Her Demon Prince (Forbidden Fantasy) (27 page)

A shiver of delight made her run
her hands along the ridged muscles of his back. Her excitement, mingled with
adoration, was a sensation she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

Agrat kissed her throat,
then
suddenly nipped the delicate area where the shoulder
meets the neck.

She squealed, rolled on her back
and grabbed him behind the head, pulling his face down on hers so she could
kiss him. Her tongue teased his, the tip exploring his willing mouth.

He pulled back and rubbed his
lips gently over where he had bitten her so the little tingles of pleasure
followed the pain.

“Oh,” Phoebe sighed. "I
love you, love you,
love
you." She hadn’t
expected to enjoy the dual sensation. Just the feel of his lips kissing her
throat then moving downwards to her breasts made her woozy with delight and she
gave herself up to him.

His hands were hot and he had a
way caressing her nipples that made the place between her legs throb. She was
aching for his touch. Everywhere.

He pulled back from her and took
his penis in his hand. Leaning on one elbow, he rubbed the head of his velvety
cock over her entrance and up to her clitoris.

Phoebe groaned and thrust to
meet his rhythm. “I want you. I want you so much.”

She closed her eyes, enjoying
sensation after sensation. Her clit became supersensitive as he rubbed his
slick head around it. Her hips jerked. She strained and arched her back. He
pressed harder this time moving his cock rapidly up and down.

The rush that hit her when she
came surprised her. He inserted his fingers into her, finding her tender place
and she crunched down on him as he rubbed her clitoris with his thumb. It sent
her soaring, until a groan started deep inside her, forcing its way out, the
sensation of his cock and fingers exquisite. He knew exactly how to please her
;
could tease and play her body like it was a sensitive
instrument under his fingers because he knew her so well.

She was still groaning with the
aftershock of little orgasms when Agrat covered her with his body and pressed
his cock at her entrance. She could feel herself stretching around him and was
glad of the slickness. When he went in deep, he pushed himself onto his arms so
that he reared above her and thrust home hard. When another set of orgasms
threatened to consume her, she opened her lips to cry out. He kissed her
deeply, pushed his tongue inside her mouth, stifling her cries. He was in her,
on her, suffocating her so that she could barely breathe, the intensity of him
exhilarating.

Making love to Agrat was like
being consumed. The tension rose in her body until she climaxed. He followed
her, growling in her ear, clutching her breasts and pinching her nipples hard
as he came until finally slumping over her.

Agrat moved over, but pulled her
close by holding her around her waist.

For some time she drifted in and
out of sleep.

The prince's eyes snapped open.
"We cannot tarry. I can feel Galaden's intention to have revenge upon
me." He rose and opened her bathroom door, washed himself and grabbed a
towel to dry his body.

She followed him, briefly
showering before drying herself. Running to her wardrobe, she chose tight black
jeans and a long-sleeved, simple black top, which wouldn't catch on anything.
"I don't have your wrist guard with the blade," she said as she
grabbed her bra off the floor and put it on. She ran to her dresser, grabbed a
pair of fresh underpants and stepped into them. "Galaden took it off
me."

"I forbid you to fight."
Agrat pointed his finger at his battle gear, waved his hand over his body and
he was dressed. "Do not leave this room."

"It is my
right to be by your side," she said to him.

"Women do
not fight," he said, his voice firm, final.

"I'm not
some namby-pamby princess expecting you to save me in this lifetime. I know I'm
not strong enough to defeat Galaden on my own, but we're in this together. You
found the warrior in me and I'm not staying in some back room wondering what's
happening."

"You do not
understand the danger you are in," he said. "Galaden can move faster
than you can see. He will turn to stone if he does not kill you."

"I had
Galaden's sword at my throat. He put my best friend in a coma and nearly
drained her of her life. Dammit, Agrat, I've nursed you when you've been
wounded, twice. Believe me, I get it. I know he's too powerful for me. The fact
is, I hate the asshole and if he gets the upper hand with you, I'm good with
throwing a dagger. You saw that in Salem. I could make a difference. I'm not
hiding out from him and you can't make me."

