“We cannot breed,” she managed as he applied more pressure. It almost hurt but didn’t. Her body shook from the foreign gratification.

“Not an issue, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice husky and low. “I’m sterile.”

She nodded, understanding. “Fate would never allow your seed to prosper. It’s an abomination.”

He chuckled. “Careful, angel. You’re making me want to teach that delinquent mouth of yours a lesson.”

“Of what kind?” She already spoke several languages, including many of the ancient ones. What more could he possibly teach her? His age had nothing on her birthright. She prospered amongst the clouds, while he wandered on Earth.

He traced her lips with his tongue, shocking her into silence.

That… is rather pleasant.

It tingled.

Far better than a fist to the face, to be certain, but also wet.

He tastes like wine.

“Do we have a deal?” he asked against her mouth. “Or do you need more reasons?”

She swallowed. “How many minutes do you require?” He’d said one night originally, but she wanted a definitive timeline.

“Minutes?” he repeated, his amusement evident. “If I’m to give you what you need, then I require hours, love.”

She blinked, startled. “Hours? Surely not.”

“Agree and I’ll show you why.” He removed his hand from her jeans just as she was on the brink of something delightful. “I want your agreement, angel.” He replaced the pressure between her legs with his thigh, and a warmth unlike anything she’d ever experienced shot through her bloodstream.

Unworldly.

That was the only word she had for it.

This plane is messing with my senses.

Still, a few hours of this bizarre experience in exchange for the information she needed and the potential opportunity to kill him did qualify as a practical use of time.

But she needed her weapons.

“Return my knives,” she demanded as he explored the expanse of skin beneath her blouse again. He seemed to have an odd fixation with her breasts.

“Afterward,” he said.

“Now,” she countered.

His green eyes glowed with challenge. “And here I thought you weren’t the kinky sort.”

She frowned. “I do not follow your logic.”

“You will,” he replied. “But I want your consent.”

“And I want my blades.”

“You’ll have them.” He removed his touch from her abdomen and wrapped his hand around her neck. “But try to cut me and you’ll regret it.”

The threat underlining his words and position didn’t faze her. She planned to stab him, not slice him.

“Fine.”

He grinned as if seeing through her acquiescence. “So we have a deal, angel?”

“How many minutes, or rather, hours, do you require?”

“Seven ought to do.”

Her eyebrows inched up. “Seven hours?”

“Yes. That equates to one evening.”

Perhaps he intended to sleep as well? That would work well with her plans. She could learn a bit from his body, gather her intelligence, and then exterminate him while he rested. All practical reasons to agree.

Except… “What do you gain from this?”

“Satisfaction,” he replied as he slid his hand to the nape of her neck. His fingers found a pressure point that resulted in a release of tension she hadn’t realized was there.