Rage and Redemption (Rebel Angels) (16 page)

They landed with a muted thud and Naomi gasped. Her back pressed against something soft as Gideon came down on top of her. She cried out again, blinking frantically.

She could see nothing.

The dense, cloying void pressed in on her, suffocating her. “Gideon,” she whimpered. “Light a lamp.”

He straddled her hips, his body arched over hers, but she couldn’t see him. Reaching out blindly, she found his chest and the loose strands of his long hair.

“Please,” she said urgently. “I’m frightened.”

“This is what I see, Naomi,” he snarled. “This is the world in which I live.”

His mouth found hers effortlessly in the darkness. She squirmed, clutching his shoulders and closing her eyes against the oppressive lack of light.

He wanted her to be frightened—because she had frightened him. The realization soothed her, allowed her to think.

She pushed her fingers into his hair and responded to his kiss. Desire could only be a punishment if she allowed him to use it against her.

Stroking her tongue over his, she heard his throaty groan. She arched, pressing her breasts against his chest. She touched his cheek with her fingertips and traced his jaw, slowing the kiss, making it gentle.

“Stop it,” he said, pushing her away.

A torch flared to life high on the stone wall.

“Where are we?” She lay on a pile of furs but there was nothing else in the windowless room.

“In the undercrofts of the castle.” He took her hands and pressed them into the furs above her head. “This is where I sleep while sunlight rules the earth.”

“Why have you brought me here?” She met his gaze with manufactured calm.

“I thought it would be more comfortable than one of the tables in the scriptorium.”

He wouldn’t hurt her. This was a game to him. If she didn’t want him, he wouldn’t force… She licked her lips.

But she did want him. How could she possibly resist him when she wanted him as badly as he desired her?

“You made me look into the light, to feel the pain of all I have lost. It’s your turn, Naomi. Are you ready for the darkness?”

Gideon sealed his mouth over hers before she could respond. His hands tightened around her wrists as he slowly sank his tongue into her mouth. She stiffened beneath him but gradually she accepted the bold thrust and tilted her head, fitting their mouths together more securely.

Damn her! She was supposed to resist, to be appalled by his black soul. Where was her terror? Why did she sigh so sweetly and accept his aggression, arch into his touch?

Tearing his mouth away from hers, he stared down into her flushed face. “Do you doubt that I will take you?” The words ground out raw and anguished.

“I doubt that you will hurt me.” Her eyes were wide and luminous in the torchlight.

“Then you are a fool.” He needed his anger. Without his rage there was nothing.

He dragged her to her knees, unclasped her metal girdle and yanked her clothing off over her head. She gasped and said his name in a soft, plaintive whisper, but she made no move to cover her body.

She knelt there naked but for her sandals. Her thick braid trailed over one shoulder and down into the valley between her high, rounded breasts. Her arms remained at her sides, leaving her feminine curls visible. Torchlight danced across her silken skin, taunting him, tormenting him.

He shed his own clothing with the same urgency and watched her eyes widen. Ah, there it was. He finally smelled fear. Now she would grab her garments and race from the room.

But she didn’t move. She stared at him, her expression uncertain yet tender.

“You aren’t the monster you would have me believe,” she said softly, her lips trembling. “Or if you are, you need not remain so.”

He should shove her to her back, thrust to the hilt and feed from her breast. That would show her what sort of monster resided within him.

Panting for breath, he pulled her to him and pressed her body to his. He circled her waist with his arm, cupped her cheek with his other hand and dragged her scent deeply into his lungs.

“I
am
a monster. Never doubt it.”

She started to argue but he silenced her with his mouth. She needed to understand the scope of his darkness, see clearly how dangerous it was to trust him.

He lifted her slightly and turned her away from him. Still on their knees, he pulled her hands behind her back and held them there in one fist while his other hand cupped her breast.

“I want to touch you,” he said, moving his hand to her other breast. “So I will touch you.”

Her head dropped back onto his shoulder and she moaned. “You’re not a monster,” she whispered stubbornly.

He rolled her nipple, plucking one and then the other until they were hard, distinct peaks. Each sharp little gasp, each jump and quiver of her flesh sent heated thrills darting through his body.

“How do you like the darkness so far?” he taunted her, sucking a patch of skin at the base of her throat so forcefully he knew she’d bear his mark.

She shifted against him restlessly. He threaded his fingers through her feminine curls and pulled her backward, pressing his aching cock against her buttocks.

Gideon groaned. “Shall I take you now, Naomi? Shall I bend you forward and sink into your wet—”

“Stop it.” She jerked away from him but he still held her hands at the small of her back. Her sudden movement rocked her forward, nearly into the position he had described. “You will not hurt me.” She no longer sounded certain.

