Reap & Repent (13 page)

Deacon stood at the edge of the bed and pulled his shirt up and over his head before letting it drop to the floor. Ruth stared. Hard. The candlelight reflected off his taut, tanned chest, and the delicate silver cross hanging from the chain around his neck. This man was amazing, no doubt about it. All she had to compare him to were the models and actors in magazines and movies, but real-life flesh and blood was better.

Way, way better.

He undid the top button of his fly and unzipped. Kicking off his shoes, he stepped out of his socks and then his jeans. Her heart raced with possibility, and all he had done was undress…and give her a promise.

We’re not coming out until morning.

She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be doing, but couldn’t avert her eyes from him, not even for a second, so she watched…and waited. On the one hand, she knew this situation was insane and one hundred percent foolish. On the
other, who the hell cared? This was the first and only man she’d ever met who didn’t have an aura. If this wasn’t fate, then what the hell was it?

“Your turn,” he said, crawling onto the bed to lie beside her. The thunder crashed much closer this time, and the first drops of rain hit the metal roof of the house.

Deacon reached for the bottom of her T-shirt and lifted it over her head. She had the giddy feeling of déjà vu, but this time, she was determined to keep her big mouth shut.

He dispatched with her bra, then lay down beside her, propped up on one elbow as he delicately traced a hand across her stomach and breasts, paying careful attention to each new area as he discovered it. She closed her eyes and luxuriated in his touch. Starved for contact, a wispy moan escaped her and tears welled in her eyes.

What was up with all the waterworks lately?

She was full of emotions—they spilled out in an unstoppable flood of need and frustration. She writhed on the bed, her body aching as she tried to will him closer. Faster. More. Placing his warm hand on her waist, he pulled her against his body: he was a human inferno. When their skin touched and her chest brushed his, a warmth let go inside her as she fought the urge to wrap her legs around him.

He leaned in, kissed her lips, and she abandoned herself to him. Any vestige of self-control vanished. She moaned again, and he worked the waistband of her shorts until they were loose. Sliding his hand inside them, over the top of her panties, he cupped her core and smiled down at her.

“You’re wet for me,” he whispered in her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “I like that.”

“Mmm” was all she managed in reply.

His palm pressed urgently against her and that small pressure alone was almost enough to break her. She wasn’t so naive that she’d never experienced release before. Just never with another person.

“Oh, God,” she moaned.

So much for not talking!

“If you like that…then you’re gonna love this,” he said, kissing his way along her stomach to the top of her shorts. “May I?”

“Yes,” she said breathily. She had a vague idea of what he had in mind. But no matter what it was, she was on board.

He slid her shorts down and flung them across the room. Ruth see-sawed her legs against the comforter in anticipation and tried to sit up, eager for a better view and for more contact.

“Not yet.” He kissed her mouth again until she submitted and lay back against the bed.

Hovering over her, he worked his way down her torso, trailing kisses along her ribs with agonizing precision until she pleaded for relief. Teasing her, he pinched her panties between his fingers and eased them down her legs, flinging them in the general direction of her shorts.

With his tongue, he traced a fire-hot trail beneath her belly button, and goose bumps sprang up across her flesh. His tongue was hot syrup across her skin.
He palmed both her thighs and spread her open, brushing his rough cheek against the inside of her legs.

“Beautiful.”

Ruth blushed. She was going to have to take his word for that, but she was happy to have his approval. He ran a trail of scorching kisses up and down the inside of both thighs, and she couldn’t help but moan and wriggle with each one. Her reaction seemed to encourage him, and he teased and caressed her until she cried out in anguish.

Stroking his thumb over her hard nub, he slid his fingers inside her. Ruth’s body took over for her mind as she arched back and drove her body against him.

“Please,” she begged, desperate for her needy body to be filled.

He leaned his face down, close to her thighs, and she tried to concentrate on what was happening, but it was all a blur of passion and sensations. Her mind refused to be still. When his hot, slick tongue slid into her core, she lost the ability to think at all. The one coherent thought that stuck with her was the mantra that kept repeating in her mind.