He scowled at
her, the muscles in his arms bunched and he seemed to grow bigger and menacing.
"If you are hurt or die, my punishment is forever. I will not let you risk
your life for me."

Sparks flared
off him, but she didn't back down.

"You fight,
Galaden, I'm going in there with you." Ignoring the concern in his
expression, she flung her wardrobe door open, eyed her black boots, bent and
grabbed them. They'd help deliver a strong kick if she needed to do so. Her
blood was coursing so fast through her body she was ready to let loose on Galaden.
Looking in the mirror, she saw a woman she barely recognized. Her face was
flushed, her soft blond curls wild, but it was the gleam in her eyes she barely
recognized.
A look as hard as obsidian.
The angel had
pushed her too far. She would not let the angel kill her man. The warrior
ancestor pumped in her blood, giving her skills she'd never dreamed of. She
would fight until death if it meant keeping Agrat with her.

Light flared
through the studio door and Phoebe turned to Agrat.

"Galaden is
in your studio. I order you. Stay back." Agrat dematerialized before she
could reply.

“Like hell I
will.” Swift with determination, Phoebe ran out of her bedroom, toward the door
that divided her apartment from her artist studio and slammed into an invisible
wall. She landed on her bottom, her head spinning from bashing her forehead.
Crawling onto her hands and knees she smashed her fist against the see-through
wall. The energy shimmered but the wall was hard like thickened glass. Through
it she could see and hear Galaden, the look on his face murderous as he grabbed
hold of Agrat and slammed his fist into the prince’s nose.

"Damn you,
Agrat!" Phoebe cursed under her breath, not appreciating his determination
to keep her out of the fight. Surprise shot through her when she saw the power
Galaden packed behind his punch. She hadn’t expected this from the angel who
was leaner in build than the prince. Normally he used his fireballs and sword,
but from the deadly intent on his face, this battle was deeply personal.

Blood spurted
from Agrat’s nostrils. He roared and rammed his fist into Galaden’s stomach.

The angel
grunted as his body doubled over, flew backward and hit the wall. His head made
a cracking sound. He staggered from the force of the punch, his crystal-blue
eyes wide, clearly measuring the strength of his opponent as he hunched, every
muscle coiled in his body ready to attack.

“You wish to
hand fight, Galaden?” Agrat wiped the blood from his face with the back of his
hand.

"I want to
feel your bones crunch under my fists," Galaden said.

Agrat laughed,
the sound deep and chilling. “I'll let you have a little taste of me to whet
your appetite before I kill you. Your movements are slow, younger brother. The
stone is consuming you. Soon you will be like your mother here, a statue minus
its head and I will grind you both to dust. A fitting end for a traitor brother
who took my kingdom and my woman, don't you think?"

Galaden's lips
turned to a snarl. "You dare call me a traitor? You who held a blade to my
Rachael's throat and ended her life in front of me. I will make you wish you'd
remained a statue. I’ve waited centuries for revenge. I should take Phoebe and
slice her throat in front of you so you know how it feels to be betrayed by a
brother.”

Phoebe raised
her hand to her throat in horror. She saw that Agrat was breathing heavily as
he circled Galaden, clearly waiting for an opportunity to move in fast.

"You had
Phoebe at your mercy. I've fought many battles by your side. You're a swift
killer but Daniel found Phoebe alive," Agrat said. "Do you love her
still?"

Phoebe pressed
her hands against the invisible wall. "It was never like that." She
had no idea if Agrat could hear her, but she knew Galaden's taunting would
infuriate Agrat at a time he needed to keep his head.

Galaden smiled,
though his face remained brittle and cool. "Phoebe was my sweet concubine.
I cared for her better than you." The angel moved faster than lightning
and smashed his fist into Agrat's solar plexus.

