Her slick heat grasped him tightly, milking his seed as she shattered around him on a scream that sounded very much like his name. He grinned against her neck, loving every quiver and quake.

All night, he promised himself.

He would take her over and over and over again, until she couldn’t walk.

And then he’d take her again.

Starting with the bed.

He didn’t give her a moment to acclimate but pulled her away from the glass and tossed her onto the mattress. Her wings disappeared while her legs spread in undeniable invitation.

He would definitely bite her this time.

In several places.

“Again,” he murmured as he crawled over her.

She blinked those gorgeous blue eyes up at him and nodded. “Yes.”

5

Game of Persuasion

Caro awoke in a daze, her head floating somewhere in the clouds. Her knives were long gone, as was her sense of reason.

Seraphim do not require pleasure.

Not true.

Not true at all.

Why did the council hide the truth? For male Seraphim to procreate, they had to ejaculate. Which meant they clearly had to feel something for an orgasm to occur. Yet, all this time, she had thought it was a physical reaction due to necessity.

Caro had never considered trying to excite herself because her superiors told her there was no point. The only Seraphim who embraced sensation and emotion were those who required it for their gifts to work, and Caro possessed no such need. Hence, she had never tried. And oh, how wrong she had been to deny herself this.

Sethios made me scream for him.

And I enjoyed it.

She quivered as the sensual memory of Sethios’s body joining hers rolled through her thoughts. Her thighs clenched as a dark craving heated her blood. The muscular arm wrapped around her bare waist didn’t help. If she rotated her hips, she’d hit his groin.

Would he understand the invitation? Would he accept?

Caro bit her lip to keep from groaning, both from need and frustration. This was the point where she should try to torture him for information and then kill him, not try to fornicate again.

Fuck, her mind corrected. That’s what Sethios had called it. Fucking.

Seductive images assaulted her senses, causing her to squirm. She wanted more of those delicious feelings, the ones that left her limbs shaking and created stars behind her eyes.

It was so wrong but felt so right.

How many decades of her life had she spent in a cocoon of logic, refusing to experience emotion? Sethios had shattered her placative bubble and introduced her to a hidden part of herself. Would she ever be able to forget? To return to her previous self?

I’ve lost my mind, she realized.

It’s this plane. It’s messing with my sense of perception.

Or it’s Sethios.

No.

Why would he alter her in this manner?

Perhaps to keep her from delivering her message to Osiris. Or as a way to protect himself from the inevitable. For Sethios needed to die. He was an abomination to Seraphim kind. Even if he did inspire explosions that sent her soul to a plane of nonexistence.