Page 25 of Shadow & Stars
I quivered, my cock springing to life. “Day or night.”
He let out a soft chuckle before his lips connected with mine. Delicate, wet, a confirmation of our current status. I responded with a gentle moan, my hands finding the back of his head, pulling him in closer, the kiss deepening, our lips working together in perfect harmony, our tongues meeting in a soft wrestle.
Roman moaned back, shuffling closer, his hands on both my thighs. Sliding closer and closer to my hardness. The anticipation upped my temperature, made me kiss him harder. The moment he made contact with my cock would be the moment I tore his clothes off. No holding back, resistance dead.
I already pictured him above me, riding me, never breaking eye contact until his eyes rolled back as he cried my name in ecstasy.
Not here.
Not now.
Hands moving closer. Fingertips inches away. My robe and his grubby clothes were the only things between us. Easily cast aside.
I moaned into him, kissing him harder, ready to throw caution to the wind. Our current situation didn’t matter. Only our pleasure did, and this impeding union of our flesh.
He wants me.
I want him.
I cannot resist you any longer…
Before I lost myself to my lust, a series of images tore across my mind—blood-soaked images of Ismael standing atop a mountain of corpses.
I pulled back from the kiss.
“What’s wrong?” Roman asked.
The image faded in and out to a steady heartbeat. Ismael strode down a bloody path, mocking the dead, face contorted with wicked glee. He paused halfway down the dead mound to pick up a severed head by its hair.
Black hair streaked with fine strands of silver, glassy amber eyes wide and empty.
Roman.
A dead Roman.
“No!” I roared, tumbling off the bed.
“Xavier!”
Ismael tossed the head as if it were nothing, laughing as he flung the blood from his hands.
And then he looked directly at me, a sneer so cruel it almost turned me to stone.
“I will take everything from you,” he said.
I tried to charge at him, my heartbreak becoming hate. But I couldn’t move, my legs not here, not one drop of power within me to use against him.
“You won’t have him!”
My lungs burned, my throat closing up. Ismael mocked me, laughing, the king of violence and blood and death. The biggest threat Earth and the demon realm had ever faced. Worse than the wars, worse than The Rift.
“Talk to me, Xavier.” A hand ran up and down my spine.
Him.
It’s him.
My imagined Ismael vanished. I found myself on all fours on the dirty floor, my mouth full of ashes.
