated than that, but yes. He took a sip from his glass. Human substances have no effect on us, but amrit does.
So it’s like booze for demons?
He smiled over his glass. As close as it can get.
And what does it do to humans?
Unpredictable things. It’s not meant to be consumed by mortals.
He laid his hand on my nape, massaging my skin lightly, and a pleasant shiver cascaded down my spine, reigniting the barely banked fire in my core.
Am I, though? I asked, struggling to keep my thoughts from melting. Still mortal, that is.
His grasp became a tad more proprietary, and his mental voice brooked no argument. I’m not willing to test it.
Any other questions I might have had vanished in the feel of his fingers on my skin, the command in his touch when his hand stroked up and down my throat, tilting back my head. The room spun. I held on to his thigh to keep myself from spinning along with it.
His muscles like steel underneath his pants, he was my anchor when I would have drowned in the magnetic allure of the music, once again a rhythm of such raw sensuality, it felt like a siren’s call to sex. The throbbing pulse between my legs—still too exposed, too sensitive—scattered any and all thoughts except how to ease the pressure building inside me.
His fingers caressed my jaw, grazed my lips—and I opened my mouth and sucked his thumb inside. Gave him a taste of the torture I was going through.
Dark power washed over me, a blanket of energy caught between a kiss and a bite.
Liked that, didn’t he?
Well, I was in the mood to tease him some more. I’d been squirming under his influence for the past hour—time to turn the tables a bit, let him see I could give as good as I got.
Tilting my head, I rubbed my cheek over his groin, over the still very prominent hardness pressing against his pants. My breath caught when I felt it twitch. More heat pooled low in my core, and I shifted on the cushion, half turning toward him.
His hand now in my hair, his fingers firm in their grasp, creating a delicious pull on my scalp, he stared down at me with eyes of molten lightning.
Was it just my imagination, or did his breath come a little faster?
A thrill coursed through me. I did that. I made him look like this, like he might—might—just lose that damned control of his.
And, God, but I wanted him to.
Who was this wanton creature testing the limits of a demon’s restraint? I had no idea, but she was definitely in charge right now. Gone was any thought of modesty, forgotten all awareness of anything—and anyone—outside this intimate cocoon of hunger and lust as I fully turned around despite his death grip on my hair.
Kneeling on the cushion in a quiet mockery of supplication, I ran my hands over his thighs, toward his groin...brushing ever so lightly over his cock straining against the fabric of his pants.
His chest heaved. Just a little, but noticeable enough for me, and it added fuel to my fire.
I wanted to singe him with it.
With deliberate slowness and pressure, I repeated my caress, watching as he watched me with hooded eyes. I shifted a bit, an involuntary move to soothe the ache between my legs.
Drums, drums all around me, within me, thumping in my blood, in time with the heavy beat of my heart, the pulse of need in my bones.
I reached for the fastening of his pants, but his hand caught my wrists, held them.
Steel in his gaze as he grabbed my chin with his other hand, tilted my head back, leaned forward and covered my mouth with his.
Everything ground to a halt.
My breath, my heart, my mind, my senses, all stopped and blanked, as if switched off.
His lips on mine, his tongue licking, demanding entrance, and I complied eagerly, hungrily, seeking his taste as if my life depended on it. I moaned into his mouth,