your mate."
Who could resist such alluring words? I swayed against him, my body coming to life in a way that I never knew it could. Deep, hidden parts of me that had only been utilized in a most mundane fashion suddenly began to tingle at his nearness. When his breath brushed against me, I didn't back away, as I knew I should. I lifted my chin to meet his mouth, allowing my lips to caress his, the skin of my arms burning where they touched the bare flesh of his chest.
The sane part of me, the part that knew who I was and what would happen should I forget it, screamed dire warnings, but I seemed to be unable to do anything but focus on the sensations Gabriel brought to life deep within me. "This isn't right," I murmured against his mouth.
"It was meant to be," he answered, his hands at his sides as I let more of my body lean against him. I had a feeling he was deliberately holding himself back, allowing me time to get comfortable with him. How he knew I was nervous about my lack of experience with sexual intimacy escaped me, since I had tried to present a mien that, while not worldly, was not one of utter stupefaction where things sexual were concerned.
Nerves be damned, I thought to myself as I let my lips wander along his jawline. Although he had a mustache and goatee, both trimmed short, the rest of his face was clean shaven, leaving a long jawline to nibble along. And nibble I did, enjoying both his scent (deliciously woodsy) and taste (hot and fiery, leaving me wanting more). But headiest still were the soft little groans of pleasure he made, and the way his breath hitched as I bit gently down on his earlobe.
"Mayling, I don't think I will be able to keep from possessing you if you do that again," he murmured, his chest and arms twitching beneath my questing hands.
My stomach tightened at his use of "Mayling." Cyrene had called me by the nickname ever since I'd been created, but never had the word stirred such a warm glow of happiness as when Gabriel said it. Perhaps it was as he said-we were meant to be. Who was I to turn my back on fate? Would it be so wrong to give in to temptation just once...?
"Mayling, my sweet one. I have prayed to the gods that one day I would find you..."
A little chill touched my spine as the air-conditioning found my suddenly bared skin, but it wasn't that which froze me. Magoth's image rose in my mind, impossibly handsome, coolly calculating.
"No," I said, almost sobbing as I pushed back from where Gabriel was peeling my clothing off. He'd gotten both the leather bodice and my shirt off without me being aware of it. I snatched up the shirt and hurriedly buttoned it, backing away from him as I did so.
"What is it, sweet May-" he started to say.
"Stop," I interrupted. "Don't call me that. Don't ever call me that. He uses that word. It makes me feel... sick."
Gabriel watched me for a moment with eyes that seemed to see too much. I turned away, feeling soiled by the association with Magoth. What was I doing giving in to my base urges when I knew the outcome could only end in tragedy?
"Which word is it that upsets you? Sweet?"
I nodded, telling myself to stop being such a coward and face him. Slowly I turned back around, dreading the expression I knew would greet me.
To my surprise, he wasn't even looking at me. Instead he frowned at the bottle of wine, wiping off dust with a hand towel from the bathroom. "Do you object to me calling you by your pet name?" he finally asked, glancing up at me with nothing in his face or eyes but interest in the question.
"No, I don't mind. Cyrene has called me Mayling for as long as I can remember."
He nodded. "Then I will do so as well. Will you sit and have some wine? I will move to the balcony if you do not wish for me to be near you."
Oh, gods, how had things come to this? I sagged down onto the edge of the bed and let myself slump into a ball of unhappiness. "I think we both know that I have no aversion to being near you. I nibbled all over you, if nothing else."
"No," he said,