Demon's Angel: (Immortal Sentinels book 3) by Sasha Corvyn

Author:Sasha Corvyn [Corvyn, Sasha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-06-29T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Delilah was finding it harder and harder to remember why she was trying to escape him. His green eyes were filled with so much desire, she was almost seared to the bone from the heat of his gaze. Even now, she could feel herself strengthening, the pain receding under his touch. It made her want more. Crave more.

Ambrosius urged her to take a few steps backwards, her back pressing to the thick post at the end of his massive bed, moulding to the curves in the wood. His eyes were trained on her mouth, and his lips parted with his obvious desire to kiss her senseless. A whimper of answering need rose in her throat and she moaned as he pressed his body into hers.

The ridge of his erection pushed insistent against her stomach, a delicious ache starting in her body as she shivered from the contact. She had never desired another the way she desired him. His domination as he cuffed her wrists with his fingers and lifted her arms above her head against the wood sent a tremor of pleasure racing through her body.

“Ambrosius . . .” His name escaped her lips, breathy, her voice trembling over the syllables. He didn’t respond, just leashed her wrists in one palm, his other hand slipping lower to curve at the swell of her hip, his fingers edging upwards under the long-sleeved shirt he’d dressed her in. She’d never felt more exposed in her life.

Skin on skin, his heat sent a shiver of need through her. Their lips almost touched as she pressed up into him, close enough to feel his halted breath against the flesh of her bottom lip.

“No kissing,” he grated out, sounding pained at the prospect of not closing the distance between their mouths. She did whimper then . . . with frustration.

“You want it as much as I do.” Delilah trembled as his possessive touch stroked upwards, his hot palm cupping one swollen, heavy breast, sending her thoughts scattering. She arched under his touch, pressing her breast into his hand, lifting off the post where he held her hands fastened above her head.

“You would ensnare me,” he gritted out, dragging his hand back downwards, releasing her hands only so he could unbutton her shirt. He parted the material to reveal her breasts, the mounds heavy under his ravenous stare. The material felt abrasive against her tightened nipples as he dragged the shirt away.

Ambrosius looked like a man possessed, his expression wrought with desire, a desire that she mirrored. She ached to have his hands on her. Craved his touch. Gods, the angel was turning her mind inside out. Wasn’t that supposed to be her power?

He reached up, his fingers sliding across her throat and then downwards, his fingertips the softest caress across her skin, but she wanted more. Harder. She hated that she couldn’t feel the intensity of his need. Somehow, she knew she would strengthen faster if he was to let loose, to touch her like she knew he wanted to.

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