Maybe not right this minute, but he was still going to call bullshit. He’d been on the receiving end of her care after Pestilence had beaten him half to death. He wondered if she was even aware that she was lying.
“I held back because I dislike being told what to do.”
Well, they had that in common. But he still didn’t buy that she’d spared him pain out of an unwillingness to follow orders. But why the hell was she yammering on like this? Although he supposed there was nothing else to do while they waited for his paralysis to wear off.
“So,” she said, as if she hadn’t just rehashed one of the weirdest and worst times of his life. That he knew of, anyway. Anything could have happened during the thousands of years that were a black hole in his memory. “What shall we do to pass the time?” She grinned, a real wicked I’m-a-naughty-girl special. “I wonder if every part of you is as hard as your limbs.” Her gaze traveled down the length of his body, and if he hadn’t been stone-cold frozen, he’d have hyperventilated.
She wouldn’t.
Would she?
“Oh, chill out, you uptight pile of feathers. I’m not going to take advantage of your… stiff… condition. We have a little pact that will address that, don’t we?”
Yes, they did, but why she’d made him agree to pleasure her was still a mystery. He’d nearly vomited at the time he’d sworn to uphold the deal, but now that he knew the truth about her… okay, he still wasn’t thrilled. But the more she stroked his skin, the more she watched him with those half-lidded eyes, the more he wanted her to keep doing it.
And when she leaned even closer, until her lips were a mere feather’s width away from his, the more he wanted. Period.
Ten
Harvester really liked having Reaver at her mercy. He’d always driven her crazy with his pompous holier-than-thou attitude, and while she would never admit this to him, he usually seemed to have the upper hand when it came to their verbal sparring. It was a rare treat to have him silent and unable to argue.
Plus, the taste of his blood had been like a one-two punch of lust and loathing, reminding her how much she both despised him and wanted him. She hated that she wanted him, so she was going to punish him for it and take full advantage of his unfortunate circumstance for as long as it lasted.
“You think I’m an evil, skanky bitch, don’t you?” she asked, relishing the fact that he couldn’t answer. Smiling, she brushed his silky hair back from his eyes—a face like his should never be obscured.
“I’ll bet you’re wondering if I’ve been corrupted by all those centuries spent in Satan’s service. Am I right?”
Even though he was paralyzed, the whip’s effect was wearing off, and his expression was enough to let her know that yes, she was spot-on.
“Let me satisfy your curiosity.” She trailed a finger over his satiny lips, remembering how they’d felt on hers when he’d kissed her to seal the deal they’d made in Sheoul-gra.
Good grief, the boy could kiss. The last time she’d been brought to her knees by a mere kiss was with Yenrieth.
Funny how she couldn’t conjure up an image of what he looked like, but she most definitely recalled how he made her feel. Most of the memories were good ones that made her smile and made heat bloom between her thighs.
The rest… she couldn’t go there. Not only was it pointless, because he was gone and wasn’t ever coming back, but her time with him had been so long ago. She needed to concentrate on the future, uncertain as that may be.
“But I’m not sure corrupt is the word we should focus on,” she said. “I prefer… grow. I had to grow up fast down here.”
Reaver’s blond eyebrows climbed.
“Yes, I was an adult when I fell. But I was so naive. I wasn’t a battle angel like you, so I didn’t have the kind of contact you have with demons. I mostly dealt with humans. Stupid, evil humans I was charged with delivering justice upon, but humans nonetheless.” She trailed her finger from his mouth to his ear and spent a moment stroking the soft skin of his lobe. He was so… warm. “As you can imagine, I was in for a bit of a shock when I entered Sheoul. Looking back, I can see that I should have thought the whole thing through a little more. I definitely should have prepared better.”
Her cover story explaining her expulsion from Heaven, that she’d killed humans for fun, had been a good one, and the fact that Satan was her father only made it more believable. Bad genes and all that. But the reality of life in Sheoul had been more of a shock than she’d expected. The realization that her father truly was the epitome of evil had been devastating. For the first few decades as a fallen angel, on some lofty level she’d actually believed there was a kernel of good in him, a remnant of who he’d been as a Heavenly angel.