The Order Boxed Set (92 page)

“I don’t think—”

“You don’t need to think,” he murmured.

She blinked, swallowed. “I’m going to clean up and get dressed.” She turned and headed for the bathroom. He allowed her to take two steps and he moved fast coming up behind her, pressing her into the smooth wood of the door, pushing up against her so the satin skin of her back touched him from chest to groin.

He nudged his shaft against the curve of her ass.

“Oh.”

He brushed her hair away from her throat, lowered his head to the curve of her neck, and bit down gently.

“Ash, please…”

“I plan to,” he whispered in her ear. He didn’t know whether she meant please release her or please don’t stop. He knew if she asked he would let her go—even in his worst days he’d never raped a woman. But she didn’t resist him.

Her hands were still in front of her clasping the robe and he reached around, plucked it from her fingers, and dropped it to the floor. He circled each of her wrists with his fingers, dragged her arms up, and placed her palms flat on the wall above her head.

“Did you know, in some circles, I’m known as the demon of lust?”

She didn’t answer but her body tightened against him.

“And some say that once you’ve had me, no normal man will ever fulfill you.”

“Talk about delusions of grandeur,” she muttered.

“You think?”

He trailed his fingers down her arms, stroking the silky hollows, then around to her caress the sides of her breasts. She leaned back away from the door so he could slip his hands around her to cup them. His thumb rasped over her nipples, and she moaned low in her throat. He knew then that she wasn’t going to say no. She might not want
him
for anything else, but he would make sure she never wanted any other man for this.

He massaged her small breasts, while his other hand slid down over her stomach, into the silky curls at the base. At the same time, he pushed one leg between her thighs, widening her stance.

He rubbed his shaft up and down the cleft of her ass until she was shoving back against him. His cock craved the feel of her around him and he bent his knees, probed between her thighs and pushed inside her. She was so wet, he slid in easily, and her muscles tightened around him. It felt so good, and the pain and the anger inside him mingled with the pleasure.

She sagged, her hands on the wall stopping her from falling. Wrapping one hand around her waist, he dragged her forward so her ass pointed toward him, and then he withdrew and sank into her again. He kept his movements slow as he slid one hand between her thighs.

She was moaning now, her ass pushing against him, his body curved around her. He grazed his fingers lightly between the folds of her sex, found her swollen nub, and pinched between his finger and thumb. She let out a small scream and he soothed her with light, teasing circles not quite touching where she needed him most. He pinched a second time and she almost came. He went still, and she rubbed against him seeking relief. Only when her breathing slowed did he move again.

He drew out the pleasure until she was sobbing with need in his arms. Part of him wanted to leave her this way. Unsatisfied, craving his touch, needing to come back for more, even if she hated him.

“Please, Ash.”

“Seems as you beg so sweetly.”

He massaged her clit, this time continuing as she teetered on the edge. The quakes of her orgasm shook through her body, and she threw back her head and screamed. Still he played with her, until the screams died to whimpers, then he thrust into her one last time and spilled himself.

But it was an empty victory.

He pulled himself free of her and stepped back. Without his support. Faith collapsed to her knees and knelt, head bent, her hair draping over her face.

“Get dressed,” he said. “We have a meeting to go to.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Faith stared at herself in the mirror. She was a total mess, like she’d just had her brain screwed out. Teeth marks patterned her shoulder, covering the faint scar from the bullet wound. Her heart ached, and she was sore between her thighs—she’d be walking funny for the next few days.

But she’d never dreamed her body could feel like that. Respond like that. She craved him again even now.

That had not gone to plan. She’d hope to save him pain.

It seemed she had miscalculated the depth of his feelings, but she’d panicked. And she’d hurt him. He’d hit back at her in the one way he could because he knew she wanted him. And he was right; she was incapable of refusing him. If he kissed her, she’d melt in his arms.

It was inconceivable—she wasn’t the swooning type.