Good.

“You’re a virgin, sweetheart. Pain is unavoidable the first time—but the second and the third…”

“You will not take me against my will. You are not a monster.”

She sounded desperate not defiant.

Gideon nearly let her go but his middle finger slipped between her folds and he felt the moist heat awaiting him. “Oh Naomi,” he murmured.

He released her hands and rotated her body, quickly laying her back against the furs. She struggled madly, but in an instant he had his legs wedged between hers and her arms pinned above her head.

“Still doubt that I’ll hurt you, little girl?”

Her wide unblinking eyes stared up at him as he arched over her body. All he had to do was thrust home. He knew she was afraid but he couldn’t define the other emotions twisting in her tear-bright gaze. Shifting both her wrists to one hand, he touched her face. Her breath escaped in a ragged whimper.

His fingers curled around her neck and his mouth settled over hers. She didn’t respond to his kiss, remaining passive and distant beneath him. It became a challenge. He traced her trembling lips with his tongue and only ventured deeper when he knew she wouldn’t bite him.

“Kiss me, Naomi,” he said coaxingly. “Know my taste.”

Tentatively she touched her tongue to his. He released her hands and slipped his arm under her neck. Supporting himself on his forearm and his knees, he deepened the kiss. She raised her arms, slipping one hand into his hair and exploring his shoulder with the other. She responded, eagerly stroking him, feeling and tasting him.

Her uninhibited touch thrilled him, encouraged him. He cupped her breast, framing her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She made a soft, urgent sound as he dragged his mouth from hers and his body clenched in response, throbbing painfully. He dipped lower and captured her waiting nipple. She cried out.

Distracting her with his mouth, he moved his hand between her thighs. He had to touch the heart of her, if only with his fingers.

He pushed his middle finger between her folds and she trembled. He slid up and down, teasing without entering her body. She grabbed his wrist.

He nipped her breast in silent warning. “Let me,” he whispered.

“I should not.”

“But you will.”

Her hand moved to the back of his head, anchoring him against her breast. Gideon focused on the softness of her sex, enjoying the silky texture and the heat. She tossed her head against the furs, her legs shaking. The scent of her arousal was nearly more than he could bear.

He lifted his head to watch her face. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted. She arched her back, thrusting her breasts upward. He couldn’t resist the invitation. Lowering his head again, he sucked firmly, circling her nipple with his tongue.

She clung to him, her neck bowed, offering more of her silky skin for his mouth to explore.

Feeling for her opening, his finger butted up against the thin membrane humans valued so highly. The urge to thrust through it slammed into him, making him shake.

Instead he searched with his thumb until he found the swollen nub that made her tremble. He circled it gently and her fingernails bit into his shoulder.

“Don’t fight it,” he coaxed. “Let it come.”

He changed the motion of his hand, combining the circular stroking of his thumb with the steady slide of his fingers.

Dark hunger stirred ruthlessly within him. Her scent wrapped around him like incense and he felt his fangs distend.

No! He could not do this.

You are not a monster.
Her soft voice called to him through the darkness.

Her body tensed as her climax washed over her. Gideon squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back his urgent need. He raised his face and absorbed the torchlight. But it was too late. A raw cry tore from his mouth and he sank his fangs into her throat.

Gideon’s heart thundered in his chest as Naomi slumped to the furs in front of him.

What have I done?

His body hummed with pleasure so intense it was nearly painful. And the taste of her blood still coated his tongue. He covered his face with his hands and cried out, howling in anguish and fury.

What have I done!

Not trusting himself to touch her, he tossed his hair out of his eyes and bent over her. He waited for the stirring of her breath against his cheek, his own breath trapped within his lungs.

A faint, warm puff finally came and relief shook his entire body. He hadn’t killed her.

He angrily batted at the tear hovering at the corner of his eye. Lifting her into his arms, he sealed the wound he had made in her neck and cradled her against his chest. Her skin was cold, her lips blue.

The dichotomy within him stretched and pulled until he felt as if his physical body would be torn in two. He clutched her to his chest, buried his face in her hair and rocked her gently like a child.

How could he have lost control?

You’re not a monster.

The echo of her stubborn assurance brought a new wave of guilt crashing over him. He stared down at her pale features, aching with the need to protect her—from himself. His hand trembled as he brushed hair off her brow. He loathed the creature he had become.

Or if you are, you need not remain so…

He couldn’t allow her to remember this abomination. Where should he take her? She would be weak and confused when she woke.