But their relationship wasn’t built on such basic lines. “You never broke me even when you could.” She wasn’t about to allow him to believe such dark lies about himself because toxic seeds took root and dug in. “A pet hunter would’ve been far more convenient for you, but you didn’t steal my mind.”
“I played with you as a cat does with a mouse.”
“This mouse has claws, in case you’ve forgotten.” She had a blade at his jugular before he realized it—wearing sweats or not, she never went anywhere without a knife or ten. “I’m the one who shot you, hurt you.”
A slow blink . . . followed by a smile so devastating that it knocked the air right out of her. “I concede this round, Guild Hunter.”
Slipping away the blade, Elena knew the battle was far from over. They’d be dealing with it for eons yet. Both of Raphael’s parents had gone mad. It wasn’t an easy history to bear. “Smart man.”
Raphael pushed off the wall, stripped to the waist, then kicked off his boots; neither of them had bothered to put on socks. “I think it is time we sparred again.”
Blood heating, Elena nonetheless raised an eyebrow. “Around all this ridiculously expensive equipment?”
A shrug. “We will make it a rule. Any equipment damage is an automatic forfeit requiring the loss of a piece of clothing.”
The man was only wearing pants.
Her breasts swelled; her clitoris damn near did the foxtrot. “You sure know how to talk dirty to me, Archangel.” Toeing off her trainers, she got into a ready position opposite him. “Walls, floor, ceiling don’t count,” she added. “Only equipment.”
“Accepted.” He followed her subtle movements as she dropped a blade into her hand. They’d worked out the rules long ago—she got whatever weapons she wanted while he remained bare-handed. It was the only way to fight an archangel.
“A little hesitant today, hbeebti?”
“Keep up the trash talk and see how many holes I poke in you.” She threw a blade with pinpoint accuracy but he evaded it with flawless effort and it slammed home in the opposite wall, an inch away from a communication screen. Raphael lunged to grab her arm in the same movement, but she was already dancing out of the way.
In the process, she knocked over a small thingamajig. She didn’t know what it did but it had lots of blinking lights. Or had until her unfortunate contact. “Shit.” Stripping off her sweatshirt to Raphael’s slow smile, she threw it in the corner with her trainers. Now she was down to her tank top and sweatpants.
Panties hadn’t seemed important at the time.
“Go,” she said, to restart the bout.
The damn sneaky archangel made a move that meant she had to throw a blade or get taken down hard. The blade ended up quivering in a communication screen. The one that had recently held Charisemnon’s face. She felt a momentary pleasure in that before her archangel lifted his hands, palms up. “Rules are rules.”
Elena narrowed her eyes. “You don’t want to win. You just want me to fight you naked.”
A slow, so slow smile that had her going slick between the thighs. “Off.” A nod at her tank top.
Not about to go down easy, Elena smiled and took off her sweatpants instead. Her loose sleep tank just brushed the top of her thighs. Raphael’s abdomen tightened, all rippling muscle she wanted to lick, his arousal rigid against his pants. “Go,” she murmured while he was still distracted . . . but her archangel obviously had priorities that involved getting her bare ass naked.
He spun toward her without warning, coming at a speed no one could avoid . . . except Elena did. One minute she was right in his path, the only way to evade him to go low and attempt to sweep out his wings, and the next, she was two feet to the left.
They both froze. Stared.
Elena blinked. “Did you see that?”
“More to the point, I didn’t see it.” Raphael lunged toward her again, at the same speed.
Elena found herself crouching on the top of an equipment dolly, like a damn mostly naked bat. She fell off the instant she realized what she was doing. “Ouch,” she said when she landed on the carpet, her wings crackling with lightning on either side of her.
Coming around the dolly to look down at her, Raphael kicked up his lips. “Did you know your favorite tank is so old it’s transparent?” He held out a hand.
Taking it, she hauled him down on top of her instead of letting him haul her up. She succeeded because she’d hooked her foot around his ankle at the same time. He caught himself on his hands before he crushed her.
“I could break your bones.” A dark scowl, but the heat of him was a kiss all over her aroused body.
“Nah. Your reflexes are too fast.” She pressed a wet kiss to his pectoral muscle and that quickly, it wasn’t about play anymore—if it had ever been. “I want you. I need you.” It was a painful ache within, below the momentary amusement of their sparring session. “Everything else can wait.”
His wings began to glow. His kiss was pure raw sex, the hand he thrust under her tank possessive and rough on her breast. Elena licked her tongue against his even as she tugged apart the closures on his pants. She wanted his cock inside her, wanted to close herself around him, wanted to reaffirm the beauty of life after all the death, all the evil.
Shoving up one of her thighs the instant she’d freed the thickness of him, he thrust into her while looking into her eyes. Her back arched, her hands gripping at his body, and her eyes never leaving his. Wrapping her other leg around his waist, she held him tight as he pounded her into the carpet, each stroke hard and deep and relentless.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t distant. It wasn’t the least bit cold.
Sweat slicked their bodies. His throat tasted of salt and Raphael. His groan as he drove deep into her before his body stiffened was nothing eerie or strange. It was life stripped to the core. As was the way her inner muscles clenched convulsively around him as he began to orgasm, the muscles of his body beautiful under the shimmer of sweat.
Pleasure wrecked her.
He collapsed on her afterward, his breath hot against her neck and his body heavy. She could barely breathe, but who cared about that when Raphael was stroking the side of her body and moving slightly in her as they both rode out the aftershocks. “I think I have carpet burn on my butt,” she said when she could speak again.
His shoulders shook under her hands.
And for a few more stolen seconds, they didn’t think about Lijuan or death or the fact Elena had become faster than an archangel.
49
A one-minute shower to hide evidence of their quickie from the smartasses in the Tower, a change into proper sparring clothes, then they went down to the large windowless training ring on a lower floor. “Vivek set up a recording system here for if we want to play back certain moves, figure out weaknesses.” She made her way to the control box and started the system. “I want proof.”