Page 21 of Unmasking the Fallen Angel

She flexed her wrists once, testing, and gave me a look of such unrepentant glee that every muscle in my body went taut.

"For now," she said.

I kissed her mouth, then her throat, then the swell of her breast, and when I closed my lips around her nipple she arched off the coverlet with a cry exactly as loud as she'd promised. Everly had never said anything to me that she didn't mean, and I was beginning to appreciate how thoroughly that applied in bed.

I worked my way down her body without hurrying, tracing the lace at her hip with my tongue before I hooked my fingers into it and drew it down her legs, over the gold heels, and away. She lifted her hips to help, entirely without shame, and I found that more devastating than anything she'd said.

I settled between her thighs and pressed them wider with my shoulders. She was glistening and swollen, so wet I could smell her, and my cock strained against my trousers at the sight. My hand spanned the curve of her waist with room to spare, and she looked impossibly small beneath the canopy of my wings, open and unguarded and not one bit afraid.

"Look at that," I said, my mouth against the inside of her thigh. "This gorgeous pussy is already soaked, and I haven't touched it."

"You've been touching me for an hour." Her voice shook. "It's called dancing."

I laughed, and she gasped as my breath moved over her skin.

Then I put my mouth on her.

I began with one long, slow lick from her entrance to her clit that wrung a moan from her throat, and after that I took my time learning her: the circles she liked, the pressure that made her thighs tremble, the flick of my tongue that sent her hips jerking against my arm. She tasted of heat and salt and something I'd have gone hungry for. When I slid two fingers inside her and curled them, the sound she made rang off the high coffered ceiling.

"Please," she gasped. "Right there. Don't stop."

"I'm not going anywhere, angel." I ran my tongue over her clit again. "Tonight this is mine, and I intend to enjoy every minute of it."

She'd been tugging at the weight across her wrists, and now, quite deliberately, she twisted free. I lifted the wing the instant she moved, since I'd never meant to hold her, and her hands plunged into my hair and hauled my mouth tighter against her.

"Like that," she said, panting. "Exactly like that."

I'd never enjoyed being disobeyed more.

I pinned her hips with my forearm and stayed with her, relentless, my fingers working in time with my tongue, until her thighs clamped around my head and her whole body went rigid. She came with a broken cry that dissolved into a stream of profanity I suspected she'd never once used in an office, her pussy clenching around my fingers in hard, rhythmic pulses. I worked her through every one, gentling my mouth only when she began to shake.

"Good heavens," she managed, once she could.

"That's twice tonight you've said that." I kissed the inside of her knee. "Both times, I was responsible."

Her laugh was weak and breathless. "Give me a moment to recover my vocabulary."

I moved up her body and braced myself above her, my right hand framing her face. She turned her cheek into my palm and kissed it, then found the thin pale crescent at the base of my thumb with her lips and traced it with the tip of her tongue.

"Does this hurt?"

"Not anymore."

She hummed, drew my thumb into her mouth, and sucked, holding my gaze through the eyeholes of my mask until every other thought left me.

I'd wanted this woman for a very long time, and nothing I'd done in all that time had ever made her say yes. She was saying it now, freely and with her whole body, to a man she believed she would never see again. That last part was mine to answer for. I meant to, later.

She let my thumb slip free and plucked at my waistband with her other hand. "You're still wearing trousers."

She sat up, pushed me back onto my heels, and went for the button with the same efficiency I'd watched her bring to conference schedules. I shoved the trousers down and kicked them away, and her fingers closed around my cock, warm and sure. The first slow stroke from base to tip flared my wings wide, and the edge of one primary ticked against the lampshade. Everly glanced up at the sound, then back down at what she was doing, with a smile I felt in my teeth.

"I need you inside me," she said. "Tell me you have a condom, or tell me where the Grand hides them."

"I have no idea what the Grand keeps in its nightstands."

She leaned across the mattress, opened the drawer, and came up with a small black box. "The Grand thinks of everything. Remind me to compliment the concierge."

"I'll leave an extremely generous tip."