The prince
gasped. He vanished, reappeared behind the angel, locked his arm around
Galaden's throat and put his face close to Galaden's ear. "Did you rape
her?"

Phoebe saw
Agrat's eyes glow and she knew Galaden's taunts had touched on the prince's
deepest pain.

Galaden raised
his arms, took hold of Agrat's shoulders, bent forward and threw him over his
head. The angel stood over Agrat and pressed his foot on the prince's throat,
his expression ice. "Son of a demon whore! There will be no woman for me
except my Rachael. I cared for Phoebe and she raised our sons, yours and mine.
I wanted them to know love and Phoebe knew how to give it. I did not harm her.
I owe her a debt of gratitude. I fight the vow every day I stay in this
dimension."

Phoebe put her
hand to her mouth. The repetitive dream of Galaden sheltering her came to mind.
He had never raped her as Agrat thought. When the angel had forced her to
remember her past life with him, she had recalled that he had been caring and
good to her. The vow was a force that controlled him but he fought it, clearly
hating the hideous control it had over him. Yet, he had fought it. Still, she
saw murder in the angel's eyes when he looked at Agrat.
Pure,
raw hatred.

Agrat gripped
Galaden's foot, which weighed down on his trachea, trying to shift the
pressure, but the angel, despite his lithe body, had incredible strength.

"You, I
desire to kill. I will avenge Rachael," Galaden said to Agrat.

Agrat's eyes
flamed to become burning orbs. He grabbed Galaden's knee in one hand and his
heel in the other and twisted, forcing the angel to fly forward or risk his leg
snapping. Agrat leapt to his feet. "You persist in believing your
treacherous mother's lies."

"I was
there. I saw you cut Rachael's throat," Galaden accused him. "For
three thousand years I've thought of killing you, over and over again. I live
only for this moment of revenge." He pointed to his scabbard and his sword
unsheathed itself and flew into his hand.

"As I have,
you, for stealing my kingdom and my woman!" Agrat motioned with his hand
and his dagger appeared in it. The prince lunged at him. Although the angel
dodged him, Agrat’s dagger sliced across Galaden’s chest. A wheal of bright red
blood appeared. "You're slow, angel brother. Slow and soon to be
dead."

Galaden grunted
in pain and went for him.

Phoebe had to
focus to see him, Galaden moved with such velocity.

The angel kicked
the dagger out from Agrat's hand, flew behind him and caught him in a chin lock
with his free arm.

Agrat roared
with fury, his face surprised at the swiftness of Galaden’s attack. He caught
Galaden's wrist and prized the sword from Galaden's hand. It clattered onto the
floor.

Agrat tried to
flip Galaden and failed. Every muscle in the demon's body strained, until he
changed tactic by throwing himself backward onto the angel. The veins bulged on
Galaden’s neck as he twisted and fought to subdue the demon, trying to pin him
to the ground. He locked his hands around Agrat's throat, constricting his
breath, his arm muscles bulging, his legs wrapped around the demon's body.

Phoebe scrambled
to her feet, her hands pressed against the invisible energy screen. It weakened
under her pushing hands like a sheet of plastic as Agrat fought to maintain his
oxygen supply. By protecting her, the prince was dividing his energy source,
she realized, and it was weakening him.

Galaden cried
out in victory as he pinned Agrat to the ground with his death grip and wiry
body strength.

Phoebe saw the
prince struggling for breath. She rammed her body against the invisible shield
and it expanded like elastic. Pushing through it, she ran at Galaden, crossing
the distance with goddess-fast agility so that neither Agrat nor Galaden
reacted to her movement. She swept Agrat's dagger off the floor and held it at
the angel's throat. "Release him. Now!" she ordered.

To her surprise,
the angel obeyed her, rolled off Agrat and let him go.

The prince
sprang to his feet, gave her an indebted glance, before he grabbed the dagger
from Phoebe and put it to Galaden's throat.