More! More! More!

She clutched at the quilt under her and bunched it up in her fists, pushing herself against his mouth, her body begging him for relief. Grabbing her hips with iron-strong hands, he held her in place as she tried her best to take what she needed from him at a faster pace.

Deacon would not be rushed. He worked at her core slow and methodically, laving her with his mouth and tongue until she was on the edge of
insanity. Her heart raced and her inhibitions and embarrassment vanished. The thunder and lightning continued, loud and persistent, punctuating each stroke of his amazing tongue.

Slowing the pace, he licked his way up her torso as she lay panting, desperate to clear her head. It was no use. She was lost.

Consumed.

Ruth knew what she wanted. She reached for him, pulling him down beside her.

She wanted to climb on top of this man. She wanted to rub her body along the length of him and feel him on every inch of her skin, and then she wanted him inside her.

Oh, definitely that!

Lowering herself across him, she kissed his mouth, his face, along his collarbone then down, down, down that beautiful chest. Closing her eyes, she stroked her wet sex over the length of his erection. A shiver raced up her spine, and her heart throbbed at a brisk rate in her ears. It felt so wonderful, and she couldn’t stop herself. Inexperienced as she was, she still knew what felt good, and when her core made contact with him, a flame ignited within her. Rubbing her frantic body against his, her pleasure built. Before she could finish what she had started, he flipped her onto her back again and covered her with his entire body, his hard length pressing against her in all the right places.

“Let’s do this properly,” he said, spreading her legs with his knee.

She had a moment of lucidity as he hovered over her with naked, unflinching desire in his eyes. Her own wide eyes asked the question she couldn’t bring herself to voice, desperate not to ruin the moment again.

“Don’t worry,” he said, stroking between her legs with his shaft. “I can’t get you pregnant like this. It takes months of not traveling the consecrated subway for the conditions to be right for pregnancy. I’m clean, and you’re safe.”

That was all she needed or wanted to hear. Guiding his shaft up against her entrance, she was wet and ready. He pushed the head of his length into her in one slow, all-consuming drive. As he passed her entrance, she felt herself close around him, her muscles clenching in an effort to hold him in. The fullness there was wonderful and overwhelming. She prayed for him not to tease her by withdrawing. Abandonment now would be worse than torture.

“Ohhhh,” she gasped.

“Too much?” he asked.

“More!” she demanded.

Deacon pushed into her, past her tight entrance, and then filled her in one long stroke, burying his length inside her warm hold. She wrapped her legs around the backs of his thighs without hesitation, and held him inside her lest he try to leave her body too soon.

He chuckled kindly. “It will be even better if you let me move.”

Trusting him, she unclenched her legs. He drew himself away from her and nearly out, and then plunged into her again and again.

Ruth feared she would cease to exist at any moment. Completely consumed, she abandoned her body to the pleasure he was bestowing upon her with every tiny touch and fluctuation. Each stroke brought her closer and closer to the precipice, and when he fondled a thumb over her hard, aching nub, his length still encased deep inside her, she came unhinged.

Crying out, she grasped hold of the quilt and threw back her head. Wave after wave of pleasure cascaded through her, rendering her stiff and immobile save the tiny tremors coursing through her now useless body.

Deacon rode the wave with her, pumping faster and faster into her still-quivering body. His face and neck muscles grew taut as he reached his peak as well, releasing into her in a fiery flood and then collapsing against her. She curled an arm and leg around him possessively, making sure that he’d stay put. Feeling his heart pound wildly against his chest pleased her even more than experiencing her own pleasure. It was real physical evidence that he was as excited and satisfied as she was.

“Thank you,” she said, refusing to release her hold on him.

“My pleasure.” He kissed her, deep and thoroughly.

Rebirth.

This was the beginning of a whole new life. Even though Deacon had come to her in the strangest possible way and with a whole new world of danger and problems, he’d also brought amazing possibilities and excitement into her once staid life.

