His dick throbbed in time to his racing heart.
Take her. Fuck her. Keep her. The chant in his head was unending.
More monster than man, he gave a fierce roar, buried his face in the curve of her neck and fucked her hard and fast, his hips pumping nonstop.
Warm water showered over them. The slap of their wet bodies mingled with her breathy moans and sighs, his deep groans.
“Yes.” She screamed her release. It echoed in his ears, pounded in his blood. When her slick sheath rippled around him, he lost it. Hard and fast, his release rocketed up from his balls.
Panting hard, he rode her to madness and beyond. He wasn’t human and didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Within moments, he was hard and ready to come again. His body was a well-honed machine. His goal, sexual satisfaction.
The darkness in him took over, reveling in the pleasure she gave him. Having her come again and again left him craving more. His hips pistoned, his hands hard on her hips, holding her steady as he plundered. And she was there with him, her sweet pussy squeezing and milking him. It was glorious.
It was only after her fifth orgasm and his third, he finally gained control. What the hell was he doing? If she’d been human, he might have killed her.
“Fuck.” Breathing heavily, he lifted her away from the wall, still holding her in his arms, unwilling to relinquish her just yet.
Her head rested limply on his shoulder. “Didn’t we just do that?” She sighed and then wrapped her arms around him.
Maccus closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting the water stream over them. He’d fucked her without concern or care, something he’d never done, even at his worst. Being so strong, he’d always had to be in control, so he didn’t hurt the female he was with, even supernatural creatures. Not to mention, he had to be alert in case his partner decided to try to kill him.
He’d lost all sense of time and place with Morrigan.
He stepped out of the shower, ignoring the broken tile littering the bottom. Holding her snuggly with one arm, he turned off the water. She sighed and kissed his neck.
They were both dripping, but he closed his eyes and drew all the heat in the room toward them, blowing the warmed air over them. When he opened his eyes, they were both dry.
He carried her into his bedroom and placed her in his bed. She looked too at home with her head on his pillow, his comforter pulled over her. Stepping away from her was more difficult than he’d imagined.
Her eyes closed, Morrigan smuggled down and gave a small snore.
His lips twitched. She’d destroyed him. But at least he wasn’t alone in that. He’d totally worn her out. And some part of her trusted him enough to fall asleep in his presence.
For the first time in more than ten thousand years, Maccus smiled. Not an ironic one or one designed to irritate or scare the crap out of an opponent, but an honest to goodness smile.
It disappeared as fast as it appeared.
The woman sleeping in his bed made him vulnerable. Why had Gabriel tried to contract him to kill her?
It was a puzzle to be solved. He had to protect her, at least until her true purpose in the scheme of things became clear. If the archangel was willing to contract him to kill her, she might be more important to him than he realized.
And while he was figuring that out, he had to keep her from killing him. Because that was why she was here. Who’d hired her? Lucifer? Gabriel? Some other, unidentified player?
She made another small sigh. Her skin was rosy from the shower and their lovemaking, and he could smell himself on her. It would be so easy to crawl between her thighs and taste her, arousing her slowly, so by the time she woke, she’d be ready to take him again.
But first, he had work to do to ensure he didn’t have any other uninvited guests. He’d stayed out of the games played between Heaven and Hell for thousands of years, but he was being drawn back into them.
Until he figured out why, he was going to protect himself. Anyone stupid enough to try to gain unauthorized entry to his home was going to be in for quite a surprise.
He walked out into his living room, manifested one of the daggers from his chest, and dragged the blade over his palm. Blood seeped from the shallow wound. Dipping his finger into it, he stepped up to the wall and began to draw.
…
Morrigan’s entire body ached. Not in a she’d-been-fighting-a-demon way. No, her body throbbed in the most delicious way. Her core pulsed as though still vibrating from the most amazing orgasm she’d ever had in her entire life. Or rather the four most amazing orgasms. Or was it five? She’d lost count.
Maccus had been a machine, fucking her hard and fast. She’d never experienced anything like it. He’d been out of control, something she was pretty sure was rare for him.
For a heartbeat, she feared he was going to kill her. His hands had wrapped around her throat, fingers tightening around the slender column. Her life had flashed before her eyes. Regrets had saddened her. And she had so many. Not just for herself, but for the younger sister she’d given up everything to save.
Funnily enough, being with Maccus wasn’t one of them.
But he’d simply gripped her neck, his touch firm but not damaging, as he fought some internal battle.
Dying didn’t bother her. It was what came after. If she died before she completed her task, Lucifer would make sure she suffered for eternity.
On a shudder, she opened her eyes and pushed herself into a sitting position. She was alone in the biggest bed she’d ever seen. Forget king-size; this thing was built for a giant—or an almost seven-foot whatever Maccus was.
She was naked and completely dry. How had that happened? The last thing she remembered was an orgasm that had rocked her to her very core. She’d closed her eyes to rest for a few minutes. And that was it.
Maccus was dangerous. He’d made her lower her guard with him—something she hadn’t done in a decade.
The sound of chanting drifted through the open door. Curious, she scooted off the bed and padded silently down the hall.
The scene before her was like something out of a horror movie. The previously white walls were now covered in blood-red symbols. Some of them she recognized from her time in Hell and from the cuffs she slapped onto the bounties she hunted. Others were totally foreign to her.
But they were powerful. Even though she had no paranormal abilities whatsoever, there was no mistaking the pulse of energy flowing from them.
He finished the final symbol and straightened from a crouch. The blood on his hands faded, as though absorbing back into him, leaving no wound behind. “You’re awake.”
She motioned to the symbols covering the walls. “Redecorating?”
His lips twitched but still no smile.