Hell's Gates (Urban Fantasy) (17 page)

I bit my lip, breathing deeply and holding back a moan. He rubbed my back and shoulders harder, releasing the tightness from my muscles. The lower he dipped along my spine, the more I leaned forward, aching for him. I don’t know if it was an accident or my wolf taking control, but the new position thrust my ass against his dick. He pressed forward, and I could feel his hardness, his cock practically begging for my wet pussy.

Sam grabbed my hips, pulling me closer—tighter—against him. He grinded into my ass, the feel of him so close to my center ratcheting my arousal up even higher. I gripped the kitchen counter, leaning farther forward. This was the way my wolf wanted it—wanted him. I wasn’t one to be so vulnerable, but there was that part of me that needed to be claimed, to be dominated.

His hands roamed up my sides, sending chills through me, and goosebumps formed in his wake. He slid one hand into my hair and tightened it into a rough fist. I gasped, arching my back, the stretch pushing me roughly against his dick. Fuck, I needed. My clit twitched and my pussy grew heavy and ached with arousal. My nipples hardened, begging to be pinched and stroked and dammit, he knew that. He had to.

His other hand went to my hip and then dipped beneath the hem of my shirt. His palm skated over the soft skin of my stomach, sliding higher until he cupped my breast. I whined and rolled my hips once more, body moving without thought. He growled in response and a rush of ecstasy consumed me. A tug had my bra giving way, baring my breast to his attentions. He cupped and kneaded the mound before taking my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Then, fuck, he pinched and tugged, adding a hint of pain to that overwhelming pleasure and need that thrummed in my veins. I couldn’t help but dig my nails into the countertop, scraping the Formica surface, and I didn’t give a damn if it’d piss off Momma R tomorrow.

Too good. Too hot.

One hand still fisting my hair, he let the other roam, ending his taunting of my nipple and wandering south.

I panted and hoped and got close to praying for what I wanted so badly. Fuck, I wanted. His fingers teased the waist of my pants, dipping beneath the denim for a moment before returning to my abdomen.

“Caith?” His hoarse whisper was a question filled with need.

I whimpered and nodded, waiting for him to give us what we both craved. It felt so good to stop fighting the urge, to let go and give in. A quick snap had the button undone, the rasp of the zipper lowering soon after. He shoved and yanked, my jeans falling to the ground, leaving me in my panties. My soaked panties, the cool air making me shiver with the chill.

He ran his fingers along one elastic edge and I thrummed in anticipation, cunt ready to be fingered, fucked, something. When he reached my center, he fisted my panties and tugged, tearing them and exposing me to the room. I whined and wiggled my half-bared ass. The smooth leather teased my sensitive skin and I cursed their presence.

His hand retreated, stealing the pleasure from me. A whine built in my throat, an objection I couldn’t put to voice, but I swallowed it with the next sound.

Another snap. Another rasping zipper. I gasped and fought him, anxious to have his length deep inside me. But he wouldn’t give me what I wanted, what I craved, until I thought I’d lose my mind. No, he pleased my wolf instead, growling at me to stay put, tightening his fist to hold me in place while he tugged his cock free. He rubbed his hard length between my ass cheeks, teasing me but withholding what we both ached for. He remained that way, rocking back and forth, silently telling me I could have this if I was a good girl, if I submitted to him.

But the alpha bitch in me didn’t want to submit. It wanted Sam, but only if he could over power me. It wanted to be taken.

I
wanted to be taken.

So he pushed me forward, forcing me to press my chest to the countertop, to bare myself to him completely, utterly.

And that’s… I finally gave in, my wolf howling. “Sam,” I whined, the wolf’s voice melding with my own. It forced one other word past my lips. “Please.”

That’s when his dick traced the crack of my ass, teasing my back entrance for a moment. I held my breath, waiting, wanting and dreading at the same time. He could take me there and I would submit fully, granting him my full submission. The alpha bitch in me… was ready.

But Sam wasn’t and I almost whined in regret. Almost. Instead, the tip of his dick kissed my pussy, the head circling my opening. His grip held me immobile, frozen in place and unable to do anything to speed him along.

