Starved For Love by Annie Nicholas Read Free Book Online Page B

It roared for completion. I entwined my fingers in his hair and rested my feet on his broad shoulders.
    Ignoring me, he continued to lap and kiss as if we had all night.
    “Please.” I writhed in his hands and lifted the hem of my dress to watch him devote his attention to my pleasure.
    A deep chuckle came from his throat, purely male and self-satisfied. He found my clitoris and began to suck.
    My vision narrowed as the sensation assaulted my overeager libido. “Yes. That’s it.”
    Softly at first, he played with my bud, but soon he sucked harder until I could only pant and hang on the armrests for dear life. He brought me into a state of sheer ecstasy where I couldn’t even remember my own name. Each exhale came out a moan until the pleasure grew too much as it crashed over me.
    Rocking my hips in his strong hold, I cried out. What? I’d never remember. I only knew his mouth upon me as he sucked me to completion. My need exploded, combined with my orgasm, and created the energy my body consumed to survive. Hoel’s flavor imbued it. Airy and thin, it slid into the place where I stored what we’d created, tasting like smoothest of whipped creams. The power throbbed though me, a mixture of me and my lover.
    With a shuddering cry, I collapsed. Limp and lifeless, my body molded to the form of the chair. If not for Hoel’s hands and the armrests, I might have pooled onto the carpeted floor.
    He passed a few more licks as if savoring my flavor, then placed a gentle kiss to my inner thigh. “Good?”
    “Very.”
    He climbed to his feet. “We should keep this between us for now.” His lips were glossy with my juices.
    A dark foreboding sank into my bones at his suggestion. “For now. Secrets have a tendency to burn me.” And they did. Pierre had been my dirty secret. I didn’t want to be Hoel’s. The thought made me sick. However, I reached for his pants and undid the button.
    He removed my hands and kissed each palm.
    “I give when I receive, Hoel. It’s only polite.”
    He laughed. “Maybe another day.” Turning, he retrieved his shirt from the couch.
    I leaned forward in my chair and examined his back. Each shoulder blade bore deep scars. Rising to my feet, I approached him and ran a finger lightly over the rough tissue.
    With a hiss, he flinched. “Don’t. They’re painful.”
    “Sorry, I didn’t mean—it’s just—you’re not a nephilim are you?”
    “Why would you think that?” He swung his shirt over his shoulders and dressed.
    “Rumors.” Not a nephilim then. The scars on his shoulder blades, the ones I’d touched and made him flinch—I cringed—had there been wings? Oh my flipping God. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
    “What?” He glanced up from dressing.
    Two plus two always equaled four. If I added Hoel’s scars, rumors and the power surrounding him together, they equaled only one thing. “You’re a fallen angel, aren’t you?”
    “Pia—”
    “I’m so sorry.” I covered my mouth with my hand. Pacing the room, I tried not to panic. I’d fed from him. He’d gone down on me.
    “Easy.” Hoel caught me by the shoulders. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop.”
    “I’m going to hell when I die because of this.” I gestured between us.
    He chuckled. “Angels haven’t any more connection to heaven than demons have to hell. We’re just rare magical beings and I’d like to keep my existence quiet. Do you understand?”
    I nodded. “If you’re not from heaven then how come you lost your wings?”
    “I didn’t say there weren’t laws to be broken. It’s my punishment.” He set the tie around his neck and straightened it. “You might wish to shower and change. Valerio wants me to bring you home for dinner.”
    I took a shaky breath. “I’ve already fed him once today. He has five wives. Let them take care of him.” I smoothed my dress back over my hips. The nerve of the incubus to order me around, after we’d only met this afternoon.
    “As a guest, not a