Page 9 of Blood Bonds

Surely she could handle one night. And if she distracted him enough, he might give up the information early, thus allowing her to kill him. Her superiors would approve of his removal from this plane and would likely be thankful for her efforts.

He did something to her feminine parts that caused her stomach to tighten in the most delightful way.

What is this black magic?

Seraphim were not supposed to feel, but she certainly felt that.

During her one and only time coupling with a male, she merely lay there for the few minutes it took Adriel to finish his duty. There were no sounds or words, just an uncomfortable required mating to create a progeny. If only technology worked on Seraphim as it did on humans. Alas, fate worked her magic in mysterious ways.

“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.”