Guild Hunter 01 - Angels' Blood

with your lips wrapped around my cock, I would care a great deal.”
    The image made tiny inner muscles tighten in damp readiness. “How come guys always think of women going down on them? How about the other way around?”
    Cobalt lightning, hands sliding down, thumbs rubbing along the inner crease of each thigh. “Take off your pants.”
    Her stomach clenched.“We have a killer to discuss.”
    “But you want to forget.”
    “You haven’t answered my question.” Breathless words, her body so hungry.
    “I choose not to sleep with Michaela because I have no liking for black widows. Her poisonous whispers probably helped drive Uram to this.”
    She sat up, gripping his forearms. “This? What is this?”
    His thumbs continued to move, touching the very edge of exquisitely sensitive flesh that ached for a harder, deeper caress. “You don’t need to know.”
    A flash of fury overlaid the lust. “I can’t work blind.”
    “Treat him as a vampire, the most dangerous vampire in the known universe.” One of his thumbs pressed against her clitoris. “Now, take off your pants.”
    She fought to draw in air. “Fat chance. Tell me about Uram.”
    He pushed closer, his wings brushing her knees. Then, to her disappointment, he moved one of his hands . . . only to thrust it up under her T-shirt.
    Her heart ricocheted around her chest as he cupped her breast, but she forced out the words. “Why can I scent him now when I couldn’t before?”
    Raphael slid his hand off her breast, back over her thigh and to her knee. The other hand he slid below her own arm to place palm down behind her, his biceps brushing her breast. “Because”—he lifted her leg, hooking it around his waist as he pulled her forward—“he drew first blood.” Their lower bodies came into direct contact and she couldn’t help it. She moaned.
    “But,” she said through the haze, “I wasn’t able to scent Erik, the just-Made vamp.”
    “I misled you at the time, Elena. Both Bernal and Erik were Made around the same time—but Bernal was allowed to feed, while Erik wasn’t, not until after the test.”
    That Raphael had been able to curb the bloodhunger of one of the just-Made was another example of his sheer power, but Erik wasn’t the one she wanted to talk about. “Why? Why did Uram turn vampire?”
    “He’s still an archangel.” Rocking her against him, he shoved up her T-shirt, bent his head, and bit her nipple through her bra.
    She jerked, pulling at his hair. “Stop that.” But he was sucking now and oh, damn, it felt good. Like he’d be the best sex she’d ever imagined, much less had. “Raphael.”
    He raised his head. “I’ll give you a choice.”
    She pushed her T-shirt back into place, feeling way too vulnerable. Her nipple ached in the most sexual way. “Yeah?”
    “Either I splay you out on the table and drive my cock into you, or—”
    “—or?” She wanted to snuggle up to him, taste the tendons in his neck.
    “Or, I splay you out on the table and lick you to your pleasure, then drive into you.”
    “Gee.” She was having trouble thinking past the needy pulse between her legs. “I choose option c .”
    He settled her back against his erection with the arm around her back. “There is no option c .”
    Oh, to hell with it. She leaned in and grazed that beautiful throat with her teeth. A girl had to live. His arm tightened as she sucked, as she tasted. Then he said, “Does option c involve you sucking on other parts of my anatomy?”
    Damn, but the archangel could be sexy when he wasn’t in a killing frame of mind. Giving a last, regretful lick, she pushed away. “I’m not fucking you, not until you tell me the truth about Uram.”
    Something dark crawled across his face. “Sexual blackmail, Elena?”
    She snorted. “You treat me like a pet. Go fetch the bad archangel/vampire/whatever the fuck he is, Ellie, but don’t you dare ask me why. It’d be too much for your little human head.” Dropping the saccharine-sweet tone, she glared. “I don’t sleep with men who think I’m a brainless twit.”
    That lethal darkness turned to amusement but she was aware she was skating a razor-thin edge. Raphael was indulging her for reasons of his own. The archangel who’d forced her to close her hand over a knife blade was also Raphael and she’d do well to remember that—no matter how badly she lusted after him.
    “The more you know,” he said, “the bigger a liability you become.”
    “I already