Page 14 of Autumn Ritual

A missile whistled through the air.

Blind from the screen light, I didn’t see it coming. A slipper smacked the side of my face.

I closed the laptop lid, tucked it in the computer bag, and rose. The angel was awake and fury sizzled from her body.

That vicious sound twisted something inside me.

My dick sprang to life at the tone of her voice.

Sara shook, standing under the roughhewn arch of the living room. “You have no right to be touching that!”

The protective note in her voice made me smile. She was every bit as fierce as her heroine.

I prowled forward.

It took a couple of heartbeats before Sara realized what was happening. She took a shaky step back. I continued to advance.

“What…what are you doing?” she stammered.

I grinned, enjoying the note of fear in her voice. Blood rushed south, and my balls tightened with need.

“I’ll hurt you!” she gasped.

The threat made my heart swell with pride. I wanted her bite. I ached for her to claw my skin raw. The idea sent a throb shooting down the length of my shaft.

Trapping her against the half wall in the front hall that formed the stairs, I gripped the spindled rails above her head.

Sara inhaled sharply.

“Well, hello again,” I rasped, forcing my voice to turn into the gravelly tone I’d been practicing so as not to rely on the voice changer. “There’s nowhere to run tonight.”

“You!” Sara breathed. “Where’s your devil mask?”

A rough laugh choked from my throat. “Don’t need it.”

Recognizing me as her date from the masquerade calmed her down. The fear left her body—but not the rage.

“You followed me out here? That’s creepy!”

I ran my hands down her arms, shifting to touch her waist. “Tell me to go.”

I would.

But I wouldn’t go far.

And if she was smart, which she was, she would know I’d be back.

Pushing up the camisole, I hooked my fingers on the elastic of her cotton shorts. My touch skimmed across the low expanse of her belly.

Her soft gasp was caught between our bodies. But Sara didn’t push me away.

Maybe it was unconsciously, but she widened her stance. It was only a fraction, but it was enough. It was all the permission I needed.

Her long, dark hair fell forward, hiding her face even if there had been light to see it by. I could make out the curve of her chest through the thin cotton of her camisole. Her nipples peaked and strained against the material.

A hunger unlike any I’d ever felt surged in my veins.

She didn’t move.