He pushed inside of me, large cock impaling me in one smooth thrust until our hips met. I cried out in pleasure, cursing his name as he filled me, had his way with me.

“Fuck.” I banged my hand on the counter, the pleasure overwhelming me in that split second.

Sam gripped my shoulder, pulling me back against him and forcing me to meet his every thrust. He grunted and growled at me, sounding more like a wolf than a fallen. That just added to my pleasure, my pussy rippling around his thick length. He fucked me hard and deep, his breaths coming out in heaving pants and my rapid heartrate matched his.

I was lost to him, in him, in what he did to my body. The wolf howled, thrilled to be mastered by its mate, and I let myself be carried away by the ecstasy and bliss of his fucking. My pussy tightened, milking him in a taunting rhythm that gave us both pleasure.

He tightened his hold on my shoulder, fingernails digging into flesh, and I reveled in that pain as if he were a wolf—a wolf biting his bitch.

I couldn’t hold back anymore, the bliss so intense I thought I’d burst into flames, scorch the entire house from the Earth with the height of my joy. My veins burned, the impending release striking out and sizzling along every vein. I panted and moaned, whimpered and groaned, in time with his every thrust and retreat.

Needed. Needed. Needed.

Then… I balanced on the edge, orgasm just out of reach and I stretched for it, searching for that overwhelming pleasure. Sam sent me teetering over the cliff with one last wolf-like action. His nails pierced my flesh, fingers cutting through my skin like the bite of a beast, and that was all I needed.

I fell over the edge, shoving the side of my hand in my mouth to muffle my screams while the roiling fire of bliss consumed me. I burst into flames, reveling in the heat of his cock inside me, his cock giving me such delicious pleasure.

I gasped and moaned, shuddering with the random trembles and shakes. The only thing that kept me from sliding from the counter was Sam, his hard cock still inside me, his hands still holding me steady.

He hadn’t come, but I don’t know why I would have expected him to. Gels weren’t supposed to fuck tweens. A gel definitely shouldn’t fuck the Princess of Hell if he was searching for redemption. A pang of regret tore at my heart, but I pushed it away. I had him. Not whole, but I had him.

Sam stepped away, slipping from my cunt and releasing me, and I stumbled back, nearly tumbling to the ground. He caught me, spinning me and tugging me into his arms. He swooped in and captured my mouth, shoving his tongue past my lips. I wrapped my arms around his neck, clinging to him and savoring the heated taste of his mouth. I wanted him all over again, wanted to be possessed and consumed by him.

But his hard cock was pressed against my stomach between us, a reminder that I needed to heed. I pulled away, stepping back and reaching for my jeans. The panties were a lost cause and I ripped them off, tucking them in my pocket. He tucked himself back into his pants, thumping his hard cock to make it go down, and he gave me a rueful grin.

He didn’t have to repeat On High’s stupid rules or explain why he hadn’t finished. Instead of hating what we couldn’t have, I would take what we could. I grasped his hand and tugged him to the living room, nudging him until he laid back on the couch. I snuggled on his lap and simply enjoyed the feeling of his arms wrapped around me.

“I needed that,” I whispered into the darkness, not wanting to break this peace.

“I could tell,” he softly kissed my temple.

I tilted my head back, twisting to look up at him. “Have I really been that tense?”

Another chaste kiss across my brow. “More so tonight than any other since I returned.”

I turned back around, folding my arms to hide my vulnerability. “That figures.”

“Why would that be?”

I didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want him to know there was yet another chink in my armor. But he started rubbing my shoulders, hands gently caressing me. It was hard to keep my walls up when I was so content and at peace.

“I saw my mother earlier.”

“Aaah.” He froze for a moment and then resumed his massage. “I take it things didn’t go well?”

“I… I don’t even know.” I leaned forward, giving him access to my sore muscles, skin sensitized to his touch. “She was…” I shrugged. “She was different. If I didn’t know better, I might have thought she was concerned for me.”

“That’s a surprise?”

“Concern from the sister of the evilest creature in existence?” I snorted. “Yeah. We never had a ‘good relationship.’” I even did the air quotes, using a joke to cover up the pain. “Everyone says a mother is supposed to be caring, you know?” Memories tried to surge and I battled them back. “Nurturing. But she… wasn’t.”