She’d always thought nice men in suits were her thing. No wonder she’d never been in love before. Then along comes the demon of goddamn lust and she’d fallen like a teenager for the high school hero.

Maybe Christian could do that mind thing on her and she could forget all about Ash for the rest of her short, miserable life.

Everything inside her screamed
no
to that idea.

Though maybe she wouldn’t have a choice. Because they’d said if she didn’t work with them, that was the only alternative. And right now, she did not want to work for them. She wanted to get as far away as possible.

She reeked of sex. If she was going to a meeting, she was showering first. Afterward, she had to put his robe back on. She’d left the clothes Shera had sent in the other room, and she was not putting her old things back on for a third time.

Inching open the bathroom door, she peeked outside. The room appeared empty. She tiptoed across the floor and picked up the bundle of clothes from the chair by the bed.

It turned out to be a dress. Faith couldn’t remember the last time she had worn a dress. Probably before her mother died, though even then she’d always been a tomboy. And never a dress like this. Full-length black silk that slid through her fingers, with gold embroidery around the neck and wrists.

She so did not want to put it on. But there was nothing else and she slipped out of the robe and quickly tugged the dress over her head, shivering as the material grazed her skin. The dress fit perfectly, though the front was way too low, revealing the tops of her breasts almost to the nipple and no doubt giving flashes of teeth marks. Though that was hardly likely to be cause for comment around here.

The external door opened and she jumped and whirled around. Ash stood in the doorway and she had to bite back the pain that threatened to envelope her. She wanted to run to him, except she doubted her shaky legs would carry her.

He made no attempt to hide what he was from her now. He was in what she guessed was his full demon mode. Tall, the black wings furled at his back. He wore tight black pants tucked into long black leather boots, a black shirt with the silver scabbard crossing it diagonally and the tip of his sword showing above his left shoulder. He was totally bad-ass scary, but for some reason he didn’t scare her. If he’d been going to hurt her physically, he would have done so by now. She got the distinct impression that he’d seriously considered the idea.

Maybe he was a monster, but he was one who had total control over his instincts. His expression was impassive, and she tried for the same but was pretty sure she failed. There was no way she could put this right now—what could she say:
I only said you were a monster because I’m dying and I didn’t want to upset you?

No, she would have to see this through.

His eyes dipped down to take in the dress and heat flashed in his gaze. He desired her. Her nipples tightened and no doubt pressed against the thin silk of the dress—she resisted looking down. Sighing, she gave a mental shrug. He was totally aware of the affect he had on her; there wasn’t much point in trying to hide.

But he didn’t say anything, just held out a hand.

“Come.”

She eyes him suspiciously. “Come where?”

“We have a meeting, remember?”

Shit yeah, between coming out of the bathroom and seeing Ash, she’d forgotten everything except the feel of his big body inside her, his hands on her…

As she took a hesitant few steps, the silk swished against her thighs and rubbed over her nipples. Ash gave a frown of impatience. Pausing, she scowled. She was getting fed up with the attitude. So she might have misjudged, but after all, she had only said the monster thing for his benefit. Even if he wasn’t aware of that.

A little headache nagged at the back of her skull. The doctor had said to take it easy—no stress and no excessive physical activity. She glanced at the bed. Had that been excessive? No—actually not nearly enough.

“Today would be good.” Ash interrupted her thoughts.

“I never thought you were a sarcastic bastard.”

He gave a tight smile. “But as you pointed out, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

She sighed and took the last steps. Taking a deep breath, she slid her hand into his. As soon as he had hold of her, he dragged her against him and picked her up in his arms. He held her against his chest, but in a standoffish sort of way, and she didn’t feel comfortable enough to lay her head against his chest.

“I can walk, you know.”

“But you can’t fly.”

He strode out of the room, straight through the double doors and onto the balcony that ran around the tower. Without giving her a moment to say,
I think I’d rather take the stairs,
he spread his great black wings and launched himself off the edge of the tower.

And she was flying. Again.

