Curse of the Fallen by Eve Archer

Chapter Six

Ella

The sheets were cool against my bare legs, but the breeze was warm as it fluttered in from the windows. Rolling over, I let the silky gown slip up my thighs as I bent one leg and hooked my foot outside the sheet.

The body next to mine was warm and familiar, the hand skimming my back sending desire across my skin. I twisted toward him, wanting more of his gentle touch and wanting him to be anything but gentle. The dark kept him in shadows, but his profile was unmistakable, as was Dominick’s scent—warm and spicy without the need for any cologne—and I breathed him in greedily as he shifted his large body on top of mine. Before I could wonder how he was with me, his lips crashed onto mine, pulling me into a deep kiss that knocked all rational thought from my brain.

I didn’t care how he was here. All I knew was that Dominick had come for me, and nothing felt as right as him being on top of me, his mouth claiming me and his body moving urgently against mine. When he tore his lips from mine, his breath was hot as he bent to nip my neck, and I arched into him, whispering his name. My heart raced, the anticipation of having him inside me making my breath ragged and my hips twitch with longing.

“Dominick.” I ran my hands up his bare back, my fingers caressing the bunched muscles tight with restraint. Then I tangled my fingers in his hair, holding him to me as his mouth moved fervently down my throat to my breasts. He didn’t bother moving aside the satiny gown, instead sucking my nipples through the fabric. The friction of his hot tongue and the wet silk dragged a moan from my lips, and I dug my nails into his hair.

When he shifted even farther down my body, parting my legs and settling himself between them, he groaned. “You’re soaked for me.”

Before I could respond, he’d dragged his tongue through my folds, and I could do nothing but gasp. Maybe it was because he was celestial, or maybe it was because he’d been around for thousands of years, but Dominick Vicario could do things with his tongue I’d never imagined. I bowed my back, letting my legs fall open even wider and surrendering completely to him. Whatever Dominick wanted to do to me, I would eagerly let him.

As he alternated sucking and flicking my clit, he slid one thick finger inside me. I drew in a breath, as even his finger felt tight inside me. I had little time to adjust as soon there were two fingers, and he was dragging them in and out as he sucked me. I rocked my hips back and forth to meet his strokes, the feel of his fingers exquisite as they swiveled and pumped. It was no surprise that he knew exactly where my G spot was and just how to touch it to make my body go wild.

My eyelids fluttered as I fisted the loose sheet in my hands, heat coiling in my belly and sending tremors through me. When Dominick hummed—the vibrations buzzing between my legs—my body shattered. I clenched around his fingers as I bucked wildly, my legs wrapping around his back and my fingers clenching his head and holding him between my legs. After what seemed like a glorious eternity, I sagged back on the bed and released my grip on him.

Without a word, he moved up my body, bracing himself on top of me. Staring up at the dark silhouette of his body, I took his face in my hands, my nails rasping the scruff shadowing his cheeks. I might not have known him long, but my fingers traced his features, the angles and curves of his handsome face as familiar to me as my own.

“I want you inside me,” I begged, curling my legs around his waist.

“Do you?” His voice was a seductive tease as he notched his cock at my opening.

I nodded desperately, already aching for him to fill me. “I need you inside me.”

“Aren’t you afraid of me?” He husked, leaning down and nuzzling my neck.

“Why would I be afraid of you?”

“Not every woman can handle being possessed by me.”

There was nothing I wanted more than to be possessed by him. “I can handle anything you can give me,” I said in a fervent whisper.

He arched up and plunged his cock into me, the sudden thrust making me gasp for breath. I should be used to his size, but the stretch made me cry out and clutch at his back.

“Is this what you want?” he asked as he held himself deep inside me.

I nodded, too breathless to speak.

“More?” He pulled back and stroked in again, and my eyes rolled back in my head.

“More,” I gasped.

Dominick drove into me, his pace relentless. The sounds of our moans mingled with the slap of skin on skin. I barely had time to catch my breath before I was clawing at his shoulders as my body clenched around his cock, squeezing him with my tight pulses. Closing my eyes, I let my release tear through me with a final scream.

He didn’t slow his pace, hammering into me and finally knifing up and letting out a roar as he exploded inside me. My hands slipped from his back and I let my eyes flutter open. Then my heart stopped.

Dark wings were unfurled behind Dominick. But not the ebony-feathered wings I’d seen when he’d unleashed them inside the church. No, these wings were black and as smooth as stretched skin with sharp points at the tops. My breath caught in my throat. They were devil wings.

I opened my mouth to scream, but I couldn’t. This wasn’t right. Dominick didn’t have devil wings. He had beautiful angel wings. They were black, but they were thickly feathered and magnificent. Not ugly pointy things that looked like they’d been forged in hell.

My gaze slid to Dominick’s face, but it wasn’t the face I knew. It was as black as his wings with eyes that glowed red. A devil face to match the devil wings.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Dominick wasn’t a devil.

When I jerked awake, I was panting, and the sheets were tangled around my ankles. I bolted upright, jerking my head from side to side. I was in the bedroom in the villa in Marrakesh, the minaret-shaped windows sending moonlight spilling across the tile floor.

There was no sign of Dominick, aside from my mussed sheets and the nightgown that had ridden up around my hips. My heart thudded in my chest, partly from the memory of my sex dream, and partly from the terror of seeing Dominick as a hideous devil.

I flopped back on the bed, swiping a hand across my sweaty brow. “What was that?”

I knew Dominick was a fallen angel, and I’d accepted it. So why was I having weird dreams about him being a devil? I shook my head, trying to also rid myself of the feeling of dread that had pooled in my stomach. I didn’t know that much about demons and fallen angels and whoever ruled hell. What if Dominick’s true self looked like what I’d dreamed? Were fallen angels as cursed as the demons they battled?

I pressed my fingers to my lips. Had I fallen in love with a devil?