Demon Angel

slick heat.
    "Please, Hugh." And that seemed torn from her as well, but he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, focused on the feel of her beneath his hand instead of the delicious, tortuous rasp of smooth scales and burning softness against his cock. "Please," she moaned as he plucked at her clit, as the first tremors shuddered through her. "Please," as her back arched, as her inner muscles clenched around his fingers, as her wings stretched wide and fluttered, vibrated.
    His chest heaved, his skin drawn tight and hot as she relaxed against his forearm. Then she moved, rising and arching with another shuddering gasp, and the movement lodged him between her thighs, the head of his shaft pressing against his fingers, still buried within her. He tensed, shaking. Just one more moment of selfishness, he wouldn't…
    He wouldn't.
    But he withdrew his hand, slid forward with a groan. Heat, hot, hellfire, and only around the very tip of him, but it clasped him, drew him in. Only an inch, now two, but it was the most exquisite burning. "Lilith," he said, his eyes closing, his voice pleading. "Deny me." For I can not deny myself .
    She could; their wager was done, he had gained what he'd wanted—her release, and it had torn him apart, that facade of kindness, of right; no good man would do this. Yet she didn't push him away, held herself still as he worked slowly deeper, deeper.
    He felt huge within that tight silken grip, powerful as she yielded and stretched around him. Bowing his head, he thrust all the way in, trembling. He'd used the devil's tools, and they'd worked on him in turn, made him this. Or he had always been this. Tears stung, and he opened his eyes, blinked them away. "Lily—"
    "Again. Do it again." A sobbing breath. "If you are going to destroy me, then don't make me settle for half."
    He hesitated, and she gripped the top of the door with both hands, lifted herself. The dragging slide of her withdrawal ripped a moan from his throat, and he pushed her back down; unbearable to be outside her. Another long stroke. And again— deep, hard. Her scales rippled, smooth pale skin fading in and out. She cried out her triumph, her pleasure, and he gave himself over to his own, whatever it meant he was.
    Only certain that he was hers.
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CHAPTER 22
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    He wore the robe.
    There was nothing left of his clothing but shreds on her apartment floor; he left them behind—the wool was better suited for flying through rain, anyway.
    She held him securely against her, cradling him as if he were an overgrown child. He'd carried her thus once, when a nosferatu had torn her throat out and left her too weak to fight or fly on her own. Panicked, he'd clutched her to his chest until he'd found a Healer—Colin's friend—one of the Guardians Hugh had been mentoring. If that Guardian had refused to heal her, Hugh might have killed him—but it had not come to that, and he'd never been tested in that way again. Perhaps he should have been; it had only taken two hundred years to forget that panic, to shove it deep inside himself, and forget how it had tortured him to see her hurt. "I should drop you."
    "Aye," he agreed. He would have agreed to anything she said, so long as she spoke to him. After her last, shuddering cry, everything she'd said had been a threat. But they'd been without force or anger, as if her vulnerability was a surprise—as if she were as frightened by her loss of control as he was his.
    It was a fear he welcomed.
    Below, the streetlamps along Haight Street guided them through the city toward Colin's house; they had to fly below the cloud cover to see them—risky, though the chance of detection was slim. "It was a good tactic, the diversion you created at Beaumont Court to save Colin's sister."
    "It wasn't to save her," she said. "I enjoyed skewering you. I should do it again."
    He rubbed his chest, remembering. "The nosferatu didn't expect it."
    "Nor did you."
    "No." He smiled. "Your letter from Polidori was not so successful a diversion."
    "I should drop you," she said again, but her arms tightened.
    Colin looked at Hugh and grimaced. "Good God, the horror. I'm too ashamed to invite you in."
    Lilith pushed past them both, striding through the door and into the foyer. "Be ashamed then. And find him something to wear; something warm, as he's probably freezing. He's always freezing," she said on a mutter. Hugh began laughing, and she hastily added, "That thing doesn't fit him anymore. It