This time, the journey took seconds. Ash landed lightly in front of yet another set of double doors. He put her down without a word, pushed open the doors, and disappeared inside. She stared after him for a moment, then down at the dress. Ryan was going to piss himself laughing.

Oh well.

The doors led into what she presumed was a Hellish equivalent of a meeting room. They were in a round room at the base of the tower.

A circle of chairs faced into the middle of the room. All the same, except one—much bigger than the others. Ash headed straight for it but paused by Tara. He pulled the talisman from around his neck and handed it to her. He murmured some low words and she smiled up at him. It seemed like things were warming up between the two of them. Faith was glad. He continued across the room and sat down, long booted legs stretched out in front of him. The chair must have been built for him to accommodate his size and the wings, which folded neatly behind him.

She looked around at the rest of the chairs, Christian, Tara, and Ryan. They were all watching her with various expressions of amusement and she scowled again. It was becoming her perpetual expression. She stalked over and took the chair next to Ryan.

“Nice dress,” Ryan said.

She sniffed.

He grinned. “You’re a combination of total mess and sexy as hell. No prizes for guessing what you two have been up to.”

“Piss off, Ryan.”

“You know you’re supposed to feel all relaxed and mellow right about now. Why am I getting the impression that romance is not blooming in Hell?”

“You are so funny. Not.”

“And Our Lord Asmodai isn’t too happy either.”

Faith gave him a quick peek. He was sitting, hands resting on his thighs, eyes narrowed as he stared from her to Ryan.

“I bet he ordered you to call him ‘My lord’ or ‘Master’ and got all pissy when you told him to go to Hell.”

“A bit pointless considering we’re already here,” she snapped.

“Yeah, I hadn’t thought of that. I’ll have to think of somewhere else to go to.”

Her lips curled into an involuntary smile. Ryan had always been able to drag her out of her darker moods.

“Can we get on,” Ash drawled giving them a pointed look. Faith wiped the smile from her face and shifted in the chair trying to get comfortable, but she was sore.

Ryan opened his mouth to say something and she glared. He shut it again.

Christian rose to his feet. “They’re gone for now. But we need to find a way to get them off our backs and Roz’s for good.”

“Does anyone know where Piers and Roz are,” Ash asked.

“No idea, and no way to contact them. We thought it best. But Piers will check in at some point.”

“So we need to either offer Raphael something he wants more. Or threaten him with something he wants even less than an abomination on the loose.”

“Don’t call her that,” Tara said.

Ash grinned. “I’m sure Roz has been called worse.”

He’d said there wasn’t anything between him and Roz, but there was real affection in his voice. She wasn’t sure she liked that. She rubbed at the back of head, trying to ease the tension and sensed Ryan watching her.

“Are you all right?” he whispered when she cast him a sideways glance.

“So-so.” The rest of the painkillers were in her pants pocket on the floor of Ash’s bathroom. She had a feeling she’d need them soon. Little black dots were dancing in front of her eyes.

“Any ideas?” Christian said.

She felt like she didn’t belong here. What could she offer to this discussion? She was in too deep and way out of her depth. Why had Ash even brought her here?

She felt like wailing,
I want to go home.
But it wouldn’t be true. Her apartment had never felt like a true home. Just a place to keep her things. She hadn’t had a home since her mother died.

God. She was wallowing in self-pity, and that never did any good. But she couldn’t seem to shift it. She glanced up and found Ash watching her, a small frown on his face and she flashed him a patently false smile.

He looked away. “I say we lure Raphael to a meeting and we kill the fucker.”

Faith told herself that he didn’t really mean that. He was trying to shock her. He wouldn’t really kill an angel. Would he? Then she had a thought. The colonel had said the new boss was called Raphael. She shook her head. It couldn’t be anything but a coincidence and she didn’t want to interrupt them. But she’d mention it to Ash after the meeting. If he was still talking to her.

“Only as a last resort,” Christian said.

Shit, so maybe he had meant it.

“The meeting part is good though. Maybe we could try and arrange that and see how inflexible they are on this.”