He turned away from the cops. He kept his hold on her, and he knew just how to help Seline.
Medicine couldn’t take away a succubus’s pain, but pleasure could.
Rogziel watched as the warehouse burned. His guards had escaped, and Alex waited behind him, swearing and muttering because he had a bruise on the back of his head.
Humans could be so dramatic.
“You’re sure Seline was the one who hit you?” Rogziel asked again, because he had to be certain.
“Yes! She hit me, and she took the freaking keys. She went after that Fallen . . .” Alex stalked forward and pointed to the blazing building. “And they did that.”
Burned their way to freedom?
Maybe.
Or maybe Azrael had just burned Seline and sent her to hell.
His gaze slid over the fire. He’d expected the betrayal from Seline. He’d hoped that she’d stay true to him, but, deep inside, he’d known. It had been just a matter of time.
Blood always tells. Poor Seline had the blood of the wicked coursing through her veins. He’d tried to warn her, but there had been no changing fate. There never was.
“We’ll wait until the authorities secure the scene.” He’d learned how to keep a low profile over the centuries. So he’d let the cops do their work. Let the firefighters fight the blaze that was already cooling, and once the smoke cleared, he’d see if any bodies were recovered.
If Seline had somehow slipped away, then he’d find her. Seline was his, and he wouldn’t let her get away. He’d see her dead long before he turned her loose on the world.
Because he knew just how dangerous she truly was. The pretty face was a lie. Inside, Seline was a monster, one that he’d been fighting to control since the day he’d found her.
Tossed away in an alley.
Trash.
Evil.
And the evil ones in this world had to be punished.
Sam took Seline to one of his safe houses. Acquiring a car wasn’t hard; he just took the first one he saw and drove as fast as he could. Within minutes, he had Seline at his place, locked inside, and on his bed.
Carefully, using a gentleness he hadn’t even realized he possessed, Sam removed her charred and ash-stained clothing, and he wiped away her tears.
“You couldn’t . . .” His fingers hovered over her injured arm. The burns pissed him off and made him want to rip Az apart. “You couldn’t control the fire at all.” Odd. A demon usually had some ability to manipulate the flames.
Her lashes slowly lifted. “I’m not . . . I’m a hybrid.”
Hybrid. Half-demon. Half . . . what?
“I can make some fire like I did in the swamp, but I can’t control someone else’s. Not . . . strong enough.” The last sounded like an embarrassed confession.
He stared down at her, lost, angry. She hurt, and her pain made him furious.
“You know”—her voice was husky, and her eyes so dark—“what I need to heal.”
He knew how to heal a succubus, yes, but . . .
“Kiss me?” she whispered.
Bracing his arms on either side of her head, he brushed his lips across hers. Light. Soft.
“No.” Her growl. “I need . . . more.”
His lips pressed against hers again. Her mouth parted for him, and his tongue swept inside to meet hers. Wet. Warm. She moaned and he stilled, afraid it was a cry of pain. He began to pull back.
Then her hips lifted and pushed against his. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth and gave him a light bite.
His c**k hardened. Want her. Need . . .
“I’m not human,” she whispered, and already her voice sounded stronger. Just from a kiss? “This is what I need.” A pause. “You’re what I need.” Stark.
Sam didn’t have to be told twice. He kissed her again. Her br**sts pushed against his chest, and he could feel the tight press of her ni**les. He hadn’t removed her sexy black bra, but he wanted the lace gone. He wanted her nipple in his mouth, and he wanted to know that her moans were from pleasure.
But he put a stranglehold on his lust, and instead of stripping her, he took his time with her mouth. Sam stroked with his tongue and his lips, savoring her taste. Her hips arched more, her hands rose to clutch him, and she kissed him back with a raw hunger that had the lust blazing hotter. Her body was soft temptation beneath him, and the need within him deepened with every moment that passed.
Then her fingers pushed between them, easing along his chest. Both of her hands. But her right arm had been burned . . .
He pulled back instantly.
Her skin had taken on the faintest of glows. Her eyes were pitch-black, her lips plump and wet.
“Seline, your arm . . .” He glanced down. The blisters were already gone. The skin still appeared a dark red, but the flesh looked unblemished now.
“I’m a fast healer,” she told him quietly, “with the right power.” Her gaze met his. “And you,” she told him, licking her lips as if she were still tasting him, “you’ve got more power than any Other I’ve ever met.”
Because he was far more dangerous than any Other she’d met.
But he kept his hands light and easy on her as he stroked her body. “Do you want me to stop?” She’d be all right now. Even without more power from him, she wasn’t in danger any longer. He’d given her enough power to heal.
Sam knew his control wouldn’t last much longer, not with her body pressed so intimately to his and her taste on his tongue.
She shook her head, and the heavy mass of her hair brushed back over her shoulders. “No . . .” Her fingers seemed to burn through his shirt. “I want more.”
Those words were all he needed to hear. In an instant, his clothes were gone and her fingers were pressing against his bare skin. Lust pumped through him as he kissed her and touched her. He’d learn every inch of her body and have one f**king fine time as he did.
He tossed her bra away and glimpsed her dark pink ni**les. She’d stripped on the stage of Temptation, but she’d been so careful, hiding her body just as she revealed a sliver of flesh. He hadn’t seen her br**sts then, just the sweet curve of her stomach and the long length of her legs.
Want her. Take her.
He’d been furious that others had been around that night in Temptation. Normally, he could care less who saw the dancers, but Seline was different.
Then she’d danced again . . . He actually had knocked out two demons and a shifter that second night. They’d gotten too close to the stage—no, too close to her. And if anyone had been going to touch her . . .