Deacon eased out of her. Rolling off the bed, he walked naked into the bathroom. She suppressed an admiring moan as he crossed the room. The man was beautiful. Returning with a warm, wet washcloth and a towel, he attempted to clean her, but she squirmed and giggled under his ministrations.

When he snuggled up against her back, his arms wrapped around her protectively, it brought a smile to her lips in the darkness. She glanced at the clock: 4:45 a.m. It would be light in an hour. She wasn’t sure what the next day would hold. But she wasn’t a virgin anymore, and there was a beautiful man lying next to her in her bed who made her feel safe and loved for the first time in…ever. A warmth twined around her heart, and it felt dangerously close to happiness.

She fell asleep listening to the rain tap, tap, tap on the roof and thunder roll on eastward.

Chapter Fourteen

Deacon barely slept. His skin and nerves felt raw and alive as he held Ruth. Making love to her had been a gift. He’d had many women in his long life, but never had he experienced the tenderness he felt toward Ruth. If he’d been conflicted and distracted by her before they made love, he was utterly consumed by her now. Distracted did not even begin to cover it.

He clung to her in the darkness, making sure as much of his body touched hers as possible. It had surprised him the way she’d taken charge, knowing she was a virgin.

Was.

He had never knowingly deflowered a virgin. So in a way, it was a first for him, as well. He was not disappointed. He already craved her body again. How he would get through an entire day without her touch, without tasting her hourly, he had no idea.

He would have to find a way. He had preparations to make and work to do. Tracking down Kylen was first on that list.

Determined to make sure Ruth was protected before that happened, he decided that it was time for a serious crash-course training routine.

She was stronger than she thought, but she needed more confidence, and she needed to learn how to defend herself. As it was, she wouldn’t stand a chance against the demon alone. Deacon would have to make sure she
wasn’t
alone. Ever again.

All the demon needed was an opening, and once he got it, he wouldn’t hesitate to take it. Deacon didn’t want to kill his friend, but he’d tried to find a way to save him for a century. Without the demon’s name, it was hopeless. He’d exhausted every avenue, and he’d be doing Kylen a favor by setting him free. Had the circumstances been reversed, Deacon would have expected the same of Kylen. In fact, they’d once made a pact to that effect, but when it had come down to it, Deacon hadn’t been able to follow through. Now, he had no other choice.

Losing another love would be intolerable. If he had to kill his best friend to ensure Ruth’s safety, he would. Trading love of one sort for another was ironic, but in all of the ways that mattered, Kylen was dead anyway. His body was a tool and mode of transportation for the demon: a suit to be worn. The state of his soul was the one remaining question mark, but there was no way of determining that while the demon inhabited him.

* * *

The morning dawned gray and dreary, but Deacon woke Ruth in the happiest way. She was sore from their earlier pursuits, but it was a pain to which she hoped to become accustomed.

Apparently naked men were more than happy to wake up next to a naked woman in the morning. She would have been pleased to have a repeat performance of their marathon last night, but they ended up enjoying only an appetizer instead. Still hungry for more, she wondered if it was possible to become a sex addict after one night. Maybe sex was like meth or heroin were for some people—one hit and you were hooked.

Deacon patiently explained why they couldn’t lie in bed naked all day making love, at least not today. He promised they could soon. She would hold him to that.

They showered separately because otherwise they would have just ended up back in bed, and Deacon was intent on giving Ruth her first day of on-the-job training. Nervous but excited by the prospect of gaining some semblance of control over her life, she was game.

Heck, she would be glad to
have
a life. These past few days had turned her safe little world upside down. She was relieved to finally feel as if she was on a path that led
somewhere
and not on a treadmill passing time.

At last, it appeared, she had a job. Even better perhaps: a purpose.

Deacon finished first, and then Ruth primped in the bathroom. She had never been too concerned with her appearance before, opting for invisibility whenever possible. Often she wore her wild, unkempt hair in a ponytail or under a baseball cap if she had to go out.