“But you’re not like her,” Sam assured me and I still wasn’t sure if I believed it. “You’re a much better mother than she could ever hope to be. You’re taking good care of Bry.”

My throat tightened, the continual worry surging forward. “I’m not. I can’t help him. I can’t make him better. He…”

He was gonna die because I was a failure.

And that… that truth was the needle that popped my emotional bubble. Every tear I’d gathered, every ounce of worry and pain I’d endured, exploded in one preternatural boom. I’d bottled everything, stuffed it deep and covered it up with dirt and stone, never wanting to explore those sensations.

Sam wasn’t giving me a choice. With his passion and soft touches, he destroyed my carefully built fortress.

I tried to hold it back, to put on the brakes and regain my hard-won control. I wasn’t this person. But, apparently, I was.

It started with shaking, trembles that had nothing to do with need and everything to do with holding myself together. I was going to shatter and I knew if that happened, no one would be able to put me together again.

Next came the silent tears, one after another while my chest felt as if it’d been captured in a vice. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think beyond the pain that surged. It turned into sobs, my body jerking with each one, and I found myself clinging to Sam, cheek resting on his shoulder.

His arms wrapped around me, comforting and strong, holding me flush against him. As if to say he was my rock, I could lean on him. Could I?

The question was pointless because the words couldn’t be contained—not any longer. They poured out of my mouth, nonsensical thoughts jumping from one emotional blow to another. I cried over Bryony. How I’d failed him. How I felt no closer to a cure than when we’d begun the search.

I cried for my mother, or rather, for the person I wished she’d been. The kind, nurturing caregiver who never was.

I cried because I’d lost him. Lost him to my own uncle and I still didn’t have him back. Not the way I needed—not the way I wanted.

His arms tightened when I revealed that vulnerability, holding me inexplicably closer. He listened to me babble, stroking my hair and offering me soothing words. His fingers sifted through my strands, a gentle rhythm that eventually had me calming. My tears faded, tracks drying while the hard lump in my throat slowly dissipated.

When I could breathe without panic, the embarrassment set in.

I didn’t break down. I wasn’t the emotional one.

Except, when I looked into Sam’s eyes, I found sympathy and… something else. Maybe love? It was different than the way he’d been over the past few days. While there had been sadness in his eyes, it had been the struggle of a man in pain. I’d seen anger, frustration and violent rage as he unleashed his temper on the people we fought. Even when I’d seen him offer his cleansing to the poor souls who’d been infected, there had been an underlying tension. Like he was angry at himself for losing his path and having to serve penance.

I reached up and cupped his cheek, rubbing my thumb over his scruffy face. That glimmer of real, pure emotion reminded me of the old Sam, the half-fallen, bad boy gel who’d sacrificed his future for me.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded. “I’ve been feeling… different. But I’m all right.”

I spied a flicker in his eyes, as if the red fought to fade back to the stunning blue I’d once known.

“Different how?”

He looked away, shielding his eyes from me.

“Sam?” I wouldn’t let him hide and tugged his head around.

“I…” He took a deep breath. “I’ve been feeling something different. Today, when I was cleansing the lost souls. It was like I could sense them. Almost like I knew who needed me most before I even saw them. It was like…”

Like it used to be. I knew what he meant even if he didn’t say the words aloud.

“That sounds like an angelic thing.” I wasn’t going to let him avoid this.

He shrugged, looking away once more.

A thought occurred to me and I rose to my feet, tugging him after me. I spun my finger in a circle. “Turn around.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Caith, I’m not sure what you’re thinking, but my ass…”

I smacked his chest. “You would if I really wanted it, but that’s not what this is about. Just turn around.”

He did as I asked, presenting me with his back, and I immediately reached for his shirt. I tugged and pushed, exposing the markings that stained his skin. I’d seen them before, over a year ago when he’d branded me as his own and gifted Bry with what was left of his angel’s grace. They looked like tattoos etched from the darkest black ink imaginable. They formed the shape of two detailed wings, spreading from the center of his back to cloak his shoulder blades and extending to the waist of his pants.