I opened my eyes again. “And what about the baron?” I managed.
She was whispering again, but all I could think about was what it would be like to kiss her between her legs. My fists clenched.
Why couldn’t I have dreamt of Ernald? He’d proven himself to be far more useful to me as a spy than Zahra was. And with him around, I wouldn’t risk losing my mind.
I pulled my gaze away from her, trying to quench my desire, and glanced out the two-way mirror to my left. There was a woman with bright red hair lying across Lord Apedale’s lap. She was naked from the waist down, her backside red from being hit. Other women were writhing in the laps of the Free Men, shameless. I imagined myself for a moment with Zahra in my lap, half naked …
They were smoking something, a pale smoke with a sweet scent. I could hear my own blood roaring, and the smell of lust bloom began to float through the air. That was what the common folks called the bright red flower that grew in some of the fields to the north. Long ago, they’d crushed it up and smoked it, and filled orgy rooms with incense. It was what they’d used for their pagan fertility festivals a thousand years ago, when they thought the gods would help them fertilize their fields if they fucked each other around bonfires.
Now, the scent of that aphrodisiac was curling into this small space, filling it. I never thought it affected angels before, but now I thought I was in real trouble.
With an iron will, I tried to clear my thoughts.
It was just that Zahra seemed to be feeling the effects also.
She slid her arms around my neck, and I shuddered with pleasure. I heard her heart race a little faster, and when I looked into her dark eyes, I saw that her pupils were dilating. As I breathed in her scent, I stiffened. Was that just the aphrodisiac, or …
It was hard to think clearly. I was going to lose it. My blood pounded hard, thoughts sliding into shadow. I was going to lose control completely.
Shadows whirled in my mind, and I was starting to shift, my true face emerging. I knew the beast was coming out, and flames were igniting in my eyes. My mind went black for a moment, then I realized one hand was gently around her throat, the other at her waist, my thumb pressing into the curve of her hip just over her silk panties. I wanted to rip this little bit of silk off her, to take her and make her mine.
“Slide into you, fill you …”
“What?” she whispered.
Had I spoken out loud?
But as the darkness descended, I had no idea what I might do next.
And that was my last coherent thought before everything went black.
31
Lila
Samael’s hand was clamped so hard on my hip that I was sure he’d leave a bruise. His other hand slid up my neck, and he threaded his fingers into my hair. With a sharp tug, he pulled back my head.
His powerful body trapped me against the double-sided mirror. Slowly, one of his knees slid between my legs. My throat felt vulnerable to him—my whole body, really.
I was in serious danger right now, because Samael no longer seemed in control. Being pinned here by him, pressed against him, fear entwined with a dark, forbidden thrill. Every inch of my skin felt sensitive, my pulse racing wildly. I tried to stay still, waiting to see if he’d release his grip on me.
But the real question was—why in the hell was I so turned on by this? Because God, it felt good.
He lowered his face to my exposed throat. A low growl rose from him, and I was sure that Samael was no longer himself. Something primal was overtaking him, and his grip on me was ferocious.
I let out a slow, shuddering breath. Was he beguiling me?
When I looked over his shoulder, I saw fiery chains snaking around his powerful body like serpents. My stomach swooped.
Oh God. He’s a beautiful creature from Hell. He is the Angel of Death, and the entirety of his attention is focused on me right now, pinning me right where he wants me.
My heart slammed against my chest. Crushed between him and the wall, I breathed in slowly, deeply, trying to marshal calm. This felt good, but what if he snapped and just killed me?
As I took those deep breaths, I inhaled the sweet, exotic scent of lust bloom. It mingled with Samael’s masculine, iron aroma. I kept breathing, in and out, keeping my eyes closed. But my heart was still racing.
All I knew was that it was my patriotic duty to open his cloak, and to run my hand over his powerful chest. I felt him shudder as I did, heard the sharp intake of breath.
With his thumb on my hip, slid into my panties, his knee between my legs … I was dangerously turned on. Every point where Samael was touching me, waves of pleasure rocked through me.
He leaned down, his mouth close to my neck, warming me with his breath.
The next thing I knew, he was grazing his teeth over my neck. So gentle I gasped. The lightness of the touch was like an excruciating, sensual torture. Then, he pressed against the skin a little more firmly with his teeth, and warmth slid through my belly. I moaned softly.
Good. This was good. I needed to seduce him. Bang up job, Lila. I just did what I must for my country. For Albia. It was absolutely not my fault if I was enjoying it.
His thumb slid down a little more, and I was suddenly desperate for him to pull my knickers all the way off, to take me fast and hard up against the two-way mirror. I wanted him to thrust into me until I shuddered against him.
Bloody hell, that lust bloom was strong.
Sure, it didn’t hurt that Samael looked like a god. As his lips and tongue replaced his teeth on my neck, all the words left my mind, the blood flowing away from my brain.
I brushed my hands down his back, and felt the phantom chains snaking over it, skimming over my skin with heat. His knee was still between my legs, and a sharp ache built in me.
He pulled his lips from my throat.
I chanced a look at his face, and my heart stopped. His gaze was scorching. His cowl had fallen back, and I’d seen it just for a moment—those flames in his eyes, whorls of gold over his cheekbones. All it had taken was one little glimpse, and my mind had started swimming with fear. Still divinely beautiful, but it was a face not meant for mortal eyes.
I closed my eyes again, breathing slowly. In, out, in, out, a slow and deep drawing of breath.
With another low growl, he gripped my hair and tugged my head back a little more, exposing my throat further. He wanted me completely vulnerable, in his power. And God help me, I liked it.
His lips brushed my skin, and a wave of heat surged. He nipped, and another little moan rose in my throat. His thumb on my hip was moving now—still a firm, iron grip, but sliding up and down, up and down inside my panties.
I’d planned to seduce him. Instead, I was completely at his mercy. My breath started coming faster, and I could smell that lust bloom in the air. It was becoming hard to think straight. With every movement, my silk camisole skimmed over my breasts, tightening my nipples to sensitive points.
With his thumb in my knickers, he started to inch them down, ever so slowly, just one hip. Excruciating, so slow. My bare skin ached to be touched.
With his mouth on my throat, his teeth closed on my skin again—light, but threatening. It seemed like he was deciding if he wanted to kiss me or tear out my neck. When I touched his steely chest, I felt his fingers flex on my hip.
Then, his tongue swirled over my neck. His mouth moved over my skin, kissing, exploring, tasting. His hand was now sliding into my knickers, cupping my bare arse. I moved against him, wanting him to thrust his hand in further. I needed him to fill the sharp ache between my legs.