Soul Resurrected (Sons of Wrath, #2) (29 page)

He reached behind and led her down the darkened hallway, past the other offices to his. Once inside, he flipped on the single dim light and closed the door, locking it behind them.

She followed behind him to the other side of his desk.

“Take the dress off. Slowly. I want you in nothing but panties and heels.” He backed himself up to the window and crossed his arms.

She pursed her lip as if holding back a smile and unzipped the side of the dress, catching it before it fell to the floor. Pert breasts with pink nipples and the soft curves of her body had Gavin’s fingers twitching.

“Turn around. Bend over and grip the arms of the chair.”

“Yes, sir.” The deviance in her smile told him she liked a game of dominance.

As commanded, she faced the chair and bent forward, the tiny red fabric of her panties barely covering the fleshy folds of her sex.

“Close your eyes. Imagine your wrists tied to the chair and me fucking you.”

“Mmmm. I like that visual.” Her hips circled in front of him and her soft moans had him reaching out to the glistening skin that beckoned his touch.

Beneath the fabric, he feathered her sensitive flesh. “I’ll bet you’re nice and tight, aren’t you?” Smooth satin walls slid against his fingertips as he sunk his middle and ring fingers inside of her.

A buck against his thighs and she lay her head against the backrest of the chair, arching her ass like a stretching cat. “Yes,” she breathed. “So tight.”

“Let’s find out.”

Twirling her around to face him, he lifted her onto his desk, her thighs straddling him.

She unfastened his belt and pushed his pants to the floor. A gasp escaped her as his erection sprang from the briefs he wore. “Sweet Jesus,” she whispered.

He reached into the top drawer of his desk then tore the condom pack between his teeth and rolled the latex down his shaft.

“Safe sex, no less.” She smiled.

“I’m genetically incapable of contracting or transmitting diseases. It’s more to put your mind at ease.”

“You … can’t contract diseases? What do you have super-immunity, or something?”

“Something like that.”

“Must be nice.” She tipped her head, eyeing his cock. “I’m surprised you find them big enough.”

He lifted her chin and gave an earnest stare. “Forgive me for what I’m about to do. I’m afraid I’m not much of a gentleman when it comes to fucking a beautiful woman.”

She bit her lip and eased back onto her elbows.

Pinning her panties aside, he buried his tip inside.

She tilted her head back and let out a needy moan.

A slow and steady pace, keeping himself half out of her, made for a wet slide.

Gavin pushed all the way to the hilt and fisted her hair with one hand, holding the small of her back with the other. Slow and steady, he plunged in and out of her with ease.

“So good.” She sighed. “Fuck me.”

His body railed into her, pumping, pumping, his hips undulating against her.

“Yes, that’s it.” She pushed her hips upward to meet his thrusts.

Gavin kept on, sliding in and out of her, the wetness dripping down his thighs, not even close to breaking a sweat.

Her body tensed, muscles tightened.

Not yet
.

Pulling out quickly he dragged her body off the desk, turned her around and nudged her legs apart with his knee. He yanked down the panties. His fingertips spread the wetness all over her bare skin and she circled her ass against him.

“Oh, God. I’m so close,” she murmured.

“I know.” He covered her sex with his hand. “Patience, beautiful.”

As he slid back inside she jerked forward and cried out, her ass angled high, back curved.

Gavin placed his palms on either side of her and hammered from behind. Good thing no one was around because, damn, she was loud.

Each pump of his hips brought him closer to the edge. He grabbed hold of her hair and tugged her head back, leaned in at her ear and whispered, “The next time you’re fucking him, I want you to think of this.”

That apparently sent her flying right over the edge.

She cried out and Gavin followed.

His movements slowed. He leaned over her, catching his breath, still inside of her.

Fast and furious sex—sometimes the only way to ease the tension.

The buildup to what would one day be an explosion inside of his mate. For the time being, it meant a high and a low.

With her head against the desk, she turned to the side, watching him slip the condom off.

“I thought … you sounded like you. Did you … come?”

“I don’t. Not the way most do.” Unmated demons couldn’t ejaculate with just any woman. Once demons reached adolescence and formed their szexus organs, their ability to produce sperm and ejaculate diminished until bonding—another evolutionary bitch slap for ensuring the continuation of the species.

Whoever designed Wrath demons had a hard-on for making them commit.

Their sex organs went through the same process, as if they’d come normally, the contracting and squeezing and the no going back sensation, but the szexus prevented any fluids from ejaculating. The sated and relaxed feeling still followed, easily stimulated again into another raging erection.

Most Wrath demons could go all night because of the ease of getting hard again and again.

In some cases, the body might mistake a female for a mate and allow the demon to ejaculate.

With his Savidon nearing, it was another reason Gavin opted for condoms. Much as he hated the bastards, the last thing he wanted to do was accidentally knock up a married woman.

“Don’t? Like never?” She cleared her throat. “Was it me? Did I …?”

“You did nothing wrong. I’m simply incapable. But that doesn’t mean I enjoyed myself any less.”

In truth though, there had always been something psychological about coming with a woman. Though most demons could get beyond it and enjoy sex without it, for Gavin, he’d missed the days pre-szexus when he could still feel his pulsing seed spilling over.

“Why?”

He grinned. “We’ve not even exchanged names and you’re asking why I don’t come?”

She let out a laugh as she bent forward, picking her dress up off the floor. “What’s your name?”

“Gavin.”

“Gavin,” she echoed. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Jessica. Not that it matters after tonight.” She shimmied into the clingy gown. “Thank you for this.”

