Wrath of the Fallen by Eve Archer
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ella
I stroked my hands through my hair and let the hot water cascade down my back, tipping my head back under the punishing stream. After the night before, I needed the heat to uncoil my muscles and the water to absolve me from the sinful thoughts that even now crowded my mind.
What had possessed Dominick? I swiveled in the shower so that the sharp bursts of water hit me in the face, stinging my skin. The pounding of the water was all I could hear over the thudding of my own heart, as dark and delicious memories overwhelmed me. What had possessed me?
The scent of the lemon verbena shower gel lingered on my skin as I rubbed my hands across myself, my fingers hesitating at my wrists. There were no marks—the silky fabric had assured that—but they were sore, the slightest touch reminding me that I’d been bound to the bed by my fallen angel lover—and that I’d loved every minute of it.
Heat throbbed between my legs as I thought back to the moment he’d bound me and the flicker of fear that had quickly morphed into almost uncontrollable arousal. I’d loved being dominated, the feeling of being helpless while Dominick had licked me and touched me and finally fucked me hard had driven me wild.
I let my fingers drift lower, touching gently between my legs and flinching. My wrists weren’t the only thing that was sore, although I welcomed the ache that reminded me how well Dominick’s cock had stretched me as he’d ridden me rough. Even now, my nipples tingled as I remembered his tight grip and hard thrusts and relentless pace. There had been nothing gentle or tender about what he’d done to me. It had been pure fucking, unbridled wanton desire, and I’d licked it all up.
Flipping off the water, I leaned my hands against the glass of the shower walls and let the water drip off me. I was so turned on just thinking about being tied up and fucked that I wished the showerhead was detachable and had a massaging feature. Or that Dominick would return from wherever he’d slipped off to earlier and take me again. The shower was big enough for two.
“Jeez, Ella,” I whispered, swiping the water from my eyes. “Horny much?”
Seriously, what had gotten into me?
I stepped from the shower and pulled a fluffy, gray towel off a nearby hook, wrapping it around my chest. Then I took another and wrapped it around my hair, giving myself a tall towel turban, eyeing it in the ornate, silver mirror over the sink.
Like the rest of the chateau, the bathroom attached to our room was large and opulent, with both a glassed shower that could fit a small crowd and a sunken tub encased in gray and white marble. The walls were papered in a silvery-gray toile, and a crystal chandelier hung down from the recessed ceiling. Aside from the nods to historical excess, it was outfitted with modern details, like heated towel racks and a rainforest shower, both of which I appreciated.
I padded from the bathroom, glancing at the tousled sheets on the bed, and forcing myself not to think about what had gone on there the night before. I couldn’t spend the entire day reliving it, even if I desperately wanted to. Still, I couldn’t help wondering if I’d get a repeat performance tonight. My pulse quickened at the thought, my gaze going to the black strips of silky fabric attached to the bedposts that I knew Dominick had not brought.
“Of course, the bed is outfitted with restraints.” I laughed darkly. Nothing should surprise me in a demon’s lair.
Had he known that when he’d come to bed, or had it been instinct that had made him grope for them over my head? Was being in this strange, opulent chateau making him feel as different as I did? It would explain the predatory way he’d looked at me ever since we’d stepped over the mansion’s threshold, and the way he’d fucked me like an angel possessed.
I shook my head as I walked to the tall, painted armoire. He couldn’t actually be possessed, could he? Dominick was a fallen angel, and even though that meant he was a bad boy in the celestial world, he wasn’t a demon. Besides, I was half-angel, and that hadn’t stopped me from savoring every moment of being tied up.
There was definitely something in the air here—or the water, or both—because I’d never experienced such instantaneous and powerful arousal. It was like all my senses were magnified. I was quicker to anger, and tears sprang to my eyes faster. Fear licked at my heart at the slightest sound and sharp words now resided at the tip of my tongue.
Was that why Sara had reacted the way she had at dinner? Was she also feeling the emotional turbulence of being inside a demon’s lair? That had to be it. She might have a reputation for speaking her mind and being a bit smart-mouthed, but she’d never been as emotionally volatile as she’d appeared the night before. Even when I’d talked to her and we’d straightened things out, her emotions had been raw and sharp.
After slipping on panties, I picked out a green, sleeveless sundress hanging in the armoire, dropping my towel and stepping into it. It wasn’t the sexiest thing I owned, but at the moment, I didn’t need to do anything to ramp up my libido. If I owned a nun’s habit, I would have worn that.
“Stop thinking about sex,” I said to myself.
I brushed a hand down my bare arm, the skin buzzing with unwanted pleasure. I should have taken a cold shower instead of a hot one.
What I needed to do was focus on something else—anything else. Sara, I thought. I should check on her and make sure she was okay. I also needed to ask her if she was feeling as weird as I was. She was the only full-blood human in the house—and I wouldn’t have been surprised if humans weren’t regular guests in the demon’s lair—so I was curious if the effects were as strong on her. Or maybe they were stronger. Either way, I should warn her, so she didn’t do anything crazy.
“Like count the minutes until you can be tied up again,” I muttered sternly to myself, ashamed that I couldn’t keep my mind off Dominick and everything I wanted him to do to me.
I didn’t bother putting on shoes since I was only going across the hall, and I kept my towel turban on my head. The corridor between our rooms was silent when I opened the door, and I tiptoed across the hardwood floor, rapping sharply on her door.
“Sara,” I called out. “Time to wake up.”
The sunlight filling the hallway was yet another indicator that it wasn’t early, but Sara had never been an early riser, so her lack of response didn’t surprise me. I tapped again as I opened the door and walked in, figuring that I had given her fair warning by knocking twice.
Her drapes were pulled over the glass French doors that took up most of the far wall, which made the room dark. Coming from the brightness of my room and the hallway, it took my eyes a moment to adjust.
“Rise and shine, lazy bones,” I said, walking past the lumpy bed and tugging back the curtain of one of the sets of French doors. I opened the doors onto the balcony and breathed in the fresh air, a welcome change from the faint, yet persistent aroma of something burning that permeated the chateau.
I turned, starting to get annoyed that Sara hadn’t even made a grunt of acknowledgment, when I saw that the lumps on the bed were from a twisted duvet and not from a sleeping woman. Okay, so she wasn’t in bed. I threw back more curtains, allowing light to stream into the room and illuminate the fact that she wasn’t in it at all. I dashed to the bathroom, quickly determining that that chamber was equally empty and quiet. The entire suite was deathly still, despite my frantic movements as I ran around it.
Finally, I stopped to calm myself and think.
“She got up early, that’s all. Maybe she went on a run to clear her head.” But she preferred to run in the evenings, a little voice reminded me. “Or maybe she was hungry. She barely ate any dinner last night.” But wouldn’t she have come to get me if she was going down for breakfast?
I shook aside my doubts, feeling better already that Sara was just out on a run or eating breakfast. Then I saw the note on the bedside table with my name scrawled on it, and my heart sank.
