Guild Hunter 01 - Angels' Blood

him, she ran her fingers over the part of the wing she’d destroyed. The sensation was . . . “So soft,” she murmured, and yet she could feel considerable muscle and strength behind it. The warm vitality of it was a living pulse that beckoned her to continue stroking. When she lifted away her hands, reluctant to stop but knowing she had to, the tips of her fingers glittered. “Angel dust.”
    “Taste it.”
    She looked up, vividly conscious of the wings closing around her. “Taste?”
    “Why do you think humans pay a fortune for it?”
    “I thought it was a status thing—you know, look at my vial of angel dust, it’s bigger than yours.” She stared at the brilliant sparkles coating the tips of her fingers. “It tastes good?”
    “Some call it a drug.”
    She froze with her index finger close to her lips. “As in befuddle my mind?”
    “No, it has no narcotic or other effect on the brain. It’s simply the taste.”
    She met those beautiful, dangerous eyes and knew he could tempt her into hell itself. “Maybe this is your revenge?” Flicking out her tongue, she took a careful taste.
    Ambrosia.
    A shudder vibrated through her body, her toes curled, and she almost purred. “Wow, orgasm on a stick.” And a good orgasm at that. “You go around shedding this stuff?” A tendril of jealousy snaked its way up her body. She crushed it, telling herself she was going to add Big in front of her Idiot tattoo. “Guess it’s a power trip to see mortals scrambling for it.”
    His lips curved. “Oh, this is a special blend for you.” Taking one of the fingers she hadn’t licked, he rubbed it along her lips. “What we usually shed is apparently comparable to the most delicious of chocolates or the finest of wines. Decadent, rich, and very expensive.”
    She told herself she wasn’t going to lick the glitter off her lips. “And this blend?” The taste was inside her mouth without her having any knowledge of taking it in. And Raphael was incredibly close, his wings creating a white gold wall around them, his hands strong and warm on her hips. “What’s so special about it?”
    “This blend,” he murmured, bending his head, “is about sex.”
    She put her hands on his chest but it wasn’t a protest. After the blood, the fear, she needed to touch him, to know this glorious creature existed. “Another form of mind control?”
    He shook his head, his mouth a hairbreadth from hers. “It is only fair.”
    “Fair?” She flicked her tongue along his lower lip. It made his hands clench on her hips.
    “If I licked you between your thighs, your taste would have the same aphrodisiac effect on me.”

22
     
    No woman on the planet could’ve resisted the sexual heat of Raphael at that moment. “Is this your idea of refueling?” she murmured, biting down softly on his lower lip.
    His arms slid around her. “Sex and power have always been connected.” And then he kissed her.
    Her feet lifted up on tiptoe as she tried to get closer. His arms crushed her to his chest, his wings blocking out the world as she gripped his shirt and tried not to drown under the overload of pleasure. That erotic, aphrodisiac angel dust seemed to be sinking into her pores through every inch of exposed skin, snaking through her body to collect in the hot, aching place between her thighs, the excess flowing through her body in a rush of liquid heat. Her breasts ached, her lips craved him.
    “How’s the power generation going?” she gasped when he let her up for air.
    His eyes were still as dark but sparks of electric blue glittered in the depths. “Exquisitely.”
    Her reply was lost in the fury of his next kiss. Under her hands, his chest was hard, sculptured, hot. She wanted to shape, to taste, to pet. Stroking up, she found the collar of his shirt, and slid one hand inside to lie against his shoulder. His reaction was to grip her bottom with one hand and raise her so the hard ridge of his erection pressed against the vee of her thighs.
    There was nothing removed or angelic about him at that moment. He was pure sexy, gorgeous male. And strong, so beautifully strong it made her feel feminine to the core. For the first time in her life, she didn’t have to hold back her hunter strength. That was a little-known fact about hunters who were born, not trained. They were stronger than an ordinary human, more likely to survive an encounter with a pissed-off vamp.
    “Good,” was Raphael’s only reaction when she wrapped both legs