“My pleasure.” He zipped up her dress then kissed the top of her hand. “Do me a favor, Jessica. Don’t ever let a man tell you that you’re anything less than stunning.”

“Handsome and utterly charming.” She shook her head and sighed. “The woman who manages to snag your heart is going to be one lucky bitch.”

He smiled at that. “I suppose that remains to be seen.”

For some reason, he felt compelled to say something about what they’d just done. Sure, Gavin had messed around with married women, mostly like her, who’d been cast aside by their husbands as if they were nothing. But something didn’t sit right with him.

Perhaps it was the fact that he hadn’t actually
seen
her husband treat her poorly, as was the case with the others he’d been with. He’d simply taken her word for it. “Listen, Jessica. I don’t do this often. With married women.”

She tipped her head and cocked a brow. “I’m honored to be one of the few.” With a push off the desk, she smoothed out her dress. “Don’t worry. I won’t kiss and tell.” Her hand slipped inside his shirt. “Unless you want the kiss.” Lips pressed to his before he could answer. “I want to remember your taste on my tongue.” The breath of her muffled words tickled his mouth just before her tongue brushed against his. She pulled her head back and licked her lips. “A secret I’ll savor when I’m alone.”

Again, Gavin couldn’t place what troubled him.

Had he not been shitfaced on Absinthe and fucked in the head about Zeke, perhaps he’d have better pinpointed his source of trepidation. Instead, he did his best to tuck that worry aside. The matter of Zeke still loomed, and as the oldest Wrath, it fell on him to come up with a plan.

He took her hand and watched as her eyes turned drunken, heavy. As much as he hated having to use the Bullshit Buzz, it put his addled brain at ease to know she’d probably be too confused to recall any more than a few flashbacks. Not like Calix’s power to fully erase what’d happened.

Most likely, she’d probably just feel like she had too much to drink and, with some luck, forget most of what they’d done.

CHAPTER 24

How Logan managed to get home intact would forever remain mystery to him. He stood on the sidewalk, admiring the precision of his park job of the McLaren, and stumbled back a step, placing the heel of his palm to his temple.

Holy shit.

The Elysia’d hit hard on the ride home.

He spun around and headed up the cement stairs toward the door. His head swirled, high on the visuals of Calla’s hands gliding up his body, his dick about ready to pop through his jeans at the thought of those toned thighs wrapped around his waist.

“Stilettos,” he mumbled. “Have to buy her stilettos.”

Spikes digging into his back.
Hell, yes
. With his body so numb to pleasures, he’d learned to be turned on by pain.

No doubt, an innocent little thing like Calla would know nothing of those dark and twisted desires.

He staggered up the staircase, tripping once, until he finally reached the door. Ben stood in the doorway, his serious expression just barely registering in Logan’s mind. Logan patted him on the chest as he passed. “Evenin’, Ben.”

His skin prickled as he zigzagged down the hall toward Calla’s room—already imagining his mouth on her skin.

Her taste and smell all over him.

He’d take her back to his room and keep her there. No way he was going to let a woman who set him alive that way just waltz out the door. Fuck that. She
belonged
to him now.

Gavin could fight him on that all he wanted.

Mine.

Unbuttoning his shirt, Logan burst into Calla’s bedroom.

A curtain of citrus hit his face. He sucked in the smell and lurched toward her bed.

Empty.

Logan threw his shirt onto the floor and stumbled toward the closed bathroom door. Perhaps he’d find her there. The possibility of seeing her naked curves, the silhouette behind the frosted glass of the shower, was enough to break him.

His tongue twitched at the thought of licking water from her skin.

He shoved the door open.

Nothing.

“Calla?” The gruff sound of her name reverberated through his skull.

Where is she?

His heart thrummed in his chest. A rush of adrenaline spread like fire in his blood. He needed her. Just one taste. That’s all. Christ, he was losing his mind over the fantasies dancing in his head like devils.

The dark room spun, the sculpture of Diana passing him over and over again.

His body finally giving out, Logan fell backward and rolled over onto his stomach, his face smashed into the pillow.

Calla’s scent calmed him, flooded his mind with that warmth and sun.

A quiet growl rumbled in his throat as everything drifted away.

* * *

Cold concrete pressed into Draven’s back. The dark room, like a dungeon, fell in and out of focus, as one paleskin tugged at the vein in his neck while the other tugged at his dick.

Thank gods for the dullness that’d finally settled over him.

His body, too weak to respond, remained flaccid, in spite of the tension screaming inside his muscles to fight them off.

Drifting, drifting.

Surely he’d be dead by the end of their assaults.

“Change him.” Ryke’s distant voice danced through his head.

* * *

“Calla!” Logan bolted up in bed.

Calla?

Did he mean to call out her name?

He dragged his hand across his sweat-laden forehead and glanced around the room.

Where the fuck am I?

Nausea gurgled in his stomach. He shot out of bed and into the adjacent bathroom, just making it in time to throw up the acids.

Goddamn.

His dream had shaken him.

Calla. Why Calla?

Had he gotten so wasted he’d forgotten his distaste for the woman? Pain from below prompted a downward glance. Yeah, judging from the size and stiffness of his cock, he’d forgotten everything.

Where had she gone?

He rinsed his mouth in the sink and glanced over at the shower. Inside the stall, in a neat row, sat her shampoo, conditioner and body wash. He picked up the bottle and inhaled the scent—the source of her smell confirmed.